Tejaswee Rao

I didn't know Tejaswee Rao. I stumbled across her blog as I browsed through the Internet, looking for my next blogger fix.

As I read the very first post,I felt an overwhelming sense of loss wash over me. I had stumbled across somebody who shared so much of my world vision, a kindred spirit, perhaps even a faceless friend.

And as I read a post about her take on Growing Old and Dying Early, I felt a lump in my throat. For the girl who said she wanted to be immortal. For the girl who felt one lifetime wasn't enough to experience the world in all its glory, it was suddenly over too soon.

I thought a part of me had become numb to the idea of death. Perhaps more accepting.  Somehow a complete stranger slit the wound open.

And I mourned again. For the girl who wanted it all. For the beautiful being that was. For all the maybes and the ought-to-bes. For the unborn daughter she wrote a letter to. For all the women of substance who would have lost a sister. For the world, because a light had been put out.

I don't know what it is about death, but it breeds a sense of familiarity with complete strangers.

I feel Tejaswee's loss like she was part of my life. Like I feel little Shraddha's. When their loved ones write to them and about them, I grieve along.

We are all so strange to believe we are very separate beings when we are connected so closely by threads deeper than we know or realise.

Tejaswee, you are an inspiration. I know that we've never met, and perhaps on this plane we never will, but you must know that your life will not go unappreciated, your words will never go unread and you will never be forgotten.

Even by a complete stranger.