Dear Bob,

Posted on May 13, 2010


I remember the first time I met you. It was less than 2 weeks ago, when I was visiting San Francisco. At around 10PM, a few of us were walking up Valencia Street when I saw Deep and you biking down the street, blaring loud, pumping music. I was very amused! Palak and I hollered out, and you stopped. She introduced us. I remember how sweetly you smiled at me.

And then the second time we met, you were sitting sprawled on a sofa at Deep’s and watching Avatar. When Palak was introducing me to everyone else, you said, “We’ve met!” It was a wonderful evening, wasn’t it? The movie, friends, Indian-touch pizzas and cream sodas.

When I look at your picture now, I wonder what kind of man you really were! I see your funny prank-y pictures – some where you’re smiling mysteriously, some where you were singing passionately into a mike, some of you and your friends. If I were to choose one word that came to my mind when I think about you (as a person who’s said 3 sentences to you), it would be “easygoing”. And I must say, you didn’t look your age. At all. I would have said 35 tops. I was pleasantly surprised to know that you were born in 1962.

And this morning when I heard that you killed yourself, I was stumped, shocked and then overcome by a grave sadness. It paralysed me for several hours.In spite of telling myself that it doesn’t matter why you did it, I kept thinking about it for a long time. Bob, I just wanted to tell you, that I didn’t know you, but your choice affected me.



Henri, the stranger.

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