I did not see you much nor did I know your departure would hurt so much. But I don’t seem to be able to relegate your smile to the part of my memory where pain makes way for forgetfulness, for oblivion. It is a daunting smile. Maybe because it has always been so genuine. 

You were in the middle of a crowd when I spotted that hearty smile on a graceful face of a gracious lady. I was back then fighting a small battle that now seems so insignificant. You came with your sister and you just both knew how important that battle was for me. So you stayed for the whole evening, your smile as unwavering as ever. And every time we met since whether at big family events or at the club, you crossed the room to talk to me. Not because it was me but because it was you: a refined, kind-hearted and ever so friendly being. Then I heard about your illness from well-meaning relatives who were praying for you. Then you raised everyone’s hopes by getting better before you decided there was a better place for you elsewhere. There was a lot of peace and serenity around you because those were the feelings you inspired. 

Your life was short and discreet. But in your calm, discreet and gracious way, you were an example of courage among your generation. Your open-mindedness made a strong impact on those you knew and those who knew you. A true Mauritian, you lived to show the world how artificial and even abhorrent the differences between religions, colours and communities were. You did not talk. The impact you made was through your sincere behaviour, the commitments you took and the decisions you made for yourself. I never told you how much I have always admired you for that. I hope you can hear me from wherever you are. Feel proud, dear Kiran, for you translated into action words that in the mouths of many sound so hollow. You led the way as only true leaders do.

You went too soon, leaving behind a void that your family will not be able to fill. I can’t even begin to imagine the agony, distress and anguish they must be going through. Burying one’s child is the most unnatural experience one can go through. There is no word for it for the pain is indescribable. I hope however that they will be comforted by the fact that you will take your joie de vivre wherever you are. I can see you smiling and spreading happiness around you in the same way you did when I first had that glimpse of you. 

Fare thee well, Kiran. And until we meet again, keep watching over your family with that good-natured smile. You did not die. People like you do not die. They keep living in those whose lives they have touched. And you have touched the lives of so many of us. We will miss you.