In memory of my friend Binnu — the friend who held my hand through life, and whose absence taught me how heavy a life can become.

There are some questions that sound simple until life forces you to answer them.

“What is the kindest thing someone has ever done for you?”

I don’t have to think about it.

I don’t need to search through the pages of my life.

I don’t need to make a list.

I know the answer.

Someone became my friend.

His name was Binnu.

And perhaps the world would consider friendship an ordinary thing. People make friends every day. They meet in schools, colleges, offices, neighbourhoods and countless other places. Some friendships last for a few years, some for a few seasons, and some disappear quietly with time.

But Binnu’s friendship was different.

He did not merely become my friend.

He took responsibility for me.

And somehow, without making any announcement, without ever telling me that he was doing something extraordinary, he began carrying pieces of my life on his own shoulders.

We Were Only Children When It Began

Our friendship began in those innocent school days when neither of us knew much about life.

We were children.

We had no idea what responsibilities meant.

We didn’t understand the weight of circumstances, the cruelty of time, or how unpredictable the journey ahead could be.

We only knew how to laugh, fight, tease each other, make up and walk home together.

But somewhere along that journey, Binnu changed from being merely a school friend into something much bigger.

He became my strength.

He often thought about me in ways I couldn’t think about myself.

When I doubted myself, he didn’t.

When I couldn’t see a way forward, somehow he could.

When I was confused, he became the decision-maker.

When I was tired, he became the shoulder.

And when life became too difficult to carry, he simply picked up some of the weight.

He never made me feel that he was doing me a favour.

That is perhaps what made his kindness so extraordinary.

He Took Over My Problems Without Taking Over My Pride

There is a difference between helping someone and standing beside someone.

Many people will help you when you ask.

Some will help you when they see you struggling.

But very few people quietly begin considering your problems as their own.

Binnu was one of those rare people.

He took over my problems, my worries, my responsibilities and, in many ways, pieces of my life.

And he did it so naturally that sometimes I didn’t even realise how much he was doing.

Looking back today, I wonder:

How could someone who was himself so young carry so much for another person?

We were children when this began.

He himself was trying to understand life.

Yet somehow, he became the person who helped me navigate mine.

Perhaps friendship has no age.

Perhaps love doesn’t either.

Perhaps the heart simply recognises another heart and says:

“Don’t worry. I am here.”

Through the Good Days and the Bad Ones

Life did not always treat us kindly.

There were days of happiness, laughter and celebrations.

There were also days when everything seemed to collapse at once.

We sailed through both.

Sometimes together.

Sometimes silently.

Sometimes with laughter.

Sometimes with tears that neither of us wanted the other to see.

But we never let go of each other’s hands.

That became the unwritten promise of our friendship.

Whatever happens, we will get through it.

And somehow, we always did.

Until there came a time when life became so dark that even imagining the next morning felt difficult.

There were days when the question wasn’t:

“How will I solve this problem?”

It was simply:

“Will tomorrow come at all?”

And even then, Binnu was there.

He didn’t give me philosophical lectures.

He didn’t tell me that life was easy.

He simply stood beside me.

Sometimes that is all a person needs.

Not answers.

Not advice.

Just someone who refuses to leave.

He Thought I Deserved More Than I Thought I Did

One of the greatest gifts Binnu gave me was his belief in me.

He often thought of me as someone better, stronger and more capable than I thought myself to be.

Perhaps he saw something in me that I couldn’t see.

Perhaps that is what true friendship really is.

A true friend doesn’t merely see who you are.

He sees who you could become.

And Binnu always seemed to see that person.

When I looked at my failures, he looked at my possibilities.

When I saw a closed door, he searched for another entrance.

When I thought I had reached the end, he somehow convinced me there was still another road.

He became my confidence when mine disappeared.

My Family Was Never Outside His Circle

His kindness did not stop with me.

My family, my brothers — they too became indebted to him.

He did things that made our lives easier.

He stood with us.

He helped us.

He carried responsibilities that were not technically his.

But he never behaved as though he was doing something extraordinary.

For him, perhaps this was simply what friendship meant.

Today, when I look back, I realise something painful:

There are people who enter your family without ever becoming related to you by blood.

Binnu was one of them.

He was my friend by relationship.

But by affection, loyalty and responsibility, he became family.

And Then Came 2022

Some dates remain dates.

And there are dates that become wounds.

2022 became a wound in my life.

Binnu left.

All of a sudden.

He went to his heavenly abode, leaving behind a silence that I still don’t know how to describe.

Perhaps the hardest thing anyone has ever done to me was not something he consciously did.

It was something life did through him.

It took him away from me.

And for the first time, the person who had always helped me sail through the storms was no longer standing beside me.

I had spent years believing that whatever happened, we would somehow manage it together.

Then suddenly, I had to learn how to face the storms alone.

Life Continued. But It Changed

That is the strange cruelty of life.

The world doesn’t stop when someone you love leaves.

The sun rises the next morning.

People go to work.

Markets open.

Children go to school.

Trains run.

People laugh.

Festivals arrive.

Birthdays come and go.

Life insists on continuing.

And as a living being, I too have to continue walking until my last breath.

But I must confess something.

Life is no longer the same life it was when Binnu was with me.

I continue.

I breathe.

I smile.

I meet people.

I fulfil responsibilities.

I live.

But somewhere inside me there is an empty chair.

A hand I can no longer hold.

A voice I can no longer hear.

A friend I can no longer call.

Sometimes I Still Look for Him

There are moments when something happens, and instinctively I think:

“I should tell Binnu.”

And then reality returns.

He isn’t there.

That moment is perhaps the cruellest part of losing someone.

Not the funeral.

Not the final goodbye.

But all those ordinary moments afterwards when you forget for a second that they are gone.

You reach for the phone.

You remember something funny.

You want advice.

You want to share a worry.

You want to hear:

“Don’t worry, I’ll handle it.”

And then you remember.

There will be no call.

No answer.

No footsteps.

No familiar voice saying,

“I am here.”

But Was He Really Lost?

Perhaps not.

Because people like Binnu don’t completely disappear.

They leave behind pieces of themselves.

They live in memories.

They live in the courage they gave us.

They live in the decisions they helped us make.

They live in the people whose lives they touched.

They live in families they helped.

They live in the strength they left behind.

Every time I overcome a difficulty that once would have broken me, perhaps a little part of Binnu is still standing beside me.

Every time I think,

“I can manage this,”

perhaps it is his voice somewhere inside mine.

He taught me to sail through storms.

Now, even though he is no longer holding the other end of the boat, I still remember how he taught me to keep rowing.

The Kindest Thing Anyone Ever Did For Me

So, if someone asks me again:

“What is the kindest thing anyone has ever done for you?”

My answer will remain the same.

It wasn’t money.

It wasn’t a gift.

It wasn’t a favour.

It wasn’t a grand gesture.

Someone became my friend.

And then he spent a lifetime proving what that friendship meant.

He held my hand when I was weak.

He stood beside me when I was alone.

He carried responsibilities that weren’t his.

He believed in me when I couldn’t believe in myself.

He made life easier for me and my family.

He sailed with me through calm waters and terrible storms.

And when the storm became unbearable, he never let go.

Until life itself took his hand away from mine.

Dear Binnu, Wherever You Are…

If there is a world beyond this one, I hope you know something.

I hope you know that your friendship mattered.

It mattered more than I could ever tell you while you were here.

Perhaps I never thanked you enough.

Perhaps I never told you how much of my life was made easier simply because you existed.

Perhaps I assumed, like we all foolishly do with the people we love, that you would always be there.

That was my mistake.

We always think we have tomorrow.

Until someone doesn’t.

Today, I carry your memories with me.

I carry your lessons.

I carry your courage.

I carry the invisible strength you gave me.

And yes, I carry the pain of missing you.

But I don’t want my memories of you to be only tears.

I want to remember the laughter.

The school days.

The childish mischief.

The arguments.

The reconciliation.

The endless conversations.

The difficult days we survived.

The hands we held.

The storms we sailed through.

And that extraordinary feeling of knowing:

“Whatever happens, Binnu is there.”

Perhaps This Is What Friendship Really Means

A friend is not necessarily the person who has known you the longest.

A friend is the person who stays when staying becomes difficult.

The person who carries your burden without announcing it.

The person who believes in you when you have stopped believing in yourself.

The person who makes your problems smaller simply by standing beside you.

And sometimes, a friend becomes so much a part of your life that even death cannot completely separate you.

Binnu is gone.

But his friendship isn’t.

It is still somewhere between my memories and my breath.

And perhaps, until my own last breath, I will continue carrying that friendship with me.

Because some people leave this world.

But they never leave our lives.

A Final Prayer

Binnu, my friend…

Wherever you are, may you be surrounded by the peace you gave others.

May the Almighty bless your soul with eternal peace.

You carried me through some of the hardest roads of my life.

You made my journey easier.

You stood by me when I didn’t know whether the next day would come.

Now I must walk the remaining road without you.

I don’t know how long that road is.

I don’t know how difficult it will become.

But I know one thing.

I will keep walking.

Because somewhere inside me, the boy who once walked beside you is still alive.

And he still remembers your hand in his.

Thank you, Binnu.

For the friendship.

For the courage.

For the countless unseen sacrifices.

For my family.

For my brothers.

For every storm.

For every sunrise we managed to reach together.

And most of all—

thank you for making me believe that I was never alone.

You left this world in 2022.

But a friend like you does not really leave.

You remain — in every difficult day I survive, in every responsibility I carry, and in every moment when I quietly tell myself:

“Binnu would have wanted me to keep going.”

May your soul rest in eternal peace, my friend.

Until we meet again.