Last night I had the unfortunate news that one of the members of community in my home town had died after being ill for a short time. It sort of puts life in perspective. I grew up with his son, knew his daughter from Varsity and I remember my friend's dad at school. In fact most of the small city we lived in knew him and loved him and his passing just made everyone just stop.
You expect people to love forever. We know no one will live forever but we never expect death. Even the old man from Naran's in Grahamstown died recently in a tragic fire. If you smoked hooka in Grahamstown, you'd remember him. he lived down the street from my old house and where an old girlfriend used to live. If you partied at the "Vic" you'd remember him. If you knew the Tin Roof Blues, you'll know the place.
I realised I am getting old. People are dieing. And then you look at how old they are and you wonder, where all the time went? How much time do we waste with considering the mundane? How many of them didn't expect it and how many times, almost cliched do people say "if only".
RIP Dr. Khandoo.