The Princes of Ayodhya-The Ramayan Through Short Stories

In Mourning

I checked my Wattpad account exactly ten minutes ago because I was inactive. I read my notifications. I had gotten something from Chandru. I read her announcement. Why could I have not checked earlier? Why hadn't I been there for my friend when she needed me? This is my fault. I should have been active. If I hadn't been so selfish, I could have helped. 

To my dear Laksh, the one and only Chandru: I hope this is a joke, just another hilarious prank. This is not hilarious. Wherever you are, I hope you eternally reside in peace, joking around and being sassy, writing long comments and reading and writing to your heart's content. I hope you're surrounded by positivity and friends better than could be, free of the horrors of the world.

 I hope, Chandru, that you have found your Urmila and can now write Meanwhile in Vaikunth (and hopefully feature my cover too!).

 If this is real, please rest in peace. You'll be missed, but not as someone who has passed. As someone who lived life to the fullest. And made mine brighter too.