Till Death do us part...

I heard about it yesterday. He was travelling from Bangalore to another town in an autorickshaw. A truck hit them at an intersection. He and his friend died. He was 24.

I didnt like him much when I was at school with him. He wasnt my kind of person, and I wasnt his kind. It wasnt hatred, it wasnt indifference. It was that malicious feeling in between, when you almost feel happy when he gets snubbed, when you smirk when he loses the election (he lost the hostel elections to a friend of mine), when you shake your head in disgust when you see his success. We even had an open confrontation once. About what, I dont remember. It wasnt very important I guess. At the time, it must have been important, why else would I fight with someone.

I heard about it yesterday morning from a friend. At first, I didnt remember his name. My roommate (who also went to the same school as I) reminded me who he was. It really didnt sink in until a few minutes later. I felt numb, thinking about it. I wondered if malice was really worth it. He isnt alive anymore, and all the ill-will seemed so childish, all the differences trivial, all our fights petty.

People say 'till Death do us part'. I wonder if that is true. Death doesnt part people, death brings them closer together. At what cost, I wonder ...