It’s been four days since Shakti left us. I am slowly trying to accept it, but I still cry. I am also unable to control my emotions as I am writing this. I never expected to write something like this, but I think this will help. I am still unsure of how I can process this grief. I have never felt this hopeless. Shakti left us on 8th May, a couple of days before I turned 24. He was hospitalized for the last couple of weeks, where he showed signs of improvement, and I always knew that he would recover, but unfortunately, he couldn’t. I don’t even know whom I should blame, or should I even blame someone? One thing I am very sure about is that he shouldn’t have been taken from us. This is very unfair.
I first met Shakti in 2016, but we became close friends in the past couple of years. I’m unsure where to start while talking about him. He was undoubtedly the kindest, optimistic, and most ambitious person I knew of. He was someone who would do the absolute best for his family and friends and would go way out of his way to find help if needed. He never shied away from discussing hard things, even if it meant saying something you wouldn’t want to hear, and he would do that with a joke and a wry smile or on a walk to drink tea.
I’m also very opinionated, sometimes full of myself, and often unkind, but he never lost his cool even if you were harsh. He assumed that people are good. He has always been forgiving and always understood where the other person came from. You couldn’t just stop him from helping people. Anyone who reached out to him, he made sure that he responded. Many of us know him through his work at Devfolio, Fold, InOut, and of course, evangelising for crypto, but he was also into a lot of different things. We used to have these long chats at odd hours every other week discussing our personal and work interests. He would always want to know more about my opinions, be it politics, football (he knew shit about it), my idols, or my work at Clarisights, and that’s what I most appreciated about him — his never-ending curiosity. We often discussed politics, and he was even optimistic about our country. He hoped that the people would again rise and defend our country’s democratic rights — I hope we do.
We always were able to relate to our hustles, too, maybe because of our humble backgrounds. We also liked similar people, and now whenever I think about him, I think about these people. He was also always thankful to all the people who supported him - his family, friends, or colleagues who were his closest friends. He was, of course, anxious, every founder is, but he worked towards it. We often talked about working together someday and building something that everyone would appreciate. Both of us also knew that we would work together at some point in our lives.
I think these are the situations when you start questioning your life? Like if there’s a reason that you were born? or if this is how you would have wanted to lead your life? or if this is what you want to do? I don’t know. I am unsure. I am only sure about one thing right now that a good human being is no more, and it’s unfair. I can’t wait to see you, my man. If there’s any God, I am sure she will welcome you with open hands, and when and if you meet her, please do tell good things about me. Hoping you’re there somewhere, brother. Miss you.