A friend of mine passed away in February this year. Vicnesh was stricken with DMD and he passed away peacefully in his sleep one night. We visited his home and paid our respects to him.

His father showed us something Vicnesh wrote on a worksheet from one of the workshops he attended at TeachMe just a week before he passed away. On the worksheet, he was supposed to write down 3 wishes. This is what he wrote :

(1) To straighten my body. (this was canceled out and replaced by : To find a cure for DMD, all diseases and sicknesses)

I cannot remember what the other 2 wishes were exactly but I can remember exactly what I felt about it. My heart wrenched with pain when I saw that his initial wish was to have his body striaghtened (something ALL of us take for granted). And I was full of respect for him when I saw that he changed that wish into something as noble as a wish for a cure for all who suffer from DMD and other illnesses. For someone who has had a life less fortunate than ours in terms of physical capabilities and time, his selfless wishes put many of us to shame.

Vicneshes funeral the next day was a peaceful one. He was dressed handsomely and there were many beautiful garlands of flowers placed all around him. At Mt Vernon Crematorium, prayers were said and I witnessed an Indian funeral for the first time in my life. His father had to carry an earthen pot of water on his shoulder and he stood with his back facing the coffin. Another relative used a small hammer-like equipment to knock a tiny hole at the bottom of the earthen pot. As the water flowed out, his father walked around the coffin and the relative splashed the flow of water onto the coffin with his hands. After one round, a second hole was knocked and the ritual repeated. At the end of the third round, his father let go of the pot and it smashed into pieces behind him. He wepted uncontrollably as his relatives escorted him away and out of the hall. He was not supposed to look back.

I felt a huge lump on my throat as I saw all of that. It was so sad for his father to see him off like that. That smashing of the earthen pot seemed to signify the breaking of father-and-son ties as he bid farewell and walked away without looking back.

Vicnesh's friends were there to bid farewell to him. JieWee, Zulfauzi and Benjamin. Friends who were there took part in the ritual when there was a time where we were asked to just take a walk around the coffin, take our last look at him and say our goodbyes and prayers. When I went back to my seat at the bench, I saw the most heart-wrenching sight ever. JieWee, on his motorised wheelchair, went bravely forward towards the coffin and took one round around it. There was no way for him to see Vicnesh as he could not stand up and the coffin was placed on the high altar. He went slowly and my heart broke when I put myself in his shoes. To lose a good friend is painful enough. To know what one day your own friends will do this for you when you pass away too was so much more than pain. I cried.

What goes on in the minds of these young men who are stricken with DMD? How does it feel when your friend passes away from DMD? How does it feel to know that your clock is ticking away and it may stop anytime, without prior warning? Do these guys sit back and give up on themselves? No. They continue on.

It just dawned on me that all three of them were at the camp over this weekend. They have not let their handicap get the better of them. They have not let their friends' passing on take away their courage to face life with the little time they have left. These young men have a maturity of a level far greater than many of us. What would your reaction be when you know your time is very limited and your body gets weaker by the day?

We have much to learn from them.