Dear Jonu,
Georgie and I were friends for a long time and yet, I had never met you. Seeing you today, speaking at his funeral was so comforting - because I know Georgie lives on in you.
I remember Georgie as he was in the childhood photo that he carried in his wallet, in his favourite (or was it?) blue shirt in college, sitting on the steps, playing cricket, outside classic store - cigarette in hand and looking like he had not a care in the world; his mind and heart full of care.
He was my first love in the sweetest way. I used to call him my angel (never to his face!) because he had so much goodness in him and I wanted that to surround me always. He taught me how to love and let go because he was never mine, but he was always mine. He had that gift - or rather patient practice - to make the person he was speaking to feel that nothing else mattered in that moment in which he was listening to you.
And he could talk! Like you said - a few minutes to hours of conversation. I could always count on him to tell me a few random facts or a story or two. He told me all about international affairs and random trivia, he told me stories from the bible, he told me stories about his friends and the many people he met in Goa. Sitting in Hot Pot with his rice and a drink - talking through his meal giving me all the details of everyone around him. He was such a storyteller! We also had the same conversation innumerable times, not because he wanted to relive them but simply because he would forget that he told and then he would tell me again in full detail.
At some point daily conversations became weekly. Weekly calls became monthly check-ins. Monthly checks stretched to every now and then. Still, he was there every birthday, every Christmas and New Year and every other time. I often missed his calls but I always thought I can call him anytime and he will be there - and he was always there. When I now look at my phone with the four missed calls from Georgie, I only wish I spoke to him each of those times. I wish he hadn't slept through our last meeting and I wish I had made more, much more effort to meet him. I thought there would be a next time. I took so much of him for granted and he would let me.
He told me so much about you and your family. I feel I had front row tickets to your life - your mum coming to Calcutta all those years ago, your parents striving so hard for you, the friends at church and relatives back in Kerala, and you. He was so proud of you; of the person you have become. But actually, he would have been proud of you even if you turned out any other way. He loved you and Priyam. He spoke so much about you. He both admired and challenged the effort she put in. He always said she did too much. I am glad she did. I am glad your mother has the both of you with her.
To your mum- please tell her what she already knows; she raised a gem of a boy! I would like to imagine him again as an angel, this time having a chat and a bit of a laugh with God.
To you I would like to imagine him somewhere on a beach, with a drink in hand, his laughter heard from miles away.
With a lot of love for Georgie and my most sincere wishes for you - Anisha
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