Tarun: The Youngest Musketeer

Tarun

In June1978,I was based in Jamnagar for a training.While our family was visiting Dwarka, we ventured for a dip in the sea. Soon my two younger brothers found themselves struggling in deep seawater. With limited swimming ability and help from two locals, we managed to pull them to safety. It was a frightening experience, but we all returned home together. 

Swimming in Dwarka just before the incident

Looking back now, that incident feels symbolic of how precious and fragile life can be. My youngest brother, Tarun, left us last year, and with him disappeared a part of our world that can never be recreated. Time may soften the sharp edges of grief, but it cannot diminish the memories, the affection, and the countless moments that made him such an integral part of our lives.

Tarun on extreme right, with our mother

In our childhood, the three of us brothers were known as "The Three Musketeers." Family, friends, neighbours, and even teachers referred to us by that title because wherever one of us was found, the other two were never far behind. We were inseparable partners in adventure, mischief, and endless schemes that rarely escaped notice. Looking back, those years seem wrapped in sunshine and laughter

Tarun on extreme left, self and Bakul

Our days revolved around games. Cricket matches in narrow lanes often ended with shattered windowpanes and hurried retreats before angry homeowners emerged to identify the culprits. We spent hours playing hide-and-seek, kabaddi, Gulli Danda, Latto (Top)and marbles with neighbourhood friends. Every vacant plot became a playground, every tree a fortress, and every evening an opportunity for yet another adventure. Tarun would enthusiastically help in building effigy of Ravan with Bamboo sticks and newspapers on Dusshera, make ‘Anars’ for Diwali by purchasing the raw material in Paharganj and fill ballons with water and throw at unsuspecting taxi drivers at the nearby taxi stand on Holi. He, being the youngest, was often the most enthusiastic participant, throwing himself wholeheartedly into every game or activity like creating string of electric lights to be ready for illumination on Diwali.

School offered no respite from our antics. The stories are too many to recount fully, but they remain some of the fondest memories of our growing years. There were practical jokes, harmless pranks, and countless moments when we struggled to suppress laughter during the most inappropriate situations. One of the schoolteachers gave him an acronym- The Angry Rat of United Nations ‘(TARUN). We teased one another mercilessly. On one occasion Bakul, my younger sibling inadvertently punched him on his face and lo and behold the two front teeth needed to be fixed by the doctor. The doctor’s observation as ‘loose teeth’ became ‘horse teeth’ for our interpretation to make fun in future. He could mimic almost every relative to perfection. My younger brothers had a huge resemblance in early years to the extent that while renewing the Bus Pass of DTC during college years they were reprimanded by college official for using the same picture twice! After physical identification only was the issue resolved. Even today, recalling some of those incidents brings spontaneous laughter, followed immediately by a pang of longing for the brother who shared them

As we grew older, our interests evolved, but our companionship remained unchanged. One of our greatest pleasures was watching movies together. We travelled through history with "The Bridge on the River Kwai," sang along with "The Sound of Music," enjoyed the infectious energy of "ABBA – The Movie," and, like millions of Indians, never tired of revisiting the immortal "Sholay." He had memorized most of the dialogues of ‘Sholay’. Those films were more an entertainment; they became shared experiences, generating endless conversations, debates, jokes, and memories that strengthened our bond over the years.

Tarun on extreme left, Bakul(Centre) and self

Tarun possessed qualities that endeared him to everyone he met. He was a gifted cook who could transform a simple meal into an occasion. He loved music and dance and could light up any gathering with his enthusiasm and energy. Ever willing to help, he assisted Bakul and pushed him to seek an interview with his prospective employer that  eventually converted into a job! Above all, he was a remarkable conversationalist. Few people possess the ability to connect effortlessly with others regardless of age, but Tarun did so naturally. Whether speaking with a child barely six months old, an energetic teenager, a busy professional, or an eighty-year-old elder, he made each person feel valued and heard. Friendship came easily to him because warmth radiated from his personality.

There are endless stories I could narrate about Tarun. Each memory leads to another, and each anecdote reveals a different facet of the man he became. His kindness, humour, generosity, and zest for life touched everyone fortunate enough to know him. No single article can capture the fullness of his character or the richness of the life he lived

And yet, perhaps that is the measure of a life well lived. Tarun remains present in every shared memory, every family story, every old photograph, and every burst of laughter triggered by some forgotten incident from long ago. His last meeting was an year ago at our place where he had come to attend a puja.Though he is no longer with us in person, he continues to live in our hearts—as our youngest brother, our fellow Musketeer, our companion in adventure, and a cherished part of who we are Some bonds are stronger than time, and some memories are stronger than loss. Tarun's is one such memory that will now continue to shine in heaven.

PS-Memories from my collection of picture