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He was, as simple as quantum physics.”

What was he like?
He was, as simple as quantum physics, he’d often say.
He could made you feel like you were crazy, and like he was crazy, but he also made you feel like you were genius, maybe because he was a genius.
I never dared to make sense of what made him; him, and quite frankly, he didn’t care about the opinions of this world, maybe not even mine. It was mediocrity that affected him, and that’s probably why he created sheer magic in everything he did. It’s like he celebrated his work, and we celebrated his brilliance. As he’d pour his heart and soul into whatever he’d pick up, he would remind me that it’s about quality, not vanity; never vanity.

He made his life more than just his career, and his accomplishments were multifold- he’d read Sartre, idiolise Nietzsche, study astronomy, learn stoicism. He could play the guitar, practise prose, write with his left hand and his right. He’d invest his time and his money in charities, or in science projects, or in innovations that were beyond the comprehension of both, you and me. Music, culture, art, stars, poetry, books, he gave them all to me, he gave me memories. His intelligence was beyond belief and yet he was the kind of person that touched every life he ever crossed paths with. Knowing him was loving him.

Was he whimsical? God, he’d turn his phone off and leave to fish or farm or whatever he’d fancy that week. He’d walk out of award parties, if he was bored, even if his own award hadn’t been called out yet. He wasn’t afraid to burn down metaphorical bridges that needed to be set on fire, and to use them to light his way.
He said he wasn’t made for this rat race, and i agreed because he already had his own kingdom. He was my fighter, smiling, as he broke every rule and made his own place in the sun. Happy being the outsider, never demanding to be let in into this society. No, he wasn’t shunned, he just rejected your lobbies, your small talk, and all the fake friends. You had to be so much more than a bloody trophy to hold his attention.
He taught me to care about saving the world, he made me want to go to Mars myself, he became my Mozart, a force of nature itself, my best friend.
If you couldn’t see him for what he really was, you might as well dont because he’s was just too good for you all.

inspiration: rohini iyer #justice4ssr

4 thoughts on “#lifeafterloss

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