I am trying to write the true account of a story from my life—one of the very few tragic incidents that still leaves me in desperation, even after eight years have passed. Although the names have been changed to protect those involved, the emotions remain real and raw.
The date was 2061-01-08 (April 20, 2004).
The telephone rang unusually early—around 5:00 AM, I believe. As I picked up the receiver, I had no idea that the call would shatter my world. It was Dhiraj, and the news he broke left me speechless. I was frozen with disbelief. Just the day before, we had been with our friend—laughing, joking, full of life. How could he suddenly be gone?
We rushed to his house. The atmosphere was heavy, tense. Grief hung in the air. His mother, father, brother—all were weeping. But the most devastated of all was Smritika. She looked as though her very soul had been ripped apart by the loss.
From her face, I could see that she had started to question everything—even God.
If there really is a God, how could He allow this?
Why would He take someone so innocent? So full of life?
Despite the pain, we entered his room to see him one last time. Susan lay still on his bed. His body lifeless, yet strangely at peace. His face—so young, so familiar—looked like it held distant dreams. The same face that had once burst with jokes, energy, and joy now lay silent, motionless.
For a fleeting moment, it felt like he might wake up and be surprised to see us all there. But no—Susan was cold now. He would never speak again. His eyes, once bright with dreams, would never open. The jokes, the laughter, the moments—we would never have them again.
I couldn’t breathe. I stumbled out of the room, my chest heavy. Outside, more mourners had gathered. Among them, a man—perhaps his uncle—was speaking softly, quoting from the Bhagavad Gita, trying to soothe shattered hearts with sacred words.
Eventually, Smritika’s sobs grew quiet. Her body was still, but her eyes burned with a quiet rage. And I felt it too. Why him?
At times, I tried to convince myself that it wasn’t really him on that bed. That maybe Susan had gone somewhere better. But my heart knew the truth. He was gone.
My body trembled. It felt like the cold that had entered Susan had seeped into my bones too—freezing me from the inside.
To be continued…
Written on August 18, 2011