A death, a dream and the search for healing

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Editor's note: My friend Surekha died this week last year. I got a taste of first-hand grief in the aftermath of her sudden death from COVID-19 during India’s devastating second wave. She was too young, too full of life. Too much depended on her. It was a raw shock for me to experience the absurd finality of the loss from this close. Thankfully, Surekha’s friends—and she has an army of devoted friends, fans and admirers—rallied to support each other and her family. As a coping ritual, I began to speak to her other best friends regularly. Some spoke about practical things, some showed each other how to focus on creation when destruction had been thrust upon us, and some provided support to those who needed to cry and crash periodically. I built bridges with Surekha’s family. As the first anniversary of the second wave came upon us in April this year, a generalized anxiety and sense of dread began to haunt me. There was also guilt. How dare I feel overwhelmed by my sorrow when others were coping with so much more? …