A box of chocolates, no more.

“Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you’re gonna get”, said a wise-man’s mom. What no one told you was, that Life can also be like a big bully, who will snatch the best of what you pull out of that box of chocolates. She leaves you crying and desperate for what you lost, and waits to make a second round next time you pull out something from the box. Such is her nature.

 

My little sister, Srishti, left us, for her onward journey to heavens this month. She was 24. She possessed the purest of hearts, was the most generous in her actions, always thought for others and loved everyone unconditionally. Everyone who had ever been touched with her friendship or love would know how grave the loss is and how time would never be able to heal what fate has inflicted.

 

Srishti was different. She would donate blood without telling people. She would give away her lunch box if she found someone else who needed it. She would never be tired of caring for the old or pampering the kids. She never stopped from loving someone because they were strangers. Everyone got much more than just benefit of doubt.

 

Life moves on. But what if for once, you don’t want it to move on? What if you want it to standstill and acknowledge that the world is never going to be the same again. The normalcy is sickening. You want to hate everything which is normal. You want to hate the people who still keep cribbing about their petty worries, you want to hate the traffic which keeps racing and killing people as usual, you want to hate the hunger and thirst which you still feel as usual, you want to hate everything that survived and moved on. You want to hate yourself.

 

Whenever I would pack bags while leaving home after a holiday, Srishti would keep telling me to take all sort of things, her books, her pens, her notepads and what not. I would tell her, I don’t need them, but she just couldn’t stop. She wanted to make sure I never fall short of anything I might ever need. In her short life, she has packed enough love and memories for each of us to last a life time. She knew we’ll need them.

 

“Dying, is a part of life”, said the wise-man’s mom. I don’t know about death, but Srishti is, and will always be.

 

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For those of you who share the loss, I would also like to share these precious memories of her.

 

PS: We lost Srishti to a motorcycle rider who was trying to save a 100 meter distance by driving on the wrong side. Observing traffic safety at all times is important and it starts with you. Please observe traffic safety at all times.