While growing up, I missed a lot of important events back in my native. With less technology to aid, we'd wait for the next uncle or aunt who'd return from vacation to see a couple of photographs or to hear all about it, while they pulled out coconuts, bananas, snacks and pickles from their cartoon box stained with oil and fragrant of Kerala. This phase also denied us the privilege to say goodbye to many of our loved ones. I remember how we'd get a call on our landline that lasted less than a minute - "Chettan is gone. The funeral will be mostly in the morning." This call is usually followed by some silence, a burning candle and sharing some memories. In fact, my father heard of his own dad the same way - just fortunate that he had a mobile phone by then and received the news while driving on the highway. We lit candles and prayed for grandpa while Pappa George got on a flight to say his final goodbye - or is it really a goodbye once the person is already gone? Y...