I am Radhika, Ashish’s aunt. I first met Ashish when he was barely a few months old. He looked like a miniature smiley edition of his dad, and even at that age, there was an air of sweet calmness around him. In the years that followed, it was always wonderful to hear of his extraordinary achievements all throughout his school and university years, and then about his work, first with computer science, and then research in the field of  Brain Cancer.

Ashish’s infectious smile and warmth were enduring, and his joie de vivre could fill up the room.

Hearing of Ashish illness was a bolt from the blue. Ashish, however, continued to show remarkable lifeforce and fortitude through that extremely challenging time. In our two years of exchanges over messages, Ashish did not once complain about the unfairness of life, or about the prolonged physical or emotional suffering.

He enjoyed seeing photographs I would send him every week, and I enjoyed seeing the quirky transformation he created with his edits. We often exchanged book recommendations. Some of the books that I remember him really enjoying are The Midnight Library, 7 Moons of the Maali Almeida, A Man Called Ove, and Tara West’s Educated: A Memoir. When I thanked him for the recommendation for the last one, he answered with a couple of smileys: “It’s a bribe to get you to send me some more of your interesting photos.”

He shared travel stories in what I came to know as typically Ashish humor:  subtle and understated, with great timing. Ashish looked forward to getting better soon and getting on with traveling. He was sure he was getting better. Losing him was a shock, a huge loss. He went too soon, too young, leaving behind so many memories to remember him by.