I first met Javed, his sister Rehanna and their parents - Aunty Stephanie and Uncle Feroze as I knew them - when my grandparents moved next door to them in 2002. A little later on, his youngest sister Zara was born. I actually still remember the excitement of going upstairs to see baby Zara sleeping in a little bassinet.
To say I've known Javed for what feels like my entire life is an understatement. The Omardeen household felt like a safe haven for me growing up. I remember sitting at the dining room table with the family after school, playing cricket and football with Javed and Rehanna in the front yard (though I was never very good at either), pool limes in the back yard and sneaking around (as teenagers do) having our first alcoholic drinks together.
I even remember being allowed to run upstairs to Javed's room, and wake him up when he was sleeping because I wanted to lime with him. Needless to say he wasn't always in the best mood with me when I did, but he often obliged, letting me sit on the floor as I blabbed about some ridiculous thing that happened while he patiently listened. He wasn't much of a talker then and he would only mutter a couple of words here and there to let me know he was still listening to my never-ending stories. Eventually he would say "Kris, I'm going back to sleep" and I'd go downstairs and sit at the family table and wait for him to come down.
The Omardeen house was a place where I always learned something new, I remember spending Christmases together, Javed playing the ukelele, teaching me things about countries I had never even heard of (from the world map on the wall in the computer room), giving me some history lesson about Trinidad and telling me about different plants and animals.
At some point in our teen years we drifted apart, I stopped going over as much and for a while I wasn't sure if Javed and I would be close again. Cue the rekindling of our friendship in our early twenties, by this time Javed was already living in Brasso Seco and my grandparents had moved out of Westmoorings. So it took some more intentionality on both our parts to stay in touch.
I don't even remember how we ended up hanging out again, it just happened so organically like we never even missed a beat - it was like picking up from where we left off.
This timeline saw our friendship take on a different tone, Javed and I had both grown up and we were different from who we used to be as kids. He was way more talkative and engaging - I was often surprised that now I was the one quietly listening while he talked my ears off about his life in Brasso Seco. Javed always shared pieces of his inner world with me - we talked about his dreams, goals, frustrations, insecurities, his view on spirituality, how he felt about his business, what his plans were for the land he was living on, his dating life and so much more. Contrastingly sometimes our friendship was simply sitting on the front step of his family home, silently leaning against each other, neither one of us wanting to break the silence. I was his confidant and he was mine. He often shared various pictures and parts of his life with me that he trusted me to keep close to my heart and I always did.
Javed taught me about conching chocolate, winowing the beans, banging the chocolate molds on a table to take out the air bubbles and almost every other part of the chocolate making process. Often he would save little bags of treats for me whenever I went over to his house. He was always the kindest and most generous person. Throughout the last 10 years, we would make concerted efforts to see each other nearly every time he came down to his parents house in West and I made a couple trips up to Brasso Seco to visit him as well (though not as much as I would have liked).
The other day I was going through our WhatsApp messages and the entire chat for the last 10 years was a combination of these exact exchanges - Me: "Hey Jav, when are you back in west?" Javed: "Hi Kris, I'm coming down next week, I have some things to do on Friday but I'll have time on Saturday in the evening." Me: "Cool, message me and I'll come over." Javed: "Okay see you then"
We spent a considerable amount of time together during the second year of the pandemic (even though we were probably breaking several laws) and during that time I was considering leaving the country to go live out my dream as a digital nomad. Javed was the person who encouraged me to go.
He was one of the few people to see me before I left for Costa Rica in 2021. And though we didn't stay in touch a lot during my travels, every time I came home, our friendship would simply pick up again.
Javed and I couldn't be more different in terms of our personalities but somehow our friendship just worked. He always made me feel seen and understood. He never judged me or asked me to change anything about myself and vice versa. What we had was rare and irreplaceable.
The love and depth of friendship we had is not easy for me to put into words, there is no one that can ever take his place in my life and I know that I will grieve his passing forever. He was and still is one of my very best friends and I am so grateful that my grandparents moved next door to his family 23 years ago.
The one thing I will miss most is his laughter - he always had the most infectious raspy laugh when he thought something was really funny. I wish I had a video or audio to capture that sound so I could listen to it on repeat for the days to come.
Here are some pictures of my last time in Brasso - I asked Jav if he needed anything because he was in the garden and he asked me to make some juice with oranges and grapefruit....
How beautiful! Thank you for sharing 🌺