And, in the one space that wasn’t taken up by coloured paper covered in Jai’s distinctive handwriting, a folded-up piece of paper stuck to the thicker card page. Curious, I carefully peeled back the tape and unfolded the page, seeing that Jai had copied out the rest of the bucket list, all the things we hadn’t done yet, having changed the order a bit, presumably into the order he figured we’d attempt them in.
I looked over the list, remembering when I’d first written it out, the lack of thought I’d put into practicality and probability. It seemed like a lifetime ago, in a time when these things were the only things I wanted.
I turned the paper over, hoping to see one of Jai’s random doodles, only to find a different list. My forehead creased in confusion as I read it over, not really able to understand what it was for the few seconds it took me to process.
And then, in the span of a few milliseconds, it became clear that this was another bucket list, Jai’s bucket list. And there at the top of the list was written:
Finish Li’s List.
I couldn’t help but laugh at how typically Jai that was, to make my entire list a part of his with just one line.
But the laugh cut off fairly quickly, catching up to myself after a moment as I realised that that one sentence meant so much more than it seemed to. It didn’t just mean he’d help me to finish my bucket list but that, even if I wasn’t around to do it, he’d do it for me.
That realisation did what months of talking myself through the depression and grief had failed to do; it jolted me back to reality, to life really.
Because, like I’d told Jai so many months ago, I was alive – walking, talking and breathing – but I wasn’t really living, hadn’t been for a year now.
And, in that moment, I made the decision to live again, to do what Jai would’ve done had the roles been reversed.
I’d go back to doing what we’d been doing before. I’d finish off my bucket list and then I’d finish of Jai’s too. And, when I’d finished with those, I’d keep going, find more things that I wanted to do.
I’d keep going, keep living. Because that’s what Jai would’ve done, what he’d want me to do.
And because life doesn’t stop, not for anything. People die, they leave, but life keeps going, it always keeps going. Even if you get to feeling like you’re done with it, like there’s not really any reason to keep going, you have to. You find one reason after another to keep going, to stay alive. And, one day, you don’t need to keep looking for new reasons, you simply start living again, truly enjoying things again, loving life again.
And, while we may never forget all the things that’ve happened, and we definitely never forget the people we’ve loved, the ones who’ve left us, we keep going in spite of it all. Because of it all.
Because life can be a mess, a shithole really sometimes. But without the mess, the pain, the heartache and devastation, there’s no point in the other stuff, the happiness and joy and love.
You’ve gotta go through the bad to get to the good, as cliché as that might sound. And, when you do, the happiness feels that much brighter.
It’s a simple truth really, the simplest truth in the world. But it’s the hardest lesson to learn.
I speak from experience when I say it takes time to learn it. It took me the longest time, even after I came to the decision to start living again. In the beginning, it hurt worse than just about anything else I’d ever experienced. To go and continue on like I’d intended to, like we’d intended to. To do it alone.
But, like I said, eventually, you remember how to get on with things, how to enjoy things again, maybe a little more than before.
And, really, that makes it all worth it in the end.
Epilogue
It’s been twenty-five years and still I’ve not forgotten him. Twenty-five years of sadness and happiness, joy and pain, love and loss, smiles and tears and, through it all, I’ve not once forgotten him.
Some days I think of him less, some days I think of him more.
And, on this of all days, I think of him most of all.
As I do every year on his birthday, I go to the cemetery alone, navigating through the rows following a path I know by heart. The words on the headstone aren’t nearly as clear as they were on the day it was laid but I know what it says; after all, I’m the one who decided on the inscription. And, in the many years since, I’ve read them so many times that, sometimes, I can see them with my eyes closed.
Jaival Ryan Edmonds
8th March 1999 – 4th December 2017
Beloved son, brother, uncle and, above all, friend.
A soul to pure for words to describe.
I smile at the words, kneeling to pull out the few weeds that have grown in the few weeks since the last time I’d visited – though I hadn’t been alone that time.
Once I’ve pulled the last of the stubborn weeds from the soil, I lay the flowers I’d brought by the headstone and sit on the empty patch of grass beside the grave. ‘Zia had her baby today, a little baby boy,’ I say, seemingly talking to the air but I know that Jai’s out there somewhere, listening; that he can hear every word. ‘She named him Jai.’
Glossary
Ane tame bhi kain na kidhu? – And you didn’t tell us anything either?
Apre paas toh che. Taro paisa vaprwanu kai jaroor nati. – We have it, there’s no need to use your money
Arre, aste ja jo! Padi jawano cho tu! – Go slowly! You’ll fall!
Avija tu – Come on
Badhai ne jowa jawanu tari faraj tye – It’s your duty to go see everyone
Betta – Child
Betta, utigay tu? – Child, you’re up?
Bhabhi – Elder brother’s wife
Bhaiya/bhai – Elder brother
Chalein? – Shall we?
Chal, zyada senti maat ho – Come on, don’t get so emotional
Chal, joothi – Come on, liar
Chalo – Come on
Chalo, ghar jaye ame – Come on, let’s go home
College ma rayne su karwanu mumma? Results layne rasra ramwanu? – Stay at college and do what? Dance with the results?
Dada – paternal grandfather
Dadi – paternal grandmother
Dher – husband’s younger brother
Dherani – husband’s younger brother’s wife
Didi – elder sister
Ee toh sachi vaat che – That’s right
Ek vaat kou tane? – Can I tell you something?
Fui – Paternal aunt (specifically dad’s sister)
Haan – yes
Haan tumara hak che pun enu bhi che ne? – Yes, it’s your right but it’s hers too, right?
Hatt – move
Hun jayne doctor ne kayow ke tu utigay? – Shall I go and tell the doctor you’re awake.
Hun kaink khotu toh na kidhu – I didn’t say anything wrong
Ja, bagh – Go, run
Jaldi se – quickly
Ji – yes
Kaam awse – it’ll come in handy
Kem, su tyu? – Why, what happened?
Kobr je tu – Just you wait
Kobru chu – I’m waiting
Kyaare? Sena matte? – When? What for?
Le, paani pija – Here, drink some water.
Ma ka haath ka khana – food made by mum’s hand
Mama – maternal uncle (specifically mum’s brother)
Mami – mum’s brother’s wife
Nahi – no
Nahi betta – no child
Paani puri – an Indian snack food
Pagli – crazy
Paisa nahi vapru toh su karu? – If I don’t spend the money, what will I do?
Results saathe biju su karwanu? – What else do you do with results?
Saasta maal che ane aya toh badai dukaan ma maleche… - The stuff is cheap and all the shops round here sell it
Saathe toh nah leyjavay ne? – I won’t be able to take it with me, will I?
Sachi ne – Honestly
; Seyri nu rus – sugarcane juice
Su karwani cho tu? – What’re you going to do?
Su, tane evitna na laygu ke amne janavo joye? Ki aapri beti ni tabyaat etli karaab che? – Didn’t you think you should tell us? That our daughter’s health was so bad?
Su tyu ene? Kem ee aya na ayvo? Ene thik toh che na? – What happened to him? Why didn’t he come? He’s alright right?
Suraj Hua Maddham – a song title, literally translated to the sun sets
Teh kaink kotu toh na kidhu – You didn’t say anything wrong
Tike che – Alright
Tike che, awuchu humra – Alright, I’ll be right back.
Toh pachi hun kevitna kou tamne? – Then how could I tell you?
Tu bhi maro betta cho – you’re my kid too
Tu ek raat matte hospital ma hathi – you were in the hospital for one night
Tu mane mukhi ne haylijawanu cho – You’re going to leave me behind and go
Tu maru haath nu maar kawanu cho aaje – I’m going to hit you today
Tane nimak na jotuhoi kawanu ma toh pota nu banow – If you don’t want salt in your food, make it yourself.
Tu utigay – you’re up
Vaat – talk
Vaise – anyway
Yaad che – I remember
Zia toh mari puchri taygyuche aaje – Zia’s become like my tail today.
Acknowledgments
When I was about six years old, I decided I wanted to write a story. I’d been given this notebook – it was a spiral bound book with a purple hardcover, I still remember. And I’d stuck a picture of a book on the front. Inside it, I’d started writing a story based on this game I used to play with my friends on the playground, The Chronicles of Candlyand it was called. I was determined to write it, to finish it, to be a writer. Now, I’m not sure I even know where that book is anymore; it got lost somewhere in all the times I’ve had to move. But, regardless of that, writing stayed with me. And now, instead of just that one purple book with half its pages torn out, I have a shelf full of notebooks – and then some. But this book is the most important to me. Because this is the first one I was ever really serious about.
I started writing this book when I was sixteen. Now, nearly six years later, it’s finally finished. And I couldn’t have done it without my best friends. Klaudia, who’s heard me talk about this book since the beginning, listened to all the ideas I’ve had for it and was one of the first to ever read it any of it. Angel, who’s seen the sneak peaks, helped me flesh out parts and is always there to compete in evilness with me. And Tanvi, who’s heard me talk about this – and a great deal of other stories – constantly and who made the very first cover for this book back when it was nothing more than a few, non-beta’d, unedited chapters on Wattpad.
To all the people on Wattpad who’ve read my stories and my one shots, voted and commented. You’ve all stuck with me through all the times I’ve pretty much dropped off the face of the earth, waited for updates and given me the boost, the confidence, I needed to finish this story.
To all the authors who’s books I’ve devoured over the years. The ones who have lifted me up out of my darkest spaces. Because they are the ones who made me realise the power behind words. They made me realise that there’s no better medicine for your soul than having a good book. They helped me when I was down; their characters became my best friends when I had nobody, my constant companions. And, to this day, I never feel more at home than when I am lost in those worlds. And I hope that I’ve managed to do something that maybe even comes a little close to that, even if it’s just for one person.
And, finally, to all the people who have heard me go on and on and on about this story. To the people who listened to the ideas and didn’t tell me I was annoying them or that I couldn’t do it. To the people who told me that I could, the ones who encouraged me and said, with all honesty, that they couldn’t wait to read it. My mum, my sister, my uni friends who endured my babble on those Friday afternoons. And, most importantly, my little lion cub – who probably isn’t going to read this book for a very long time but is one of the biggest inspirations I’ve ever had.
Thank you, to all of you.
I really couldn’t have made it here without you.
Bucket Lists
Have a Heart Page 22
