dharrini

21/11/1964 - 07/04/2025

This is a grief I have never felt before. The tears have been endless since I learned you were gone. Yet somehow, when the waves of sorrow calm down, I can sit with my baby sister, laughing and gushing about all the fun times we had with our Chandhri Aunty. Meanwhile, Amma has to endure the loss of her baby sister for the rest of her life. This realization crushes me again and again.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. You were supposed to be here. You were supposed to see me get married this year. You should’ve outlived us all. You deserved the world, but this world didn’t deserve you. You suffered more than anyone should in this life, yet you wore a beaming smile wherever you went- easing the pain of others. I know you’re free now. Free from pain. Wrapped in warmth and peace. But still, selfishly, my heart aches for your presence. I can’t even keep track of how many times I’ve tried to write this. There are no words to truly describe you, but I’ll try anyway.

Chandrika Ganesparan was a woman of legacy. A master of her craft, a nurturer of talents, and my own personal hero. Her love was boundless and unconditional. When I was overcome with anxiety and imposter syndrome, she guided me back to the solace of Sangeetham. She made me believe in the power of music. She told me constantly that I had a gift that should not be ignored.

Though she never had children of her own, through her school of music, she raised and shaped the lives of countless children. She created community wherever she went. She was stubborn, witty, playful, ambitious, and above all, a devoted daughter, sister, guru, friend, and matriarch.

My heart is broken, and the love I have for you overflows in ways I can scarcely express. I only hope that, in your absence, I can find a way to carry your light forward. Tonight, I’ll talk to you in my dreams.