Eulogy for a dear friend

On that awful day in Oct 2014 when I got the news of Latha’s diagnosis, I knew several lives would no longer be the same, mine included. What I did not know was how much I would learn from my dear friend during those 10 months that followed. I saw someone who never for a moment drew attention to her condition or got emotional, but who continued along, business as usual, in the most practical and inspiring way. Who continued to joke and laugh over how she did not have time for all the potions she was being prescribed, who said “breast is best no?” (meaning a diagnosis of breast cancer would have been so much better) and who actually indulged others’ minor distresses – ie my sciatic pain or someone else’s headache. When I asked her once if she was not afraid– she returned “where is the time man? All I think about in this moment is if I should have green tea or dandelion tea”. One day on a more serious note she said to me “when I wake up at night and find myself wallowing in self-pity, I remember my dad telling me that it would do me no good and I stop”. Even as the disease progressed and her pain got worse, her humour and presence of mind never abated. One morning in July I asked her how she was feeling and here is her response verbatim “with the onslaught of the nuclear missiles of modern medicines like oxycodone and aleve I must say I am comparatively peachy. I even made curry yesterday. I am seriously considering becoming a drug addict. Forget the blessed tiger balm and what not. Whatcha doing?”

Latha did everything well. She was artistic, organised, incredibly clever and engaging, an amazing gardener, a fantastic cook, a great and loyal friend and above all a wonderful wife and mother. She was elegant, bubbly and expressive infusing any atmosphere with her exaggerated and funny facial and verbal expressions and her mirthful infectious laugh. But, she was by no means frivolous. She was very disciplined, ran a beautiful and well kept home, celebrated all festivals with gusto and reverence and raised her kids Neeraja and Prashant to speak Tamil, be kind, loving, affectionate, respectful and practical just like her. She was a wonderful companion and a pillar of strength to Sunder.

With her friends, she epitomised fierce loyalty. She had a wide circle through her personal and professional circles and also endeared herself to people easily, inviting newcomers to Canada, and people she had just met into her larger fold. She is the only one I know who had boundless capacity to maintain friendships over decades even with friends who have moved away.

Ask any one and they will tell you that she was their go to person for all kinds of information. When she sick in the hospital, I asked Sunder where I could get something and he turned to Latha and said “I don’t know but she does.” Alas she was unable to respond and selfishly I thought about how much I had taken her presence in our lives for granted.

Some things in life are incomprehensible. Why would such an amazing person who took such good care of her mind, body and spirit fall sick? Someone who ate right, practised yoga, exercised and always kept good cheer? Who had so much left to live for? Well we can only take comfort in her own words to me one morning in July “Baba says work off your karma and I will help you. Why carry over your karmas when you can finish it off in this birth. Be patient and I will help you.” It was probably not a coincidence that she died on Baba’s birthday and after all that she had faced so valiantly, she definitely had more wisdom than most.