I didn’t know Rajni well, in fact I didn’t know Rajni at all. She was in a group furthest away from me during our MBBS years and there haven’t been many opportunities since then. She was however one of the students we all knew when we joined the course. A mini celebrity in those days, a SSLC rank holder. I admired her from afar and probably my younger version must have stirred some envy into the equation wondering how much work she must have put into it to achieve this feat. Years later I met her at the Dubai get together, which I realise now was my last meeting with Rajni. I spoke to most of our classmates there but the morning I spoke to Rajni is still something that I remember the most. She didn’t know me and yet the affection with which she greeted me, the sincerity in her every word, the happiness in her eyes took me by surprise. I could feel that she meant every word she said.
She said she enjoyed reading my messages. I regret that I didn’t tell her this when I had the chance. I hope she is reading this from wherever she is right now. Probably in a classroom up in the heavens with our previously departed friends.
Dear Rajni, I admired you the first time I saw you, I admired you a hundred times more the last time I met you. You came across as an affectionate, genuine and wonderful person. From the messages that have been pouring in, it is evident that you have touched the hearts of everyone you have come across. Your son, Aadi, has inherited your wonderful qualities and has endeared himself to each and everyone of the classmates who have met him. Your loss is a huge one for us, your son, your family and your patients. You will not be forgotten but will remain in our memories as the cheerful brave soul that you were till we meet again and join you in the celestial classroom of 1977 once more, one day.
