The bittersweet aspect of Facebook when it reminds you of the birthday of your loved one who is no more. Not that I needed a Facebook reminder. Mihir you turned 16 on March 5, it would have been such a milestone and a year of celebration had you been around. Hard to imagine you are no longer with us physically.

It is so hard at times and so difficult to come to terms with - this existential authenticity of you not being there, you that I want to hug and kiss and care. You were and our are precious boy loved beyond definition.

Often I look at your pictures but the more I stare at them the more I go beyond the realm of understanding. How could it happen? How did you leave us? Why you? There is not even a drop of hope that I could see you again. And that becomes a fog in my life, a fog of sadness that lingers in my heart and refuses to clear away.

The boy who loved school so much, the boy who loved badminton, the boy who threw us giggling into the air with his antics – that boy no longer with us. Life is so unfair Mihir.

When you fell ill, I had mapped out your treatment and knew it would take time but that you would come around. Because children are resilient, I grew up believing. If I had some sense of how little time you had with us, I would have spent every waking moment to nurse you and caress you and feed you with all the good things you loved in life.

We all face mortality but yours was untimely and I feel totally dissatisfied that I hadn’t spent enough time with you. Our relationship was evolving, I wanted to be your best aunt in the years to come, it was not something impelled by the instinct to do so but by this inexplicable love I had for you from the moment you were born. Which is why your birthday today is a reminder of our painful goodbye.

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