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I Miss You

It's been over a year since the day Puja passed away, yet she is far from forgotten. Not a day goes by where I don't hear her laughter ring in my ears, or sense her yelling out my name the way she did when she was very frustrated with me. I feel her presence near me all the time and sometimes I find myself almost trying to talk to her. I watch indian movies alone at times and think of things she'd say or laugh at. I still can't get myself to believe that she is no more. I can't believe that I can't pick up the phone, dial her number and hear her go off about things that seemed so meaningless to others. She had that quality. She found meaning in everything. I loved that about her. Today, as I am preparing myself for bringing a new life into this world, I often wonder what Puja would say or do to help me along. I dream of her often and ache to feel just one last hug from her. She was one of those people that didn't just hug you lightly, she hugged from the heart. I'd give anything for one of those hugs just now. I'm writing this because it's a way for me to let out some of the pain I still feel. I hope it allows all of you that read it to realize how special your friends are and to never ever take them for granted. Friendship is priceless, please don't take it for granted.

The following is something a friend of mine who had
come to know Puja through me wrote. Though she only
knew Puja for a short time, she felt what all those
who had the privelege of knowing her felt and she
wrote this poem in her honor....

On the dawn of Puja’s last smile
Rain pounded on my windowpane, as steady as a drummer’s beat
And I could not see the daybreak.
Puja’s pain was the furthest from my mind,
Even as I listened to a copy of the tape that I made
her on my Walkman.
As I rode the subway from King Street to Ballston
Station,
Icy needles pierced my face as I stood shivering
At the bus stop
On the morning of Puja’s last laugh.

On the morning of Puja’s last pain
I fell asleep on the bus
(It’s a long commute to work.)
I woke to see my world clothed in a blanket of
whiteness.
Stepping off of the bus,
I watched in awe of the fat cotton ball snowflakes
Swirling all around me, floating through the air like
dandelion seeds.

In the noonday of Puja’s last thought,
Clouds gave way to powder blue skies and
My most distant thought Puja’s last feeling.
My mind was on the day’s strange weather.
In the midday of Puja’s last fear,
I sat next to Zarlasht, my heart and soul sister
And we smiled at the thought of Puja’s music
And took comfort in the assurance
Of her steady breath late last night.
I wondered how to weave Zarlasht a security blanket
From words that would soothe
The anguish of losing her best friend.

The workday is done and now I’m on the bus again
On the afternoon of Puja’s last memory
Asking God how I can comfort a bereaved soul
With the delivery of anticipated absolution.
Zarlasht drives toward a hazy destination
With stinging, tear-blurred eyes to encounter
An irrevocable fate.
I’m still on the bus looking skyward
On the afternoon of Puja’s last care
Wondering why the pain of separation
Weighs so heavily upon the heart,
Canceling out every petty fight and
Heated disagreement,
Leaving a best friend wishing for one last
Argument, embrace, good-bye.

Then I see the sun beaming weakly
And the pale quarter moon hanging on the opposite end
Of the same evening sky.
And although I will never have regrets,
Memories of Puja or the emptiness her absence leaves
In the hearts of her loved ones,
I know that only God has the answers
And only He knows the purpose of losing a best friend,
The Giver of Puja’s last breath.

Charisse, I thank you with all my heart for that poem.
It brings back so many memories and tears but it also
brings a sense of relief in knowing that God only
has the answers and it enables me to put my faith
in God and truly believe that everything
happens for a reason.

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