of Death and Sorrow.

 It was a rather quiet and dull midnight in June, when I found myself struggling to sleep, plagued by the relentless grip of jet lag. In an attempt to soothe my restless mind, I turned to the familiar comfort of old school records. I sifted through photographs, scrapbooks, gifts, and cards, each item a portal to memories long past. As I waded through this sea of nostalgia, my hand brushed against a postcard from 2016 sent all the way from Niagara. On its back were the words: "Hey Praj, I thought I'd give you my bro code after my wedding. But Batman doesn't need bro code, right? Love, Viv."

In that moment, a floodgate of realisation opened within me. I had never truly spoken about him; the weight of his absence had been festering inside me for far too long.

I first met Vivek in August 2008. Discovering we were both from Bangalore, he felt duty-bound as a senior to rag me. Over the next few years, our relationship evolved from senior-junior dynamics to deep friendship and beyond. Vivek was not just my best friend; he was my brother, my family. The sorrow of his absence is a heavy burden to bear. Every decision I've made over the past three years has been influenced by his memory.

People often speak only of the good when someone dies, but doing so would be a disservice to Vivek's true essence. He was as flawed and human as anyone could be—riddled with insecurities, biases, and an unbounded ego. We fought frequently over trivial matters and significant issues alike: his mistakes, my mistakes, our egos, and even his relationship choices. There was a period between 2013 and 2015 when we didn't speak at all—a regret we both carried. Perhaps it was age or overwhelming emotions that drove us apart; more likely, it was our deep care for each other that fuelled our anger.

Vivek was undeniably human with all his imperfections, but one thing is certain: he was an extraordinary surgeon. As I sit in my room surrounded by photos and memories of our shared past, I can only hope that wherever he is now, he is in a better place.