This write up is a tribute to a person I knew as a friend and loved as a brother. This is a tribute to Amadeus 'Amy' D'souza.
If, like the others, you want to know how it happened; how he died, then you're at the wrong page because I won't be talking about it. You can ask any of his other friends who will be able to give you that side of the story. I will, instead, pen down the way he lived; not because he exemplified how to live the perfect life, but because he lived his imperfect life to the fullest!
I first met Amy as a 16-yr-old, wet-behind-the-ears punk, who was just so full of infectious energy and life. He was this impish, no-care-in-the-world kinda kid who was an absolute joy to be around. Within the four days spent together at the YES Camp, we got along splendidly. On the last day of the camp, I told him that if I ever had a little brother, I’d imagine him to be just like him; to which he replied, "You’re more than that!"
From then on, I stopped calling him Amy and began calling him 'bro'.
The thing with him was that if you didn’t know him, you would certainly end up hating his guts and wouldn't be able to stand him. You would find him noisy and irritating, and would want to slap his face! But, as you learned more about him and came to know him better, you start loving him for the very same qualities. I, like every other close friend of his, can only say, “Been there. Done that.”
He always showed himself to be this lonesome ranger; out alone in the world, with an exterior that was tough enough to cut through diamonds. He always came across like a person who didn’t give a damn about anyone else, but himself. Yet the truth about Amy, if there be nothing else, was that he cared too much; cared a lot for his family and even more for his friends. Cared enough to go to great lengths to do anything and everything he could, if he just knew that those actions would bring his loved ones an iota of bliss.
My friend circle and groups kept changing, but Amy was always my constant. Forever within my Circle of Trust (CoT); Sahadev among my Pandavas; 1/6th of my life, of me; my element of air; part of our Charmed – Power of Three and the little brother that I had always wanted. He partnered me in all our madness. His presence gave me a sense of assurance that someone was always watching my back! His wit, humour and childlike innocence were enough to make your day!
Yet, even as one who spent a sizeable amount of time with Amy, there were times when I couldn’t understand him. I remember the 2nd YES Camp that we had gone to. I had begun distancing myself from him because I just couldn’t get myself to understand and accept him for his volatile nature. He cried and later told me that Nidhi and I were the only ones to have ever made him cry. And I had already given up on him, when he turned the whole thing around and refused to let me give up on him! (This is possibly the greatest thing I’m thankful to you for, bro!)
When I moved out of my old house (after enduring months of tyranny and abuse from my uncle), I was quite embarrassed to call my friends over to my new place. With the kind of money we had; the kind of home we could afford was not exactly 'ek sapnon ka mahal'. This embarrassment unconsciously made me apologise for things like ‘the house being too small’ or ‘there not being enough furniture’. Until one day Amy said, "You, shut up! This is my house and I won't be treated as a guest in my own house! It's small and has less furniture, but I love it!"
So what has Amy left behind? A few unfulfilled promises, some incomplete memories and a million possibilities of what life could’ve been with him. He said that he'd always be there even if no one was. He wanted me to accompany him to Furtados to buy himself a guitar so that he could learn and practice. We were to go to Goa and have a blast like old times. I had promised to spend more time with him than I had done the last time he had come home on holiday! As I desperately cling on to him and his memories, I realise that he couldn’t and cannot be a part of so many of them. He was the reason we got together and got to hang out with each other. And now I fear that his passing away may serve as a death sentence to whatever is left of a friendship that he, unknowingly, nurtured.
It seems so unfair that sometimes life doesn't give you a second chance. Why couldn’t this have been another near-death experience that would have jolted him into being a little more careful and a little less reckless? He deserved a chance at life, did he not? He wanted so much more out of life and he should have been allowed to chase all those dreams! Why then was he not given this chance? Why did he have to be taken away from us? Why?
I wonder what Amy would’ve said, if he could reply to these questions. I wonder if he thinks the same thing. I wonder if he wishes he could’ve spent more time with us, been a part of all our outings and meetings instead of being cast away at sea. I shudder to think of the events and people that may have flashed through his mind, as he lay battered and bruised by the road; before death came and claimed him.
Still I know that even in death, he will not go back on his word! And that whenever I’ll need him he’ll always be there, like he had promised! And though I’ll never be able to hold, hug or kiss him again; I know that from now on, every smile of mine will be his gift. I know that every stroke of luck will be him pulling the strings somewhere. I know that every time my friends and I meet up and interact, Amy’s going to be right there in our midst, in our minds and in our hearts.
Bro, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again –
- I love you
- You are the best bro in the whole world
Rest in peace.
