Mili lived life on her own: like a butterfly, independent and break free. Money was in abundance, thanks to her parent’s medical profession.

I met her at a friend’s party in Delhi, I guess in Lado Sarai barsaati(rooftop). I was impressed by her confidence, and it was she, not weed or alcohol. She told me her educational background did no justice to her. She is on a path of seeking self-knowledge. I was too drunk to make sense of it. I was worried about work. I was on my first job and, money was limited.

Next month our friend’s group went to Kasauli for a trip, and Mili was part of it. Her new hobby: Yoga and mindfulness. After a late-night drinking session, we had to wake up at 5 for her session and sleep late till the afternoon.

I moved out of Delhi in 2011 and lost touch with everyone. The treadmill of capitalism and social media self gloating leaves very little time for real friends.

Last week I heard that Mili is no more. She passed away, and the reason being a drug overdose. There were half a dozen cats around her in those last minutes.

In 2016 her parents got killed in a car accident, and she was all on her own. A few years later, she married a struggling actor who has moved from France. She did everything for him in reciprocity got cheated.

I think Mili never came out of this multiple trauma. The butterfly I had seen her in the first meeting ended up as a lone worrier. RIP Mili.