Dear person I miss,
I had a few people that came to mind when I saw this. People who were back in my hometown were first, but then I realised, I still get to see them when I want to. If there was someone I missed, and couldn’t see anymore (and regretted that fact too), it would be you – Munna. Apart from my grandfathers, you are the one other person I feel the absence of in my life.
We had a rather limited amount of time to get to know each other, but we did. And from the first time we spoke, the both of us knew what a great friendship we had started. You taught me to go after my dreams, and kept me going when things got tough. Manchester United conversations between us were endless, and whenever there was a game I might have missed, or something I didn’t understand, you very passionately explained it to me. If I still love the team and the game, know it is because you guided me onto the path in the first place. You always had a happy outlook on so many things in life, and if I have that today, you were the one who inspired it. Thank you for always being so good to, and for, me.
When you told me about your cancer, all I could do was wish for the best. Any of the silly wishes I made – on an eyelash, on a star, on a clover – it was that you would get better. And everytime you went for chemo, told me you were getting better, I thanked my stars.
And then the day when I thought I’d write to you and see how were doing came. I thought I’d remind you your birthday was around the corner, and like every year I hadn’t forgotten (as you had predicted I would, silly man!). I open your profile and read an RIP post as I do. I was stunned and started scrolling down, and realised your wall was flooded with these messages. It hit me that something had finally taken you, had broken that happy demeanour. As I read I realised exactly a month before I came to write to you, you had passed. The cancer had finally caught up, and that was devastating.
But I also remembered how you said when I left Dubai that somehow, somewhere, you will be there to look out for me. And I believed that. Then and now. It’s been two years since you’ve left us, and everytime something grand happens in my life, it strikes me that you possibly had something to do with it.
The birthday of yours after you passed, I got my first big assignment at work. The next birthday, I got the new job at my uni, and a whole host of good things. And the most recent evidence, which I only just realised while writing this, was when my blog reached its major milestone. June 13th, 2013. 2 years after you passed.
All these may just be random things, or you may have something to do with it. Either way, I would love to believe you do. Just so I know, you’re there out there, watching over me and the countless other lives you’ve touched.
Thank you for being a part of my life. I miss you, Munna.