Dear Manivannan,
Brother, I heard the news of your death, it was bits and pieces. I was sad. I read it, I was shattered. Reason for your death was speculated. Some said that you killed yourself because of unrequited love. Some said that you hung yourself when you felt that you were unable to realize your dream. But, more than that, everyone failed to see the thorns on your path and the pain you beared while crossing it. Your life is a life of a kid at the extreme end of this society. A life no one would have ever dreamed of; A life, every youngster would have been inspired; A life of a child labour; A life of a troubled young man; A life filled with pain, sorrow and undying aspiration to announce yourself at the highest level in this in-equal world; A life of a cursed in this globalised society.
Brother, if the failed love was the only reason behind your act of taking your life then I would feel for your inability; I would feel for your blindness; I would feel that you refused to realize the efforts that evoked you; I would feel for your mother’s dream and a brother’s tears; I would feel that you will be forgotten by this 95% selfish society; I would feel for the people who trusted the resurrection of the cursed; I would feel for the society around you, that trusted you, encouraged you and did everything they could for a losing cause; I would feel that you failed to see the real love. A love that lasts the longest is the love that is never forgotten, motherly love said by a famous poet. I would feel that you are no more. I would feel that this society will be back to normal, the next day.
Brother, if you died because of your conclusion that you will not be able to realize your dream then you didn’t trust yourself; you didn’t look back at the path you have crossed; you didn’t see yourself; you didn’t back yourself; you behaved like a coward; you distracted from your path to glory; At last you destroyed yourself.
When I read the paper, statistics started speaking. Newspapers displayed the number of suicidal deaths. I dreamt what if you were alive, what if you have reached the height at-last, what if you have justified the efforts taken by the kind hearts. Life have become a question of “what’s and if’s”, “why’s and why not’s”.
Brother, it was started as if it’s going to become a legend. Now, hopes of thousands are lying beneath your coffin. If given a chance, I would engrave this letter on your coffin, because I’m not a passerby. I’m a person who literally shed tears seeing the news paper. You are gone. You are no more. You have become another passing cloud, not for me.
With love,
Anonymous brother
P.S: May your soul rest in peace.
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