Life goes on 👣: A tribute to my dearest brother Bitu

 

Life goes on 👣

This was his status message on social media – simple, yet profound. But none of us ever imagined that his own life would come to a sudden and heartbreaking halt so soon. My beloved younger brother, Bitu – Niroj Ranjan Panda – left us on the night of 16th June 2025, around 10 PM, when he was alone at home.

The autopsy revealed he had suffered a massive cardiac arrest – a Myocardial Infarction (MCI) – leading to left ventricular rupture. The thought that he endured such terrible pain in solitude, with no one around to call for help, leaves me shattered. I keep going back to his pictures, and every time, tears swell in my eyes.

He was just 1 year, 8 months, and 15 days younger than me – my closest companion through childhood and youth. A silent fighter, he endured more stress and suffering than most could bear. Life bruised him, shook him, wore him down. Yet he met it all with a broad, hopeful smile.

Looking back, I feel a crushing weight of guilt. I knew his struggles. I knew how he was being worn down – emotionally, mentally, physically. I thought he should deal with his issues on his own, that he needed to take responsibility for his life. I thought it wasn’t my place to interfere. I failed to see that he didn’t need solutions – he just needed me. He needed my presence, my time, my brotherhood.

Our mother stood by him with unconditional love – but her emotional, uninformed support could only do so much. His partner, sadly, did not offer him the care and understanding he desperately needed. Over time, the loneliness and burdens became unbearable. He never prioritized his health, never got preventive check-ups, never sought medical advice – and now, it’s too late.

My heart aches to imagine how helpless he must have felt in his final moments. I failed him – not for lack of love, but for lack of action. My degrees, my connections, my career in government – none of it mattered when it came to truly helping the one who mattered most. I didn’t recognize how much he held up the family, how much he sacrificed.

We were so close growing up. He completed his Intermediate in Science, then a Diploma in Engineering (BOSE, CTC / UCPES, BAM), a degree in Humanities (SBP University), and a Postgraduate Diploma in Toy & Game Design from NID, Gandhinagar. I had dreams for him – that he would flourish in his design career, marry the woman he loved, and thrive in a big city. But when that relationship fell apart, it deeply affected him. He tried, but couldn’t recover fully – his addiction took over.

At the time, I believed he needed professional help. But my parents thought marriage would bring responsibility and stability. I never supported that decision. Sadly, the marriage only deepened his struggles. Eventually, I distanced myself for the sake of my own mental peace – something I now deeply regret. That distance may have been the final blow to his spirit.

Now, I have lost a part of myself – a brother, a friend, a confidant. And an 8-year-old boy has lost his father. But life, as he used to say, goes on. I promise to raise his son with love and strength, and help him grow into the kind of man his father wanted to be – strong, kind, and fulfilled.

Bitu, I hope you’ve found the peace and joy in the afterlife that you were denied here.

Alvida, my dearest brother.

May your soul be free and at rest.