The news hit me like a ton of bricks. Just a few days ago, my mom joked how she explained COVID-19 to Karthik—that there are invisible germs everywhere, which is why they could not see him. He had asked why couldn't everyone use soap to get rid of them. She laughed at how he pronounced it: "Karo-na". Two days later, on Monday, July 13, at 9:30 PM, he was gone.

He was the first grandchild in our family. When he was three years old, he was diagnosed as 'mentally challenged'. Until now, we don't know the exact cause or diagnosis. He couldn't speak or walk until he was five. But, he was quite expressive through other ways. He was very protective of me—his little sister. If anyone raised their voice at me, he would get angry and lash out. His birth name was Somnath. The moment he could speak, he changed it to Karthik (after seeing actor Karthik's movies)—something that astonishes me even now.

It was not easy for us as a family to take care of him, especially as he was growing up. He went missing as a child three separate times—one time he was gone for 24 hours. Each time, we had good souls who recognized him and brought him home. When we realized it was hard for us to look after him, we found a special resident school. I still remember the day we left him there. He was ten years old, and was in complete shock, and was yelling and crying as we left. I was too young to understand what was happening, but I saw my parents cry so much in the autorickshaw that day.

I always whine about how life was not easy for us. But, life was brutal for him. He was living in a group home with 30-35 people with poor quality of life and rigid schedule his entire life. He had to swallow countless pills everyday. He was continuously disciplined. Despite all that was thrown onto him, he always found a way to be happy. You can never find a picture where he doesn't smile.

He loved looking at pictures. He always carried family photos with him. His superpower was his memory. He remembered everyone he met. He even remembered the color of the salt container in our grandparents' place.

He loved listening to stories from dad. Even though he heard them a million times. He would tell them along with him and laugh every time at the punch line as if he heard that for the first time.

He loved drinking tea. And he would insist that the guests should drink too. He loved having guests and talking to them. He remembered everyone who was kind to him.

He loved going out. He had his favorite spots: boating in Muttukadu, a temple near his school where the priests gave him God's garlands after puja, Children's park, and Anna Nagar Tower.

He was the opposite of me. He did not overthink. He was not ambitious. He did not complicate life. His desires were simple—to be with family.

That was his final wish in the last couple of his months. He even learned to do video calls. He asked if he could come home repeatedly and got the response that he could not because of some 'mysterious germs'. It kills me to know that this is how he left us and the world.

You deserved better. From me, from us and from the world. You will forever live in our hearts.