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.