Maybe its not about the happy ending. Maybe it’s about the story.
Arun touched so many people. We would love for you to share your memories of Arun on this page for everyone to see.
Please complete the simple form at the bottom of this page and your memories will be published for everyone to read.
If you have any photographs, movies or media that would you like to share, comment in the form and we will publish them too.
Somehow, Arun had managed to buy 100 rubber ducks for less than a penny. I don’t know what website it was from, but apparently Arun bought them, and then had to wait months before they finally arrived.
Warwick School
Naturally, the first thing Arun did once they had arrived was begin to customise them!
He drew on moustaches, clothes, beards, and jewellery! And then, once he was happy with how his fleet of ducks looked, he proceeded to hide them all around the classroom!
Several went on the desks, two went on top of the whiteboard. One went on top of the door, and actually fell down on me when I came into the lesson.
In fact, still to this day, if you peer around the back of the smartboard in M4, you can see the two rubber ducks that fell behind it, and are stuck in the wiring back there.
In Physics, Arun came in looking very pleased with himself. He dropped his bag onto the desk, and a puddle of milk suddenly started pouring from it.
Tom B.
“MY MILK!!!!!!” he squeaked in a pitch only Arun could reach. He picked his bag up and started running to the sinks, but not before doing a quick lap of the classroom.
Everyone was aching with laughter and we were given a hilarious memory to share forever.
Arun was in Upper Sixth, which means he was going to leave school at the end of the year. And as part of that, every member of the U6 writes a few silly things about themselves which go into a leavers’ yearbook.
Warwick School (Feb 2023)
This year, one of the questions was: What is the best reason for receiving a yellow card?
Of course this caused a bit of a conundrum for Arun, he had only received two yellow cards over his 7 years at the school, and felt he couldn’t use either of these as, in his words, they were for ‘boring things’.
So a few weeks ago, in a maths lesson, Arun asked his teacher to give him a yellow card!
Of course she said no – she can’t just give you a yellow card for no reason! But Arun was insistent! Over the course of the lesson he continually kept asking, when the teacher posed mathematical questions, he would precursor every answer with “can I have a yellow card?”. He was adamant that he wanted to be able to write: “I got a yellow card for asking for a yellow card” in his yearbook!
Eventually the teacher gave in, and gave him a yellow card for: “Disrespecting the Warwick School sanction system by repeatedly asking for a yellow card”.
It is fair to say that Arun was very thankful.
Arun was the funniest person I have ever met. He could always make everyone laugh with his (slightly rude but nonetheless effective) sense of humour, and I’ll miss him so much.
Charlotte S.
I’ll never forget him destroying me at Mario Kart (as he would with any other video game I’m sure) and doing an extremely exaggerated victory dance to really bring the point home, or when he death stared everyone one break time for literally no reason… just to see how we’d react.
We miss laughing with you, Arun.
I first met Arun when I joined Warwick School in year 9, even back then he was still the funny but odd guy we all grew to know and love.
Thilakshan K.
I don’t think I ever spent as much time laughing and genuinely just being myself around anyone like I was around Arun, he had a way of making people feel comfortable around him (until they hear one of his dodgy jokes).
We made jokes about how I was the Curry God and Arun was my loyal disciple (loyal only when it benefitted him) we even went as far as to create “The Holy Gospel of TK and Clink” which was basically a list of quotes, most of which we’d stolen off the internet and replaced certain key words with the word “curry”, however we did come up with some of our own unique quotes which were interesting to say the least.
We had a lot of fun together and made many memories that I’ll cherish for the rest of my life.
Arun, there are so many memories. You were part of the fabric of my life, our family. You still are. I miss you and am heartbroken.
Priya
I’m finding it hard to articulate my memories. My jumbled up memories are mixed in with the days I thought I had the luxury of forgetting…When you were all little, I would stay over and we would bake together; at nani and nana’s showing you how to make hot chocolate; you explaining why the computer games of my childhood were about going on a set path to collect things whereas your generation’s games were about creating and making your own worlds; every Christmas. One where you all covered Jesal in Christmas lights and tinsel, the ones when you were teeny, our last one. You were making silly faces in all the photos then. All the birthdays. All the Diwalis. The holidays and weekends. I keep looking at the photos now.
When we made a den by dragging huge sticks and fallen branches back to the garden. Playing in the park like I was a kid too. Attempting yoga. Telling me you wanted 3 cats when you were older. Going for walks, on the bikes that time. Showing me how you organised your seeds for gardening. Your day of the week socks. You and Ajay running around after Pavan at the last summer bbq. Making art with you. Watching your swimming lessons. You diving to the bottom. Making you giggle as a baby. I loved our chats. I always wanted to be your favourite masi. I love you forever, Priya masi x
In a very short space of time at the start of sixth form, I went from not knowing Arun at all to him becoming one of my closest friends.
Louis W.
As well as being extremely funny and a totally unique character, Arun was very easy to be yourself around. I think we shared an immature sense of humour and spent lots of time coming up with weird jokes and games, which made him a lot of fun to be around, and I think he particularly brought out the silly and childish side in me. I enjoyed how we used to speak to each other like year sevens playing ‘among us’ with lots of ridiculous vocabulary like ‘sus’, ‘cringe’, ‘unironically’ and ‘skill issue’, or would try to slip maths and physics terms into normal conversations. We also had a shared enjoyment of saying odd things to strangers over the internet, such as when we tried to send a message to a random person saying he was the greatest human being in history.
I am also grateful to Arun for his dedication to my F1 blog, as despite having no interest in motor racing at all, Arun frequently entertained me by writing silly and sometimes inappropriate comments that were very funny to read and motivated me to write the blog, while he kindly just generally showed an interest in my boring hobby and turned it into a source of fun for everyone. One of my favourite of Arun’s comments was this, under the name ‘model student’, after I wrote an article during school hours:
‘err… young man? I don’t believe this falls under acceptable use policy for the old institution from which you receive your humblest and most prosperous education. Under the institution’s value of ‘curiosity’, I would personally ‘allow this to slide’ under a misplaced will to discover the outcome of such blatant disobedience. However, I fear the law will not make exceptions next time. Please consult your blue book for more on the institutional acceptable IT use policy, or consult your mother.’
Thank you for all the happy memories, Arun. You were a very special friend to me.
Arun was a son and a brother, a hard-working student, and a loyal supporter friend. He was a high-achieving mathematician, but still with that personal touch – and he had a great sense of humour.
School Chaplin
All of which makes it so hard for us to understand what has happened.
Arun had so much to live for, but tragically, it would appear he got to a stage where he couldn’t see that. His life is a life lost, when he had so much to give, which is what makes today so sad.
We miss him very much.
Arun Dhir 