The Final Replay

 

10th farewell.

One of my oldest photographs. It's my birthday.

First motorcycle ride with Jessica to Konkan.

First bike ride with Joel.

Rajasthan bike ride with Awnish and Sandeep.

If I were to die today, what fragments of my life would my brain hold onto before it shuts down?

I think I would remember the quiet mornings standing beside my grandmother, waiting for the school bus. The rush of running back to class as the recess bell rang. Endless summer days spent playing cricket and wandering through the colony with friends, with no sense of time.

I would remember the small, warm moments waiting eagerly for Papa to return from work, watching Mummy make chapatis on the stove in our B-Type home.

Then come the journeys—trips to Bangalore and Goa with Mummy, Papa, and Anisha. And meeting Joel, who unknowingly changed my path, introducing me to motorcycle riding and photography. That was the beginning of a different life—a wanderer’s life. My first ride still feels vivid, perhaps because of the photographs, or maybe because it was the moment something inside me came alive. Since then, I’ve explored the outskirts of Pune in every season, at every hour, each ride telling its own story.

I would remember meeting Jessica before marriage, the adventures we shared, the journeys we took, the meals she lovingly cooked, and the quiet joy of helping her in the kitchen. But more than anything, I will never forget her standing beside me through chemotherapy, strong, present, unwavering. Along with her, Mummy, Papa, and Maushi, who carried me through the weight of radiation therapy with their support and strength.

And when all memories settle…

Perhaps it will finally be time to meet Sharad Mama, the one who still finds his way into my dreams.