Requiem for a Reader

“Hemjit passed away just now,” his aunt Presna Anish wrote at 6-17 pm on Feb 23. Priya who introduced him to our group conveyed the news a little later to KRG readers.

I remember the earliest message on Feb 5 when he wrote from Amrita Institute of Medical Sciences about his affliction: 
“Hello dear KRG members, Sorry for not being in touch. I am still at Amritha. Nothing looks positive or rosy. Feeling the full force the frustration and pain brought about by Cancer. I am undergoing blood and platelet transfusion every alternate day … one of the doctors I saw informed me that I have only six months more. But you can never say. I want to be discharged soon and go to my new home. But I need 24 hours monitoring. So I will be hiring a qualified nurse. Yet I feel I can fight back, overcome it and lead a beautiful life.”

We all encouraged him but feared for his life when he told us his platelet count kept dropping, in spite of transfusions. He was experiencing the deep pain of cancer; the solace is pain management is practiced scrupulously in Kerala without shying away from opioids. He did suffer, though, knowing his life was ending sooner than he hoped and sooner than he wanted to leave his dear wife, Sugandhi – she who loved him as no other, and now must bear the loss of her life’s companion.

Some time back Hemjit recited Veenapoovu or Fallen Flower (വീണപൂവ്‌) by Kumaran Asan which has these lines:
The lustre of your lovely limbs 
Grew faint and fled, 
And o'er your shining visage sweet 
A pallor spread; 
Life's oil dried, and fast wither'd 
Life's flame in you flicker'd and died. 

We are now the observers left to mourn the fate of our well-loved reader, sweet Hemjit, whose enthusiasm for our group abounded. He anticipated more than anyone the pleasure of coming to our readings, and if ever he missed a session it was on account of ill-health – hoping even to the last moment he would be well-enough to attend. He spent a lot of time preparing and wanted to do justice to the other readers and fully reward their attention.

He had an early association with the late Mr. Manjoo Menon, who was instrumental in setting up Raksha, the Society for the Care of Children with Special Needs, in Mattancherry. Mr Menon’s sympathy and determination to change the lives of the children and enrich them, extended to Hemjit also, who drew inspiration from this association to think of himself as capable to accomplish things. He credited Mr. Menon for changing him. As a footnote, Mr. Menon was one of those who attended early KRG readings and gave it a fillip at birth.

When Hemjit told us on Feb 5 of the blood cancer that had been diagnosed, I was reminded of a grim, but beautiful poem by Vikram Seth titled Soon, which begins:
I shall die soon, I know.
This thing is in my blood.
It will not let me go.
It saps my cells for food.

The poem ends with a cry which could be Hemjit’s:
Stay by my steel ward bed
And hold me where I lie.
Love me when I am dead
And do not let me die.

We can do this for one who bore the pain, and the state of living without the hope of living much longer. Rest in Peace, dear Hemjit.

Devika writes:

I'm so glad that I knew this amazing person, Hemjit. A rather short association of a year and a half.

There was so much one had to learn from him. His indefatigable spirit, never say die attitude, always smiling.....

And the same must be said for Sugandhi too with her charming smile, never showing outwardly her worries about her dear husband....and there must have been plenty of worries with Hemjit's health going through ups and downs.

They were so close, loved the way they used to take off on their birthdays and anniversary – the last trip to Athirapally in January was to celebrate his birthday.

He was so looking forward to living in his new apartment. Unfortunately, his life was cut short with the cancer that descended on him less than a month ago. The only relief is that he didn't suffer for too long.

Rest in peace, dear Hemjit....you will be missed! 

Zakia:
I am saddened by the news of dear Hemjit passing away.

I was fortunate to have known him as an acquaintance ever since I moved to Kochi as a new bride. I always liked to read his columns in the papers and admired his journalistic skills. When he came into the KRG fold he became a dear friend too, with whom I shared my birthday month. His soft-spoken and caring nature touched the very core of my heart. He had immense courage and a terrific attitude towards life. May his soul rest in peace! My heart goes out to dear Sugandhi, and to his extended family. His end came too soon – he was a wonderful, kind, and gentle human being. I am grateful to have been touched by his life.

Thommo:
I got to know Hemjit through the KRG, but it was a common friend Manoj Kumar Menon, who had studied with him in Chennai, who brought us closer. Also his uncle Anish and his mentor Manjoo Menon were among the first friends we made when we moved to Cochin in 1981.
Geetha and I travelled with Hemjit and Sugandhi to Kavita's estate and will not forget the time we spent together that day in Jan 2019.
Hemjit was the most ardent member of KRG and fought his disability and pain with a cheerfulness that amazed all of us at the KRG, and I am sure everyone else who knew him. Except for the slight grimace every time he started to stand up after a KRG session, I have never seen him without a smile on his face. It is a great pity that the cancer, which he in his indefatigable style was all prepared to fight, has taken him away from us.
We will miss him a great deal and can only take comfort in Kahlil Gibran's words: For life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one.

Geeta:
Dear Hemjit, you were so cheerful and courageous. Such an inspiration for me. Will always miss you. 

Shoba:
We are going to miss you Hemjit. Your gentle ways have formed a space in each one’s heart. It was much more of an effort for you to attend our sessions, but except when illness forced you to stay home, you were sure to be there, always early. It was a privilege to have known you. You taught us to endure infirmity with calmness, gentleness and good cheer.

Until we meet again, good friend!

KumKum
Hemjit left us on the 23rd of February. A week has passed since then. The tragedy is still fresh in our minds, and we are just learning to accept the permanence of his absence. 

I was very fond of him because he was devoted to KRG’s passion: to read. Although he had to overcome many hurdles to attend our monthly sessions, he felt at ease when he was participating. He was caring and appreciative, and a very happy person. He was as fond of us as we were of him.

Living with many disabilities, he learned to accept them with composure. His wife, Sugandhi, his wonderful family, friends, and his trusted driver, all lent their helping hands to this amazing man during his journey through life. His disabilities did not interfere with his enjoyment of life. He was a positive thinker, and always hoped for more out of life.

When he told us about his blood cancer, he was very hopeful of conquering it, just as he did so many other setbacks in his life. He kept his hopes up until the end, coming away from the grim surroundings of a hospital to his beautiful, new, apartment. His family boosted his spirits, and welcomed Hemjit to his new apartment, all done up by the contributions of members of his loving family. He spent the last few days of his life in these peaceful surroundings, while the insidious cancer was tightening its grip on his mortal life. 

Thank God, Hemjit did not have to live through the pain of a long-drawn fight. May God bless his soul. 

We will always cherish the memory of our beloved friend and fellow reader, Hemjit. He taught us how to be happy and cheerful when things around you are far from ideal. And, to enjoy life to one’s best with whatever is given.

I salute you, dear friend!

Priya
I don’t recall how or where I met Hemjit. Was it when he lived in Fort Cochin and had the cute Village Shop at the corner of Parade Ground? Or was it at Raksha School for children with special needs; or even before that when he worked with Tata Tetley? Suffice it to say that I grew richer after meeting him. His death has been a great loss. 

Hemjit was very generous with his words, making me feel exceptional; as if I had done something extraordinary by introducing him to KRG. When I saw how he blossomed in the group I realised that this is what he was seeking — a warm circle of friends who shared common interests.

Initially when he joined he was unsure, a bit nervous about his physical disability and speech impairment; he often asked if he was doing okay. He adjusted remarkably well and KRG took him in.

From then on he sailed along with us through so many authors and books, enjoying the debates and discussions. I noticed he loved reading poetic or romantic passages. I would tease him when he chose “moralistic or didactic passages” and he would retort that his naughty side would be too much for the group.

There are two incidents that stand out. Hemjit had started contributing as a freelance writer to The Hindu in 2012. Once I could not attend a lunch at his place on account of work, but his lovely wife Sugandhi sent a tiffin carrier full of food to the office through him. He was thoughtful, caring and extremely kind, qualities he shared with his wife.

On another occasion after completing an interview for a story I had commissioned, he called excitedly, “Priya, you wont believe this. Here I was talking with this decorated soldier about his bravery in battle and at the end of the interview, he stood up and saluted me. He said I was braver than him as I battled life on a daily basis and came up trumps."


Yes, dear Hemjit, you shone, and always had a smile. You will remain forever my cherished good friend, a good human being and as the officer said, a model of bravery.