For oncologist and author Ranjana Srivastava, a new year's resolution emerged not from a list of tired goals, but from the profound experience of a funeral. At the close of 2025, she found herself reflecting on a deeper purpose after saying goodbye to a revered community figure known affectionately as 'Uncle'.
A Funeral Provides the Ultimate Reckoning
The funeral was for the father of an old friend, an Indian academic who had arrived in Australia during the final years of the White Australia policy. He built a successful commercial career from his academic work, but his most significant legacy was forged in retirement. Alongside his wife, he dedicated himself to enriching the diaspora community, preserving Indian heritage through music, dance, and spirituality. This vital service earned both of them recognition in the Australian honours system.
Dr Srivastava recalls first meeting Uncle at Holi, the vibrant Indian festival of colours, which he helped organise. These events were masterclasses in diversity, featuring performers and speakers of all ages and backgrounds, actively weaving the fabric of Australian multiculturalism.
Having attended many funerals in her professional capacity, the doctor observes that such occasions provide the ultimate measure of a life. Uncle's service was no exception. A huge crowd gathered, each person with a story: former students, colleagues he mentored, new migrants he counselled. The ceremony was dignified, featuring a poignant video of Uncle himself reciting prayers now used in his final rites.
The 'Loudest' Form of Love
What struck Dr Srivastava most was the intensity of her own sorrow, given that her interactions with Uncle were relatively rare. Upon reflection, she pinpointed the reason: he made her feel seen. He exuded genuine pride in her achievements, greeted her as a long-lost friend at events, and never forgot to express his fondness to her parents. In her words, if making someone feel seen is the 'loudest' form of love, "there was no louder voice".
Even in illness, Uncle sought her medical advice, demonstrating a trust and intellectual humility that she believes shielded him from feeling threatened by others. His rapid decline and death felt unfair for a man so vital, who was still dreaming up new community projects.
A Resolution Forged in Grief
The funeral ended with a prolonged standing ovation for a man large in life and humble in bearing. Emerging into a day of warm sun and bright flowers, the universe seemed to caution against taking oneself too seriously.
Later, when a friend asked about the funeral, Dr Srivastava had found her resolution for the coming year. It moved beyond generic self-improvement goals. Her commitment was to make others – especially her patients – feel seen through daily actions. The aim is that when the world eventually says, "We won't be needing you any more," she will have fulfilled this fundamental human purpose.
The experience transformed her understanding of a meaningful legacy, framing it not in grand achievements alone, but in the quiet, powerful act of acknowledging the people around us.
