Book Review: When Grief Becomes Hope, A Father Remembers

Forgetting is also an act of remembering. It is deliberate. It is forced. It is intentional. It is a small act of defiance against the unbearable weight of memories painstakingly collected over 20 years. Memories stacked one atop another, yet collapsing like a pack of cards each time the mind tries to put them away.

That is what my former colleague and senior journalist, Shyamlal Yadav, and his family have been living through since Shreeti left everything that beckoned her, regaled her, and enticed her to stay only to journey someplace else, far, far away from all mundanities two years ago.

She fought valiantly, like a warrior, for five long days against fatal liver failure, only to be consumed by it eventually. She left behind a bereaved family, friends, and countless people who knew her and others who came to know her only through the aftermath of her passing.

Her life was abruptly cut short, much like Tessa’s in Before I Die by Jenny Downham, the very book her father found on her bedside table. The suddenness of this tragedy feels orchestrated by a cosmic force that leaves everyone who knew her plunged into unspeakable grief.

Who goes this way? Leaving everything unfinished, unseen, unsaid, unknown.

Shreeti did. 

Published by Prabhat Prakashan, Shreeti: A Light That Still Shines is a cathartic reading experience for anyone who has grappled with the unexpected loss of a loved one, whether recent or long ago. It may not lessen the pain, but it offers the tiniest glimmer of resilience. This 184-page book serves as a heartfelt tribute, reminding us that grief, while deeply personal, is also a universal experience that connects us all in remembrance and hope.

One of the most moving references to her father’s irreparable loss has been aptly summed up by Chandra Bhushan Singh, a close family friend, who quotes, “kanya pituh priyam hridayam” (daughter is the dearest to her father’s heart). He again invokes the ancient manuscripts and quotes, and I write, “that when father and daughter share a plate, the father escapes untimely death. In some mysterious ways, she grants her father immortality. Yet no verse speaks of saving the daughter. Perhaps, the sages never dreamt of such a grief.”

In his own way, Prof Anoop Saraya, then head of department at AIIMS and now with the Institute of Liver and Biliary Sciences, offers a medical overview that underscores the importance of recognising symptoms early, inspiring hope that awareness can save lives like Shreeti's.     

This book celebrates a young girl many of us never met, yet somehow came to know through the tender posts of her father, who introduced her love and light, his Shreeti to his social media family with such affection that it makes one wonder: What if she had lived?

She would have excelled. She would have soared. She would have been an epitome of brilliance.

She was vivacious, compassionate, empathetic, and a true livewire, qualities that inspire admiration and warmth in those who remember her, as her teachers, mentors, and neighbours fondly recall.

As her father’s former colleague, Md Waqas cites Urdu poet Zauk, and writes,

Phool to do din bahaar-e-jaan-fazaa dikhla gaye,

Hasrat un ghunchon pe hai jo bin khile murjhaa gaye.

(“Flowers bloomed for just a couple of days, bringing joy and fragrance to the soul. But my longing is for those buds that withered away before they could ever blossom.”)

Through this book, she becomes a light that continues to shine, inspiring us to find hope and strength amid loss. It encourages us to cherish the memories that keep her alive in our hearts, reminding everyone that grief is a shared journey, and remembrance can be a source of comfort and resilience for all who mourn. 

Shillpi A Singh is an award-winning communications professional, independent journalist and translator.