This is an 'excerpt' from my diary..editted and abridged..you have to be my best friend to read the original..
4th September, 2007
Dear diary,
4.oo AM..Amma(mom) woke me up from sleep..somewhere deep down in sleep (not knowing the time, but knowing it was abnormally early)..I was, kind of, ready with my lines, "We don't have college today Ma, its Janmashtami.Let me sleep"..But, what I heard from her was something I rather never wanted to hear,but knew deep down that it was inevitable.."Thatha (granpa) is no more"..For a while,I just couldn't take it..though knowing well what I heard,I replied out of lack of words, "What nonsense?"..That was probably the most absurd reaction I had ever given to anything. My mind was not prepared.
I was not ready to get out of my room now, I thought Nani (Dad) would be crying..and I did not want see that. I was not ready for a scene like that, and will never be, coz that's the last thing I would ever want to see, or rather, the only thing I don't ever want to face. I was scared, I was selfish.But I, somehow, bucked up guts and got out of the room, and there Nani was, booking tickets for the immediate next flight and attending calls-being the perfect son, and of course, goes without saying, the perfect father too. I gave him a glance, hoping deep down he doesn't look up. I was not in a position to face him. I was clueless about how to react to this. I walked into the other room, and gave Maria (sis) a hug. She was probably a bit too young to understand and know what was happening, but I knew I was old enough to be there for her. I didn't know what to do next. Should I sit right there? Should I talk? Should I keep quiet? Should I cry?..I had no idea,not an inch of it.
There was some strange music going on in my head, I didn't know why..As it kept ringing again and again, it started sounding like a mourn..I could see , in my mind, the song being sung by a group of people in plain white clothes..I looked into the mirror, and saw a pair of eyes staring into mine..I got reminded of an old man, with silvery white hair, clean shaven, white vest, white dhothi..it was Him-Thatha..The smile on his face was jus too good to make anybody cry just with the thought of knowing that it wouldn't come back again, never, ever again.Somewhere in my conscience I knew this man very well. I knew He was a man who'll never die. He's up there now, smiling at all of us. He's there,feeling at peace,that he's done all that He was sent down to do. He probably had no other worry now, than to think of how he'd come back to see us.
I still didn't cry. I don't know why..I shut myself up in my room..That smile, that divine smile was torturing my conscience to make me cry, and I finally did..I fell on my knees and burst out crying..I didn't have anybody to talk to..I was scared to talk it out, strangely..But, I was urged to talk it out, to speak out whatever was going on in my head (I felt it was best to write it down, so this)..I kept quiet, cried for a while, and walked out of the room, composed and seemingly brave..
Our cab arrived to drop us at the airport..We had a flight at 5.45 AM , had to be there by 4.45 AM or so..The cab guy rushed us through the not-so-busy morning roads of Hyderabad and got us there on time..(God bless him)..We waited for a rather long hour,counting all the sixty minutes on our fingers. The announcement for our flight was made and we picked up our luggage to get into the plane, hiding the hidden tears in our eyes..As it took off and flew through the clouds, I saw that man again..the holy, seraphic soul..It almost brought tears to my eyes, every other cell in my body was crying, though..But, at the same time I was numb..I am losing count on the series of thoughts I've been having..I'm only writing out a few, there are tonnes of feelings still left inside me, for which have no words..I don't know what to write furthur..After all, this was the closest ever encounter with death..
8.45 PM
We reached there at around 11 in the morning. Hundreds of people had come to see Him. They were all crying..It was as if he was floating in a sea of tears..People loved him so much, that their emotions just couldn't stop, they had to be rather cold like me to do that..There he was, lying right there, on the cot, like God never seen before.
It was a funeral worth watching, every bit of it..And I was lucky enough, to see God's funeral. It was like, we were all crying over the death of God, though knowing very well that God never dies..And this God died the day God was once upon a time born,Janmashtami.
Initially, I couldn't buck up my guts to walk into the house, I put a step in and then, walked out and started crying, walking along the road, helpless and directionless. In a way, I didn't get in because I was scared, about the same thing, the scene I never wanted to see. I had to walk into the house, as I was called in by one of the many well-wishers of the family. The whole house reminded me of Him..And those words He'd chant every morning.."Om Namo Bhagavathe Vasudevaya" kept ringing in my head again and again..I remembered him telling me once, how fond people were of Him, and today, I saw that myself. I got reminded of those feet I massaged almost everytime I met Him..and He'd tell me "I feel relieved now".
I spoke to everybody I knew there, before I went to meet Him for one last time..They were all only crying over this irrepairable loss..They were helpless..
I slowly moved towards Him, and sat next to Him and stared blankly into His still-radiant face. I wasn't crying even now..But, this time it was not out of my hard-heartedness, it was something else.. I held him with both my hands, gently..and a rose petal, from one of the garlands put on him with utmost respect and homage, fell into my hand..and I smiled. It felt like he was saying "Hello" to me, He was talking to me.
I touched his face..It was cold, it was moist, without any moisture in it. It was alive, without any life inside. He seemed to be looking at me through his half-opened eyes. I sat there with him, doing my bit of talking, in silence..telling him how much he's loved.
He was taken out of the house for the final rites..and those were the 'final rights' we had on him. We only saw him going away from us..far, far away, never to return. It is going to be difficult to imagine things without him. All that comes out from my heart is, "May His soul be blessed,and may He remain peaceful"..And I only wish he finds a way to tell us, somehow, "I'm fine.Don't worry".
love,
Lalita.
4th September, 2007
Dear diary,
4.oo AM..Amma(mom) woke me up from sleep..somewhere deep down in sleep (not knowing the time, but knowing it was abnormally early)..I was, kind of, ready with my lines, "We don't have college today Ma, its Janmashtami.Let me sleep"..But, what I heard from her was something I rather never wanted to hear,but knew deep down that it was inevitable.."Thatha (granpa) is no more"..For a while,I just couldn't take it..though knowing well what I heard,I replied out of lack of words, "What nonsense?"..That was probably the most absurd reaction I had ever given to anything. My mind was not prepared.
I was not ready to get out of my room now, I thought Nani (Dad) would be crying..and I did not want see that. I was not ready for a scene like that, and will never be, coz that's the last thing I would ever want to see, or rather, the only thing I don't ever want to face. I was scared, I was selfish.But I, somehow, bucked up guts and got out of the room, and there Nani was, booking tickets for the immediate next flight and attending calls-being the perfect son, and of course, goes without saying, the perfect father too. I gave him a glance, hoping deep down he doesn't look up. I was not in a position to face him. I was clueless about how to react to this. I walked into the other room, and gave Maria (sis) a hug. She was probably a bit too young to understand and know what was happening, but I knew I was old enough to be there for her. I didn't know what to do next. Should I sit right there? Should I talk? Should I keep quiet? Should I cry?..I had no idea,not an inch of it.
There was some strange music going on in my head, I didn't know why..As it kept ringing again and again, it started sounding like a mourn..I could see , in my mind, the song being sung by a group of people in plain white clothes..I looked into the mirror, and saw a pair of eyes staring into mine..I got reminded of an old man, with silvery white hair, clean shaven, white vest, white dhothi..it was Him-Thatha..The smile on his face was jus too good to make anybody cry just with the thought of knowing that it wouldn't come back again, never, ever again.Somewhere in my conscience I knew this man very well. I knew He was a man who'll never die. He's up there now, smiling at all of us. He's there,feeling at peace,that he's done all that He was sent down to do. He probably had no other worry now, than to think of how he'd come back to see us.
I still didn't cry. I don't know why..I shut myself up in my room..That smile, that divine smile was torturing my conscience to make me cry, and I finally did..I fell on my knees and burst out crying..I didn't have anybody to talk to..I was scared to talk it out, strangely..But, I was urged to talk it out, to speak out whatever was going on in my head (I felt it was best to write it down, so this)..I kept quiet, cried for a while, and walked out of the room, composed and seemingly brave..
Our cab arrived to drop us at the airport..We had a flight at 5.45 AM , had to be there by 4.45 AM or so..The cab guy rushed us through the not-so-busy morning roads of Hyderabad and got us there on time..(God bless him)..We waited for a rather long hour,counting all the sixty minutes on our fingers. The announcement for our flight was made and we picked up our luggage to get into the plane, hiding the hidden tears in our eyes..As it took off and flew through the clouds, I saw that man again..the holy, seraphic soul..It almost brought tears to my eyes, every other cell in my body was crying, though..But, at the same time I was numb..I am losing count on the series of thoughts I've been having..I'm only writing out a few, there are tonnes of feelings still left inside me, for which have no words..I don't know what to write furthur..After all, this was the closest ever encounter with death..
8.45 PM
We reached there at around 11 in the morning. Hundreds of people had come to see Him. They were all crying..It was as if he was floating in a sea of tears..People loved him so much, that their emotions just couldn't stop, they had to be rather cold like me to do that..There he was, lying right there, on the cot, like God never seen before.
It was a funeral worth watching, every bit of it..And I was lucky enough, to see God's funeral. It was like, we were all crying over the death of God, though knowing very well that God never dies..And this God died the day God was once upon a time born,Janmashtami.
Initially, I couldn't buck up my guts to walk into the house, I put a step in and then, walked out and started crying, walking along the road, helpless and directionless. In a way, I didn't get in because I was scared, about the same thing, the scene I never wanted to see. I had to walk into the house, as I was called in by one of the many well-wishers of the family. The whole house reminded me of Him..And those words He'd chant every morning.."Om Namo Bhagavathe Vasudevaya" kept ringing in my head again and again..I remembered him telling me once, how fond people were of Him, and today, I saw that myself. I got reminded of those feet I massaged almost everytime I met Him..and He'd tell me "I feel relieved now".
I spoke to everybody I knew there, before I went to meet Him for one last time..They were all only crying over this irrepairable loss..They were helpless..
I slowly moved towards Him, and sat next to Him and stared blankly into His still-radiant face. I wasn't crying even now..But, this time it was not out of my hard-heartedness, it was something else.. I held him with both my hands, gently..and a rose petal, from one of the garlands put on him with utmost respect and homage, fell into my hand..and I smiled. It felt like he was saying "Hello" to me, He was talking to me.
I touched his face..It was cold, it was moist, without any moisture in it. It was alive, without any life inside. He seemed to be looking at me through his half-opened eyes. I sat there with him, doing my bit of talking, in silence..telling him how much he's loved.
He was taken out of the house for the final rites..and those were the 'final rights' we had on him. We only saw him going away from us..far, far away, never to return. It is going to be difficult to imagine things without him. All that comes out from my heart is, "May His soul be blessed,and may He remain peaceful"..And I only wish he finds a way to tell us, somehow, "I'm fine.Don't worry".
love,
Lalita.
this..made me cry.!!!!
ReplyDeleteevery one has this kinda experience..this remembers u of ur people..whom u love...nd they die...
really heart touching
this..made me cry.!!!!
ReplyDeleteevery one has this kinda experience..this reminds u of ur people..whom u love...nd they die...
really heart touching
oh my god! after reading this! i really felt as if he was my grandfather...
ReplyDeletep.s.- hands down i can say that there are better writers in hyderabad, better than me of course and ure one of them!
Very touching..! The relationship with grandparents is always special and one that is fast getting forgotten in a world dominated by nuclear families. Given this context, this note written right out of the heart by Lalita is one of it's kinds and definitely here to stay in my heart for a very long time...
ReplyDeleteI never knew my grandparents , for some reason . But i think i now understand the emotions involved when someone close to u is never coming back ,a grandparent maybe . i can actually feel every line u have written .One of your best ones.
ReplyDelete