The Man Who Shaped Me
On love, loss, and the bond that shaped me.
This year marks the 2nd death anniversary of my uncle. He is not just my father's younger brother, but my parents’ best friend, our lifeline and my rock. I lost a second parent, a mentor, a steady presence I had assumed would always be there.
Born as a middle child of 3 in a modest household in Raipur, he embodied the spirit of a classic middle child. Rebellious, carefree, independent, so close to becoming a goon, but the kind who would take a bullet for his family. He went to a Hindi medium government school which he barely survived, unlike my Dad and Auntie P, who were relatively better in academics. But what he lacked in the straight A's, he made up with his wit, street smarts and an almost magical way with people.
Growing up, it wasn’t so easy for them. A modest government salary stretched over a household of five, and especially with a mother battling illness, children are forced to grow up faster than they should have. So Dad took on odd summer jobs to help, and Chacha (uncle, in Hindi) learned to cook, clean, and care for the family. Skills that in many ways, shaped the man he became.
After finishing school, he knew that the academic life wasn’t for him and he wanted to explore life and see what’s out there, so he moved to Mumbai. While he didn’t have fancy degrees and his professional career didn’t follow conventional standards, the wealth of experience and connections he accumulated was priceless. There are some things that textbooks can’t teach.
My relationship with him is very different from a typical uncle-niece relationship. He attended every school function, parent teacher meetings, knew all my friends, helped me shop, stood by me when I got my first tattoo (honestly, if it weren’t for him, I probably wouldn’t have gone through with it 🙂)
He celebrated every small victory as if it were his own. I would often times find him teary eyed for the smallest achievement I had.
It’s a running joke in our family that it wasn’t just my aunt who married him as I was glued to him through all rituals on his wedding day. We have our own triangle of love. :)
He shaped my life in ways I'm only now beginning to understand. The values he lived by — ambition, integrity, compassion, family loyalty are now deeply embedded in who I am.
There are days when I catch myself reaching for my phone to call him, to share some small triumph or seek advice, only to remember he's gone. I often find myself adopting his mannerisms, and these unconscious adoptions are perhaps my way of keeping him close, of ensuring his essence remains in this world even as he has left it.
I wish I had asked him more questions. About his childhood, about how he navigated life's hardships, about what gave him that boundless capacity to love us all so fiercely, so completely. I wish I had told him more often just how much he meant to me.
And I wish I had taken more photos and videos. It's strange how we assume the people we love will always be around. We get so caught up in the moment with them that we forget to capture it. So if you’re reading this, take the photos. Record the videos. One day, you’ll be glad you did. Because when the people we love leave, all we have are memories and I hold onto mine with everything I have.
But no matter how much time passes, one thing will never change.
It's me and you against the world, always.