Rest In Peace, Bimal Sandhu

Yesterday, I found out that one of my high school classmates, Bimal Sandhu, died this past weekend. It does not matter when he died or how he died, the only thing that matters is that he is gone forever.  My heart goes out to his family; I truly cannot imagine how they are getting through the days without breaking.  It has only been one day since I was told of Bimal's death and I am a complete mess.

What made me want to write this blog post was partially to commemorate Bimal's life, but also because of a memorable quote I heard on one of my favorite TV shows, One Tree Hill.  If you have never seen this show, it is truly an amazing piece art and television.  In this particular scene, Haley James Scott, a literature teacher at Tree Hill High School, is telling her students how to act after learning of a tragic death of one of their classmates.  One of her students asks her, "What's the point?" to which she initially responds, "There is no point."  But, later in the episode, she revisits the question.  She does see a point to it all and tells her class this:

"When something that's tragic and evil and unexplainable happens, like losing someone forever, I still wonder, just like you do.  When archaeologists uncover lost civilizations, and they unearth these worlds that have long since been destroyed, and you know what they find most often? They find stories.  Stories from people who have been gone for thousands of years because chances are, they, like you, wanted to know, 'What was the point?' They told their stories and they tried to make sense out of their lives and their worlds and their tragedies.  This is a literature class, and that is what writers do.  We put pen to paper in times of devastating tragedy, and we just try to make sense of it.  Maybe we will find clarity in some of those words.  Maybe, we will find peace." - Haley James Scott 

Haley answers, "What's the point?" (Speech Video)    

This was such an impactful scene, and I felt it really fit with my situation.  When I first heard the news of my classmate's awful, untimely death, I went into shock.  My body began uncontrollably shaking and my heart raced.  I cried and I felt numb.  Ultimately I thought, "Why do terrible things happen to such kind people?"  Honestly, nothing made sense.  So, this is me trying to make sense of this tragedy.  Maybe I will find clarity in these words.  Maybe I will find peace.

Bimal and I were in the same graduating class.  His birthday was one day after mine, he was on the football, basketball, and track teams, and was the most gentle soul you could ever meet.  Our high school was not like most, because our senior class was only made up of 166 students.  Over the course of four years, our class not only knew each other by full name, but knew things about each person and had some kind of relationship with them.  By senior year we had all grown so close, that it was extremely difficult to graduate and leave all of our closest friends.  We were not just classmates.  We were family.  We Are Seattle Prep.  Losing Bimal to our class was losing family.  And I know that my suffering is not even a fraction of what his real family must be feeling, but I feel as if one of the invisible teathers keeping me grounded and sane has snapped and broken.  I feel an emptiness that is beyond description.  Because never did I think for one second that something as tragic as this could ever happen to someone I know.       

But it did happen.  And this realization is gutting.  No matter how many times I will try to push away the darkness and fill my head with good memories of Bimal, the dark clouds find their way back into my mind.  One minute I will be okay and the next I will breakdown in tears.  Yet, I believe it is normal to feel confusion, anger, sadness, frustration, and overwhelming emotions in times of death.

This is not about me, though.  This is about Bimal Sandhu, a 19-year-old student at the University of Washington, that was taken from this world too soon.  The most kind-hearted person you could ever meet, now gone from this life.  I would not call myself religious, but rather spiritual.  I know Bimal is in a better place now, watching over us all.  He continues to guide us to be our best selves just as he did when he was alive.  He inspires me now to live each day with no regrets, and to never miss an opportunity to tell the people I care about that I love them.  Because you never know when you will lose them.

Bimal, I love you, I miss you, and may you rest in absolute paradise.

Until we meet again, friend.          

Realizing You Are Really An Adult

How is it that late night thoughts are always the deepest and truest of what is inside of our heads?  As I lie awake in my college dorm room, (partially due to the copious amount of coffee I had before I went to sleep) I find myself too wired to sleep.  And from this burst of creative energy, I am writing my first blog post.  

Life is oftentimes marked with milestone moments that define you.  For example: your first steps, starting Kindergarten, puberty, graduating high school, college, marriage, etc. are all considered milestone moments in our society.  Yet, in these moments, I often did not feel their true importance or have any epiphanies.  My moments of clarity and realization happen when I am least expecting them.  When I graduated high school, I did not feel any older or accomplished, nor sad or scared.  Now, being two states away from home without my family or my old friends, these feelings hit me.  Hard.  I mean like a rock to the back of the head kind of feeling.  I find myself in my spare time looking through photos of my high school memories and constantly talking about how amazing my hometown of Seattle is to my friends at Cal Poly.  You can call that what you wish – homesickness, lack of a purpose, a classic case of “I have no idea what I am doing with my life and I am freaking out” syndrome – but I believe it to be none of the above.  

It is 1:15am on a Sunday night, and I am smack dab in the middle of an untimely, but significant revelation.  It is the pure fact that I am not a kid anymore.  I’m hardly a teenager, really, considering I will be 20 years old in a few months.  And this is completely terrifying.  Because not long ago, I was eating home cooked meals with my family, going out with my best friends, and looking forward to graduating high school.  WHY was I so intent on going to college as soon as I could?  Now that I am here, I can see why people rave about the amazing parties, the new friends, and the crazy experiences.  But everyone failed to mention just how big of a change this really is.  Never in my life have I ever missed my family so much, and realized how much they have done for me.  Never in my life have I so desperately craved steamed broccoli or flat iron steak with mashed potatoes.  I constantly scold myself for not learning earlier how to do laundry, wake myself up for school, or tell myself to study.  

For the first time, I am truly alone.  For the first time, I have to learn to take care of myself.  This entire post was just to write down this late night thought that came to me all at once.  I am really an adult.  I am living on my own.  No one is forcing me to try hard in school, or make sure I am eating healthy, or taking care of myself.  I do these things now for my own want.  These desires to succeed and to be happy are deep-rooted in my upbringing and my 18 years of receiving advice from family and friends.  And yes, many times I find myself hopelessly craving to go back in time to when I did not have these responsibilities.  But then I come to understand that this is what it means to grow up.  To stop dwelling on the past, to live in the present moment, and to look towards a bright future.  Because, the future is bright.  I honestly believe that.  

Being an adult does not mean I am giving up watching Disney movies, eating Pop Tarts, and taking naps.  Let’s be honest.  There are some things you should never give up.  I simply decided that I am going to live my life enjoying every moment of it.  I will pick myself up and keep going after I have fallen.  I will take care of myself just as my parents took care of me. (Not to say they don’t anymore, because my mom is a lifesaver when it comes to answering life’s big questions or just talking about each other’s days).  And I hope that the next time I have a great epiphany that it is not in the middle of the night, because I have class tomorrow and I actually care about being awake for it.  Well, I applaud you for even reading this far into the novella that I just fabricated, and apologize for my many tangents.  I’m only 19 and this is my first blog post.  My final note is this: if you find yourself in my situation, realizing you are *old* and are scared for a future that you are paving yourself, turn that fear into motivation.  Let the future not be born from fear, but approach it with excitement and passion.  I am an adult now, and I can conquer the world.