Richly Short-Lived: Bequeathing A Wealth Of Inspiringly Immortal Memories - World News Network

By Suvir Saran
New Delhi [India], August 7 (ANI):
Agarche kar-e-duniya kuch nahi hai
Magar is ke alawa kuch nahi hai
Ye duniya hai yunhi chalti rahegi
Mire hone se hona kuch nahi hai
These golden words from Shahzad Ahmad give a wealth of wisdom and take our egomaniacal heft away from us. They tell us that even though our work takes up much of our life, there’s not much to it. The world will keep living its own journey; the accolades, promotions, and possessions we leave behind will make no difference to the larger picture of that passage and how it unfurls and where it is headed. In a few lines, Ahmad shows us how insignificant we humans really are and how transient our existence is.
TCA Jayant, my wondrously affectionate and generously kind nephew, passed away most unexpectedly one morning three months ago at age 34. Living, loving, working hard and celebrating life and those living around him one minute, and gone the next. Jayant’s life was too rich with wholesome beauty and lived with purity of intent and purpose to be taken away so young. But perhaps his life illustrates the point that the poet was making in the ghazal, that life is life and nothing else, and that we can be one with it, or refuse to accept this truth and feel choked and dead even as we live. Short and sweet, full and rich, deep and meaningful, extraordinarily ordinary, free of drama and one with discoveries and fulfilment — this is the life that Jayant was living with his gorgeous and gregarious wife and shared with his extended family.
The news of his early morning passing felt like a disturbing and disheveling tremor across the world inhabited by his family members, his friends, and those with whom his path crossed. I still remember being barely awake when the phone rang but finding myself entirely in shock and aghast with the finality of loss that this news brought our way.
Jayant, born in Delhi, raised mostly here as well, went to Mumbai for college, and then back to Delhi as a young professional working hard and smart, inspired and with vision, balancing work and personal life with mindful care, and leading a successful company with business acumen that came attached with a heart and soul. I remember his office being close to my first restaurant in the Delhi NCR and him calling to ask how he could help me spread the word. He offered to give me patronage and contacts at businesses in the hood that my marketing team could connect with. That a young nephew, still settling into this world in his twenties, was making such a genuinely felt effort for me — it was this act of selfless generosity and authenticity that made me find heartfelt respect for Jayant and linked our relationship with a tangible thread of comforting humanity.
Tarini Manik, the effervescent and beautiful other half of Jayant, whose naughtily mischievous eyes were his refuge, has been rendered alone, a verdict that is harsh and shattering and seen as an ugly card dealt to her by all who love, respect and admire her. Tarini and Jayant began dating when they were very young. Their romance may have been tied into a knot when they were married, but it was at age 5 that their shared journey started. Tarini concentrates on breathing right now; it is all she can do since losing Jayant to a sudden cardiac arrest. We all lost Jayant when he passed away, but Tarini lost herself too, and must wonder who she is today. The arms that comforted her, the presence that excited her, the spouse who anticipated intuitively what her needs and thoughts were, the tender touch that made her feel full and complete — in losing Jayant she lost all of that and more. I mourn for Jayant, lamenting with heartbreak for Tarini and wishing for strength and memories to keep her looking forward.
Namita, TCA Ranganathan, and Surabhi, the parents and sister of Jayant, for them too I lose sleep. No greater tragedy can afflict a parent than the demise of a child. When that child is a son who made time to be there for his parents, who took good care and kept up with their lives and issues, it only adds to the pain and loss. As for Surabhi, a sibling’s relationship transcends all others. It is that one bond that follows the entire arc of our lives. That this has been cut short so suddenly, so abruptly, certainly brings untenable grief that comes without salve. But as the sun that was Jayant set upon our earth, it has found expression through the cooling light of illumination that comes from the moon and stars. I have seen in these three left behind the ability to accept the loss and pain and strive to find ways of moving forward.
I can only imagine that Tarini and Namita Didi and family are all crying, crying and crying more still, as stopping will only rob Jayant of the connection to them he needs from his new vantage, the astral plane from which he is connected to us all. Accepting our emotions and grief is an important step in living wholly and becoming one with self and those we love who have moved on from their bodily form. There is never enough time to grieve. I remember being numb for a good part of five years after my papa’s passing, and those years made me closer to him than I had ever been before. I saw him in flowers and cloud formations, in the protean ripples that took form in our trout stream at our farm; he was the unfurling petals of the water-drenched peony blossom and the heady scent of the lilacs that I waited for with anticipation annually.
As I mark Jayant’s 35th birthday on August 7, I celebrate this young man’s ability to have matured with speed and lived with noble intention and his rare capability to be equal parts professional and playful — a doting husband, a responsible son and brother, a circumspect and caring relative, and a deeply connected friend and colleague, all at once. This was borne out in the prayer meeting that had standing room only at a larger than large auditorium and many more watching online. All sharing their remarkable stories and connections to this beautiful human who was snatched away unexpectedly by the puppeteers of this world. Yet, even as I mourn, I find hope and comfort in Jayant’s story and short journey. Because of his brief tenure in this world, I see life with deeper clarity.
In the finality and coldness of death lies the supersensible ultimacy of us becoming one with the one and all. Jayant’s departure from our midst has made him one with that rarefied and refined world that is beyond the tangible one where we live and feel, where we cannot lessen his stature by being privy to his GPS location, shape or form. But we can enjoy him through the strength of turning memories into tangible feelings and realizing he is part of our shared DNA and memoryscape and so in our blood, breathing with us, and part of our dreams.
On Jayant’s birthday, I remember with pride a nephew who made time for his uncle, a son who was always there for his parents, a brother who was proud of his sister and her life, and a spouse who loved fully and always sported a twinkle in his eyes for his wife. Jayant showed us through his example of living a life well, packed with an abundance of love, caring, generosity, magnanimity, sensitivity, grace and humanity, that it isn’t the years that we live that count, but what we pack into each moment and how we give of ourselves, touching all the lives around us. He turned the banality of our human existence into a wealth of immortal emotions that shine bright and make our lives sparkle with his presence always in our midst. (ANI/Suvir Saran)
Disclaimer: Suvir Saran is an author, columnist and Chef. The views expressed in this column are his own.

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