Work Text:
Dear Shrey, It's a weird feeling knowing that you're gone only hours after you last sent me a text. And meeting you, will forever be a dream, long folded and dusting in the corner of my mind palace.
Everything's quite blurry in my head, I never knew the exact point in time, the moment that we clicked together and knew that we'd be good friends. We just did, somehow. Maybe because our love or Sherlock, and later on, for Doctor Who, especially the 11th incarnation. The countless times you chose me as someone to talk to, as someone to share your worries and your rants, that will always be an honor in my part.
Shrey, you love cheesy and romantic stuff, and you love the things that are sad, that are done out of pure feelings, and not just attention seeking. Here's one of them. You're gone, and this letter is a shout, into the oblivion that now enfolds you. You won't get to read or go crazy over how sad this letter is, you won't even get to read it. Heck, you won't even know that I wrote you a letter. You have made yourself a part of many lives, many people's memories, with your silliness, goofiness, but above all, your sincerity. And that will live on with us, as your legacy, even though you're gone, throughout our lives.
Life's short, Shrey. You've only gotten past the bitter, hellish teenage years, and you're only starting to bloom. And what a beautiful flower you would have become. But the memories you left us will always be cherished, and nothing could ever change that. Nothing could ever change the times we spent, the words we exchanged, the laughter we shared. I still remember our study calls, and the little conversations we would have during and after them. I still remember that time we talked till 3am without even noticing the time. All the good times.
Shrey, you were a good friend. We weren't the closest of friends, but even then you were a great friend. All the jokes you made when I was feeling under the weather, to try and make me feel better. It's too late now, but I wish I knew you better. I wished I listened more, and pick up your every calls. I wish I talked to you before you went away.
But regret won't change a thing. It won't give us a second chance to have someone as decent as you back. And I wish that I'd get a message in the morning, to say that it's all a prank and you're still healthy and alive. And yet here we are, your online friends, everyone who you touched, writing our own eulogies for a Shrey Janardan. Our Shrey Janardan.
Goodbyes have never really been my thing. It's tiring, and awful, and exhausting. But this is our goodbye, because your path ends here. And Shrey, I wish that I could give you a pat on the back and tell you that you've made so many people happy, that you gave so many comfort, and you were one of the best friends that we could have ever asked for. I wish to tell you that you've made an impact on us, that you didn't live without a purpose. Thank you.
But now it's time for us to part,
even if it aches here in my heart.
The times we had, I won't forget;
I'll cherish them, with no regret.
Shubh ratri, Shrey.
"Raggedy man, goodnight." - Amelia Pond
Jakarta,
01:28, 08-06-2022