You were undoubtedly the proudest Indian I ever met. You always had something to say, which was neither wise nor made sense, but was usually miraculously uplifting. Whenever I though I had a hard row to hoe, James, you came in and talked about drug addiction and shitty people and disappointment with a sort of cheery tone that made me forget that I was upset in the first place.
I also realize that you never complained. Ever. Things happen. People disappoint. Shit happens. It is the relentless flow of life that keeps coming, and there are two major choices: the bank or the swim upstream. James, you have chosen the swim, and I have extreme admiration for you.
With you gone, I'll have to learn to complain less, love more, and just learn from my frustration, otherwise your absence will be hard felt.
