She was one of my batch mates. Although she left school some where around grade 6 or 7, I’d seen her randomly at parties and concerts but was never on a hi-bye basis with her since I didn’t know her that well.
She died a few days ago.
It was terrible seeing her lying inert in a stuffy funeral parlour surrounded by gaudy flowers, looking remarkably lifelike in a pair of jeans and t-shirt, right down to the leaf shaped earrings she wore and the colourful band around her hair. Her face was swollen and unrecognisable. She’d died riding a motorbike with her boyfriend.
I know it’s highly illogical, but I’m pissed off with her boyfriend. I’m pissed off at the fact that a girl, not yet 18 had to die simply because of a moment of thrill. (Yes, I know that he’ll be living with this guilt for the rest of his life, and yes, I do feel a tiny shred of sympathy for him. But just a bit, mind you.)
I’m pissed off because no parent should ever have to bury his or her offspring. Seeing her parents going about in a daze accepting meaningless words of sympathy from nameless strangers made me realize the extent of their pain. No parent deserves to go through that kind of hell.
I’m pissed because I never really knew her. I could’ve talked to her when I met her here and there. A casual ‘hi’ would never have hurt. But I didn’t.
Who knows we could’ve even been friends.