For the past few months, our house has undergone some major and minor alterations. We moved out for a couple of months and then back again, living out of a suitcase most of the time. Sometimes it has felt like being unwanted guests living in a spare room in our own house, getting in the way of the builders while they want to get on with the work.

Last week they finally left. We got our home back, filled with stacks of boxes, a persistent layer of dust on every available surface and the unmistakable stink of paint. We set today’s date for having a few friends over for a home-cooked Indian meal and having a priest perform a small prayer service to bless the house as is customary.

Saagar’s closest friends came over. One of them, a medical student proudly showed me the picture of his first publication. Another, a budding golfer shared his excitement over his upcoming summer job at one of the best golf courses in California. Another, an amateur actress spoke at length about the series of theatre workshops she conducted last summer as part of the Rickshaw Theatre Project for kids in India and how amazing that was, having known Saagar and his pride in his heritage.

Its silly to say I missed Saagar. Of course I did but I feel him in my heart all the time. I see him in all his friends, in their proud achievements and simple joys. When all of us who love him dearly are together, he can’t be too far away. In his own words, he is a bit of a (cha)party animal after all. Love you darling. xxx