A batch-mate of mine committed suicide yesterday evening.

When I first heard the news, it felt like being stabbed with a small knife – the wound is not deep and yet it hurts. It hurts enough for you to yell. And with time, as the details are revealed and the news begins to sink in, it feels as if the knife just turned into a sword as it grows deeper and deeper into your wound making your flesh burn. And mind you, it’s not a gradual process. No no no.. It’s just a sudden jerk of motion and you twitch in agony. You twitch because it hurts you. You twitch because it brings back old memories. But most importantly, you twitch because if fate had been unkind, you very well know that the person in question could have been anyone – even you.

Rest in peace, Ghanghor.