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And friends one by one died like a fallen soldier.
But even a fallen soldier will be ceremonially remembered.
No, it is not happening to the two LGBTQI friends of mine. They just passed away in two separate parts of the world. In fact, no one knew the end of their existence. Their deaths are heard through the wind of rumours. The wind is blowing through Facebook posts, status and messenger.
No one came forward, made a call, gave a visit. Their friends never checked them out if they were okay. They only assumed that you were fine by regular likes, and occasional one-liner responds on Facebook. While behind the walls of their house, they were battling terminal illness alone. Unknown to any one of us what they were facing. Unmirroring glamourous holiday lives of Facebook and Instagram, their pains were silence of endless agonies. A few days have gone by since their death.
Then tributes are paid on a Facebook status. Their deaths have become digital. We didn't see bodies for the last time. We didn't pay a visit to their funeral. We didn't see a coffin brought down to the eternal void. We didn't see it buried or cremated. We didn't touch the tomb standing on fresh dug soil. We didn't carry a pot of their ashes. We didn't shed tears and shared their memorials in the house.
