The final piece of him I saw before he was engulfed by fire were his socks sticking out from his swollen feet on the ramp he lay.
Those white Nike socks he's always worn, and never liked repeating.
Throughout our US trip, he would religiously leave behind his socks in every hotel we stayed as he didn't want to repeat it, or even carry it back with him and wash it.
Could never understand the logic, much like so much else he used to do.
I recounted this story in South Africa just before boarding our flight from Cape Town to Johannesburg, and exactly on the seat in which I sat, there was a sock lying there.
Someone else did the very same thing he always did, leaving a sock behind everywhere he went.
It's almost as if he's following me all the time. Even the way I was in Bangalore the day he passed was just serendipity.
It's as if he wanted me there. To see him one last time before he left this physical world, only to remain, and haunt me, in the metaphysical world, day in and out.
Every day I think about him and encounter one epiphany after another, the latest one being;
Humans are blessed with a concious brain, but all blessings are also a curse. Our brain can over think, and impact us psychologically, and the only way to overcome this is to keep yourself physically occupied.
Keep doing things, so as to not give the brain the opportunity to think of things that can unnecessarily upset you.
Young mothers may have the most to worry about, but they still get by, because they are too busy to sit and worry.
However, here comes a big flaw, if you have a combination of a brain that over thinks more than the average human, and at the same time, physically lazy to keep yourself occupied, what happens then?
This is the birth of depression.
I have a brain that over-thinks. I had this in common with Bala. An over-thinking brain is not to be confused with smartness. I'm not smart at all. I thought Bala was, but he proved me wrong with his death.
An over-thinking brain is simply one that makes a lot of noise. So much noise that the only way to shut it out is by staying physically occupied, so that the brain has something to focus on, and thereby shutting out that noise.
I manage to do this on most days. But I get tired as well. And age is not helping. Therefore there are days the noise gets so extreme that I feel depressed for absolutely no apparent reason.
I wish I could be simple like so many other people, and just be satisfied with what I have. But I was just not born this way. And neither was Bala. And his over-thinking brain, that he possibly only tried to numb with alcohol, finally got to him.
My struggle continues.
