The Second Death

The monk hurriedly reached the monastery - there was about half an hour before the prayers began. He gently lifted the piece of cloth around his mouth to fit in place -today, was the day when he couldn't speak. Silence was said to help him focus his thoughts inwards, and on the greater force in this universe - devoid of all worldly distractions.

With nothing else to do, he walked over to the water area, to get a drink and refresh himself. The sun beat down mercilessly, and everything in sight had turned brown from green. There was silence all around except for the sounds of twigs crackling and the occasional chirping of a bird.

As he took a sip of the cool water from the palm of his hand, he thought "the necessities of a man are so primal - food, water and shelter. The minute these are met with, he starts to find ways to complicate his life". A small chirp from a bird almost sounding like a cry interrupted his thoughts, and he looked in the direction where it came from.

On the branch of a Birch wood tree, sat a little bird with a twig in it's beak. The branch was bent in an arch, and a part of it was over the water. A closer look at the bird revealed that it was a little sparrow, it's head almost the size of it's puny body. In it's tiny little beak, it precariously held a twig, and was trying very hard to inch towards the upper part of the branch.

The monk stood there, and watched the sparrow struggle with the weight of the twig. He then realized that the little sparrow had a broken limb and had deep wounds around it's neck, as if it had been held in a very firm grip of a bigger animal or a bird. A quick look at the top of the tree revealed an eagle sitting, smacking it's claws. It seemed like the little sparrow had slipped from it's claws, and had fallen to the lower branch - there it had found a twig, and even in it's wounded state was trying to help fortify it's nest. The eagle waited for the right time to pounce on it's prey...

A shiver went up the monk's spine, when he took in the whole scene. The little bird was trying to do something for it's nest, and it's kin even when it's own existence was questionable - and at risk?. "Is this even natural?", thought the monk. What or who would do this - what kind of force within drove this little sparrow to these limits?

While the whole scene seemed to hang by a thread, where the slightest movement in any of the characters would create an imbalance and the result could be anything, the monk didn't know anything better than to hold his breath himself - afraid to hurt anything or afraid to be a spectator to the end result.

"Ram, catch me...common you are so slow..." The voices were that of four children, chasing each other. The lead boy seemed to have the coveted ball in his hand - the rest were chasing him. Innocence at it's best - unaware, and oblivious of the situation. Innocence - thought the monk.

The boys stopped right under the tree and were panting as they struggled to catch their breath. "Let us drink some water" said their leader - a plump boy with a very cherubic face. He drank some, and that was when he laid his eyes on the sparrow. "Hey, look everyone! A sparrow! Look, look at how slowly it is moving" He screamed with excitement. There was a big flutter above at the sudden screams, and the monk lifted his head to see the eagle fly away. What a relief, he thought.

Before he could look down and react, the leader of the boys had taken some stones, and was pelting them at the sparrow! No! No! the monk couldn't really scream, because of his vow of silence that day - but he waved his hands frantically - but there was no stopping the boys...

First, the limbs were broken. Then the stones hit it's head. One, two, three stones, enough to smash it. It reeled for just a bit, lost it's balance and fell to the ground. Fell right at the feet of it's aggressors. They knew no bounds then - their prey right at their feet!. The emotions on the faces of the boys were indescribable - their barbaric joy driven by their innocence, fueled by their ignorance, and something that seemed to spiral higher and higher, proportionate with the pain the sparrow suffered.

The last stone to hit was on it's small breast - it was so powerful that it cracked the tiny thing open! Whoosh! gushed the blood out...red all around. Coating the grass, the kid's foot and the the dirt road. The tiny heart seemed to give way - to the cruelty, to forces that were beyond it's tiny capacity - it's existence, it's love did not seem to have any place or value.

The monk stood rooted - crying and in shock. "You don't belong here little one.." he silently prayed...was all he could think.

The Sun had begun to set - the little boy ran towards his home sobbing - for what? No one knew. The monk walked slowly towards the monastery...

I always had thought everything in this Universe ends only once. But, did you know you could die again even after being dead? Yes, just when you think you have hit the bottom, and think that you could build a tiny little world of your own there, at that level, the forces that are stronger than you can shake it, rock it and break it all over again...and you slip further down. Will that be the end? Will that be the rock bottom, and you won't slip further deeper...I doubt it...

That is why I think you could die over and over again even after being dead...a million times...there is no end...

The Mirage

During moments of self-introspection, after all thoughts belonging to all the categories - pity, sympathy, love, anger, affection, friendship, motherhood, and what else, have subsided, and have swept over me, the last one to go past me is always one of being tired - tired of chasing something.

The burden of mere existence I guess. The little games, the lies, the fake realities, the unrealistic dreams, the greed to live and not let live - nauseate me...

I always wonder what everyone one of us is running after. Don't we all believe we have a goal so well defined, and that we are so in control of things around us?

But, how painful are those moments when the realization of how small our existence really is, sets in? How many of us have even experienced such humbling moments, where we realize how atomic we are in the grander scheme of things?

There is an eternal quest in search of having it all...where is the end?

Among the various stages to this ultimate realization, Jnana Yoga is first must. It fundamentally teaches two things:

Viveka - Discrimination: The ability to differentiate between what is real/eternal (Brahman) and what is unreal/temporal (everything else in the universe.)

Vairagya - Dispassion: After practice one should be able to "detach" her/himself from everything that is "temporary."

Detachment from everything is what has been emphasized upon over and over again in all of Vedanta to be able to achieve eternal bliss.

I was very impressed by the following excerpt from Vivekananda's speech on Our Real Self (take the time to read it):



Great is the tenacity with which people cling to the senses. Yet, however substantial they may think the external world in which they live and move, there comes a time in the lives of individuals and of races when, involuntarily, they ask, "Is this real?" To those who never find a moment to question the credentials of their senses, whose every moment is occupied with some sort of sense-enjoyment--even to them death comes, and they also are compelled to ask, "Is this real?"

He further says:

We may talk about seeing nothing beyond and keeping all our hopes and aspirations confined to the present moment, and struggle hard not to think of anything beyond the world of senses; and, perhaps, everything outside helps to keep us limited within its narrow bounds. The whole world may combine to prevent us from broadening out beyond the present. Yet, so long as there is death, the question must come again and again, "Is death the end of all these things to which we are clinging, as if they were the most real of all realities, the most substantial of all substances?" The world vanishes in a moment and is gone. Standing on the brink of a precipice beyond which is the infinite yawning chasm, every mind, however hardened, is bound to recoil and ask, "Is this real?" The hopes of a lifetime, built up little by little with all the energies of a great mind, vanish in a second. Are they real? This question must be answered. Time never lessens its power; on the other hand, it adds strength to it.

[Concluding Part III] - A Fist Full of Memories

I stood there in the darkness for what seemed like an eternity. The rain had turned to a slight drizzle. The moonless night, with the rain and the clouds still dark and ready to burst into a downpour seemed significant - so akin to where I stood in my life. I had no idea what time it was...

Looking at the terrace wall, a distant memory tugged at my heart - long forgotten, yet so fresh. I remembered that late evening when Varun was visiting on his vacation, so many years ago - me and Varun stood on the terrace. The sun had just set, and the sky seemed reluctant to let go of the million hues it was painted with, and turn dark. It seemed to hold within it all the beauty, the serenity - resplendent in all the colors of life! Who, or what in this nature would like to turn ugly from being beautiful?

Varun stood very close to me, and together we were looking over the terrace wall into the neighbor's courtyard, as they celebrated the homecoming of their newly wed son. As we watched, I could feel Varun's breath next to my ear as he moved closer to take a better peek. There was a slight breeze that had picked up, and my hair danced with it. Before I knew, Varun gently pushed the wisps of hair from my forehead, and tucked them behind my ears and gently touched my cheeks, and whispered "This is all I need Chinni Ma. Nothing else matters". He then said "Chinni Ma, I wish I could marry a girl just like you in every way" it was a mere whisper - the softest voice I had ever heard. My heart was racing. I could hardly breathe. He knelt down, moved my sari just an inch higher from my ankle, and put my foot in his lap. He looked up at me and our eyes met - as if to ask for permission - I did not realize that I simply nodded. He ever so gently kissed my toes. Time stood still - for just a few seconds. I found my voice, and could barely utter "Prince, I can't let you do anything that's not right. Please leave". He started to say something...but, stopped. He stood up and quietly left, leaving me alone to stand there. That was all that happened, on that fatal night.

I was swept off my feet - in one unguarded moment, I had crossed over into an unknown land, and this relationship had touched forbidden boundaries, or rather had hit an unknown, undefined note - a land dictated by a different set of rules. Rules not made before, but that were made by me, made by us, just in an attempt to define this new bond we had formed. Right here, right this moment.I stood there and cried after Varun just turned and left - I was confused, I felt loved, and at the same time I hated myself - the emotions engulfed me wave after wave.

But, for a woman who was alien to her husband's love, did not know another man's affections, this was something I completely couldn't comprehend. I simply couldn't tag this feeling - the woman in me was touched, and a rhythm that I did not even know existed in me, was played upon - that's all I knew. Nothing beyond that. It was pure in it's truest form - untouched and untainted. I didn't even know what it was.

It was May 04.

As the days passed, I nor Varun tried anything to address what had happened that night, nor did we ever try to give a name to our relationship. I loved him as my son, a brother and I don't know what else, and all he had for me was love.In the end it did not matter.

Today, after all these years standing here, I did not not even know what I was grieving. I knew I had lost something, someone - but who? I didn't know.

I left the next morning back to where I belonged to. Needless to say, Bindu made sure that Varun did not even come to see me off at the railway station. One last look at him, and I never looked back.The thought that I may never ever see him again tore at my heart - but, other than still feel all the love for my baby, I was helpless.
No one else needed me. Harsh, but a bitter pill I had to swallow - life had given me the strength to endure.

I woke up every morning at about 4:00 AM - couldn't sleep after that. Dreams, nightmares, Varun, Arvind - people running, crying, laughing...it was endless torture.

"Chinni Ma, half a cup of coffee please..."

"Chinni Ma, you are my everything....my mom, my sister, and I see every relationship in you". Varun at 21 had said that. Innocent and mature at the same time. All I had done was pat him on the head, and kiss him on the forehead, and thought - my baby.

"Chinni Ma, will you come visit me regularly when I move away on my job postings?"

"Chinni Ma, I'm sooo hungry. Can I eat two packets of oatmeal please?". That was the cutest thing I thought. Feeding him had always given me an unknown satisfaction of being full myself.

"Chinni Ma, can you make this special vegetable rice for me?". For whom would I make it now?

Every single day was a torture - every single day or date had painful memories and was an anniversary of something.

On Jan 22nd we did this, on Oct 27th something else, some other day was special because of something else...where was the end to these memories?

The roads, the foods, the coffee, the setting sun, the moonlight, the hiking trails - everything that existed in nature and touched one's heart reminded me of Varun.

What do I do with these memories? where do I store them - forever? I used to make of note that I had to say this to Varun and that to him - but, never got a chance to...what was I supposed to do with all those untold things, all those things that remained undone...? what was one supposed to do?

He would hold my hand and say "Chinni Ma, I always want you beside me. I will always be there for you - no matter what happens"

So, Varun what happened? How did everything suddenly change? I don't hold anything against you - but, how can everything vanish? It defied all logic - maybe one of those things I never understood.

It was a loss of a relationship and also the loss of the person I was so familiar with and enjoyed being with - both at the same time. Which was a greater loss, I didn't know.

I had now after all this time, found a card from Varun in a book that he had been reading when he had come home on that vacation and when the incident on the terrace had happened...in the cared, he simply said he was sorry ...maybe for what happened on the terrace, or sorry for something else, I would never know.

Sometime I wonder who had made the rule that every form of love had to be bottled and labeled? Why did we need a definition for everything? Wasn't love enough for us humans, in a world fraught with hatred, deceit, and double standards? Maybe I was wrong...

Back home, I continued to live - and put on a brave face. It was mere existence. I did as was expected, by the same society- but, there were only three things on the face of this earth that knew the absolute truth on what I was going through. And, those were- God, me and my pillow.

I believe that only people who have lost something can really fully appreciate the presence of a beautiful relationship or the absence of it. The sensitivity and the depth that comes with a loss is not achievable for someone otherwise - I always thought they lived fake, make believe relationships - shallow and hollow. I still think so.

Varun called me just once after that - maybe to see if I was alive. "Chinni Ma, I'm leaving the country and going on an overseas posting. Just wanted to let you know." I quietly said "okay Varun". He immediately said "Chinni Ma, are you okay, take care of yourself". I said "Varun, take care and be happy - always" He asked me some other questions for the next 5 minutes or so - but, I had stopped hearing what he was talking... I said nothing . I had nothing else to say to him.

The Sun was setting, and it was Dec 31st. The last day of the year. The Sun had set in my life too. Gone forever was my laughter, my little desires, and everything else with it. There was no tomorrow to look forward to...tears burned down my cheeks and my throat...

Me and my memories will continue to live on - I will keep all of them tightly held in my fist - my fistful of memories....

Looking out at the sunset, I thought - I had heard that little baby birds leave the nest once they learn to fly...the mother bird actually prepares them for the flight...and it occured to me that I had done the same too. But, had anyone noticed the tears in the mother bird's eyes after the flight of it's fledgling?...

The skies are vast and blue and open..infinite, with no boundaries, no rules, no expectations...

I silently wished - may you soar as high as your wings can carry you little one - higher and higher...


[The End.....]

Part II - A Fist Full of Memories

Varun came to spend his vacation at home. It was spring. I did all that I could to make it the best vacation ever for him. Arvind was simply thrilled to have his son at home, and be able to spend his evenings chatting with him. Finally, they seemed to connect - on a vague level.

Those two weeks were the best ever for us a family - well, three strangers in ways unknown, tied in a bond. A bond created by us, and by fate.

The day of his departure arrived. Varun walked upto me as stood at the doorway. Paused, and looked into my eyes. He had said all he had to say. He simply walked away.

I did not hear from him for a few months. He called, and spoke to Arvind, and before I could talk to him, the phone would be disconnected.

Why Varun? Why me? I didn't know how to handle his reaction. Was it anger? Was it running away from me? Was it that he was afraid that he would go weak before me? Was he afraid of...it killed me. I needed him to tell me. I needed to know.

Nothing happened. Time did not wait for any of us...

One year after he was in the city, I got a call from Varun one afternoon. I was about to sip my hot cuppa coffee sitting on the steps, when I heard the ring. A shiver went up my spine...I could feel it...just the ring...I could almost feel his restlessness through the ringing of the phone - that had to be varun :-)

"Chinni Ma, I think I have found her!. I think I have found who I think is perfect for me...I have said YES to her yesterday. She seems to be a good girl chinni Ma. Is from the same profession as me, and I think we have a lot in common. I can't wait for you to meet her!"

I was silent. "Chinni Ma, you there....Chinni...you think I did the right thing?" I cleared my throat and said "Ofcourse, I'm sure you have considered everything, and I'm sure you will be happy with her. I can't wait to meet her". I tried to echo his excitement.

It was May 28th.

After some back and forth with the girls' parents, the wedding date was set to a date in November.

The wedding was done, and Varun with his bride Bindu were sent off to the city to build their nest.

Varun's calls became less frequent. It was understandable. Yes, he never forgot to call on all the special days.

It was my birthday that day, and Varun's call came as expected. "Happy Returns Chinni Ma.." I was sooo happy just to hear his voice. My voice trembled - "Varun, prince, where have you been? Are you okay?" Varun was silent. Just his silence said a million things to me - "Varun, what happened baby?" Silence. "Chinni Ma, things between me and Bindu are not very fine. I don't know what to do. I tried my best to do everything for her, but it seems like we are so different". I could feel the tears in his voice. My baby - he didn't have to say how much it was hurting him - it wrenched my heart to know that my Prince was unhappy. I wish I could turn the world upside down to fix it for him.

Well, things limped along, things were fine, he and Bindu continued to live their life together. But, my heart raced everytime Varun called, and leaped with joy just to know he was doing okay...

I lived my life through his in some vague, inexplainable way...our lives were tied together...

That winter, life chalked out paths for Arvind and me. Arvind set onto his last journey - the final destination that awaits all of us. He went to bed that night, and never woke up. He still had a peaceful smile on his lips when I tried waking him up the next morning. Arvind - just the way he was - never interfered with anyone, never said a bad thing to anyone, in his own world, till the end.

I mourned for sometime - mourned for our non-existent marriage, or for another human I would never see again, I don't know.

Varun came, did all that he had to do as a son, and left. I kept waiting for his calls as usual. Life seemed to be compressed between one call to the other...

One morning, he called and said "Chinni Ma, why don't you come and spend the summer with us?" I was silent.I didn't know what to say. "Chinni Ma, don't think so much about it - just come. Me and Bindu need some company....we get so bored over the weekends...everyone's family is so big and busy..." A million other excuses why I should go there. What he didn't say was - he needed me by his side. His pauses, his silence, his choice of words - everything else spoke for him.He didn't have to say it - I could read his heart and his mind. Sure baby, I'll be there.

I reached his place, and settled in in less than a day.

Bindu was a working woman, and found little time to spend much time on the house. Not her fault. I happily took over the role.

It was 6PM, and I quickly fixed a snack and made some tea that I poured into the thermos. Varun would be home anytime. He liked to have his tea and eat a bite as soon as he entered the house. And, it was my pleasure to do these little things - I did it for my baby, for my Prince.

That was when I saw the mangoes lying on the counter. Varun loved mangoes. I quickly cut a couple and kept them in the fridge - ready for Varun.

Bindu entered the house first, and Varun followed with a frown on his forehead.

We sat sipping our tea at the dining table. Bindu didn't say much. well honestly, I never had the feeling she liked me much. I didn't harbour any great affection for her either. Things were that way since the day we met. It happens sometimes betwen any two individuals. I had tried initially to build a bridge, and then got tired of it, and had silently given up. I did not have to carry this load - it was Varun's, and by his choice. That was the best I could do, and had left it at that.

Movies, city life...we kept talking on everything. Bindu was her silent self as usual. As we spoke, I felt Varun's foot on mine and stopped in the middle of my sentence. Varun liked to do that at the table, and it was something that always tugged at my heart.

Bindu stood up, pushed her cup away and stormed into the bedroom with Varun in persuit. The next thing I heard was her screaming away - "To hell with you Varun. That woman seems to be everything to you. Who am I? and what am I to you? Tell me Varun?"

I didn't hear Varun, and Bindu continued to rage. Shouting and screaming at the top of her lungs...abuses, allegations...it continued...

I debated should I go or stay out...but, I could not bear to see Varun being treated that way...nobody did that to my baby. Not as long as I was around...

I entered the room - very hesitantly. She turned to me - "You know you have entered our lives and taken him away from me. It's all because of you. I had a great marriage, and now all that Varun does is talk about you, think about you, and care for you. All the misery is because of you".

She kept sobbing and banging her head...it threw me oof the curve...

I was confused. Me? Why me? It seemed senseless. Did she even know what she was talking about? How could I snatch Varun away when he belonged to me in the first place? He was my baby - I was his mother. Step Mother. But, so what? I had done everything for him and had loved him just the way a real, biological mother would do for her baby.

And, I had given him to her. I was the one who consented to his marriage to her.So, the whole thing about the snatching part shocked me...did anyone have to snatch their babies from some one else?

Had mankind ever heard of such a thing? What was this mad woman even talking about...I felt my anger rise. I wanted to tell her a lot of things at that moment. Tell her everything she could not have even imagined...forget the snatching part. It would be nothing then in comparison...how dare she treat my baby this way, and talk like this...

I looked out of the window then. It was raining very very hard. I could feel the pulse throb at my temples. For a moment nothing moved in the room. I swallowed hard, asked Varun to get me a glass of water, and cleared my throat.

I was surpised at what came out of my mouth from that moment on for the next 4 hours. I told her everything that would make her feel better. Told her that she was the most important thing in his life...told her she was the perfect fit for him...told her I thought she was simply great, and told her a million things I didn't even mean.

Did I lie? I don't know. I did what I could as my baby's mother, to save his life - his broken relationship with her. My only instinct at that time was that of saving my baby. I had to. If I didn't do it, who would?

Could I ever harm him? No. Never.

Bindu kept screaming..."you do everything for him...you cook his favorite foods, he comes and talks to you about his problems...I'am his wife...I should be the one he should talk to.." and what not..

I thought to myself - well lady, where were you when he was breaking down? where was your love and so called selfless spirit when you broke him bit by bit with your demands, your heartlessness, and your constant nagging?

You cannot demand love girl - it happens between two people. If it doesn't happen the first time, it never will. And, it is not something you buy at the supermarket, or by throwing a tantrum like this one.

Anyway, all that did not matter. He was my baby, and I had a right to love him and protect him. This was beyond any discussion.

Varun sat there - silent and withdrawn. I could see he was shaken. Was he scared? He was in a deep thought - but speechless, while his wife kept throwing the baggage at me. I was blamed for the lack of everything in their relationship. I didn't even understand how - but, she seemed to need a target to bang on. And I was it.

I listened - I had to defend my baby - that was the only thought in my mind. My lips were sealed. My only defence? I did explain and talk and convince...well, I did my best..

My heart screamed - Why don't you speak Varun? why don't you tell her what your Chinni Ma means to you? Can you say something for once please? Tell her, that you will not have your Chinni Ma insulted this way. Can you tell her your priorities?...

He kept his head bent low...not a word...

I had never had anyone stand up for me - ever. So, Varun was no exception. I had thought he would be...but, this was my fate. So, why blame him.

I walked out of the room after what seemed an eternity...onto the terrace..into the darkness...

[To be continued....]

[Part I] - A Fist Full of Memories

"Sorry Chinni Ma" - the card read. Just seeing it and touching the card sent a shiver up my spine.

I found it afterall these years buried in a book that Varun had been reading.

Varun - my son. My step son to be politically correct. My biggest joy from my marriage to Arvind.Varun was Arvind's son from a previous marriage - he was about ten years younger than I was.

Arvind's first wife Charu was diagnosed with Multiple-Sclerosis, and had lost her mind dealing with it. Over time, she drove herself to a point of no return, and enstranged herself from all around her, till she ended her life on a summer morning...the day of her anniversary...it was 25th of May that day.

May 25th - a dark day in Varun's life...

People made their judgements of whether what she did was right or wrong, if she was good or bad, if she cared enough for her family or not. For her, nothing had mattered, she did what her heart had told her was right - she did what she believed was right...

While she was alive, in the process of suffering, Charu had forgotten that she had a baby, and had made Varun crave for maternal love...she did everything she could to drive him away from herself - maybe she thought it was better that way. who knows what she was thinking...

Me, a burden to poor parents, was married off in a rush to Arvind the minute I completed my graduation. Who cared what I had wanted in life? So, before I knew what had hit me, I found myself in a picture frame next to Arvind dressed in fine bridal attire. I looked beautiful, but if someone had paused to see my eyes, they would have seen the pain in my eyes - behind the kohl(kajal) that was used to decorate them.

The first day I landed there, Varun refused to talk to me. He sat next to me at dinner that night, but refused to acknowledge even my presence. As the meal progressed, I noticed that he hated vegetables, and was trying hard to swallow the carrots on his plate and looked like he would throw up - I quietly tugged at his hand under the table, and told him to pass the small pile to me. Quietly the carrots dissappeared into the trash! A secret pact was struck at that instant between me an Varun...

Since then, a million incidents tied us together - I forgot that Varun was not even born to me! We were the best of buddies...we shared little joys, silly secrets, and everything else that could tie two humans in our situation together.

On some nights after our meal, he would say "Chinni Ma, can I put my head on your lap and sleep for a few minutes?" On the terrace, he would bury his head in the pleats of my saree, and lay there looking at the stars - after what would seem like hours, I would feel his tears as they wet my saree. Those would be some days when Varun missed his mother, did not relate to his stranger father, and I really woulnd't know what troubled his little heart. He held on to me like a person drowning in a turbulent river would hold onto a branch of a tree. All I was aware was that this was a person who needed me, was someone who held on to me, and I meant something to him..

I called him my Prince...my baby.


"Chinni Ma, can you make me a cup of coffee please -half a cup only". "Chinni Ma, I want to join the literature club". "Chinni Ma, I've topped in the class again! Are you happy?" "Chinni Ma, I think I like this girl in my music class - what do you think of her?" "Do you think I did a good job Chinni Ma?".....always seeking my approval, my consent, my appreciation...

Right out of college, Varun found his first job in the City and moved out. The phone calls started to pour in - "Chinni Ma, guess what happened today..." I sat there wondering most nights - did my Prince have his dinner, did he like his new office, were people around him being nice to him...I had tranformed into a mom! A mom to my Prince...

[To be Continued....]

Relationships

A quote from Jiddu KrishnaMurthy on what relationships are:

"It is only when we see without any preconception, any image, that we are able to be in direct contact with anything in life. All our relationships are really imaginary – that is, based on an image formed by thought. If I have an image about you and you have an image about me, naturally we don’t see each other at all as we actually are. What we see is the images we have formed about each other which prevent us from being in contact, and that is why our relationships go wrong."

Ten Heads

Further to my previous post on this subject, the pain has really left a scar...we as a family feel it even now...

My little one wants to see this person and keeps asking for him, rather them...and the other weekend, when she said she has to talk to him right now, I had to sit down with her and explain to her that they don't want to talk to us now, because they kind of are not our friends anymore..and that upset her little heart. Mind you, these were friends of the family, and being suddenly in a position where she can't talk to him was very difficult for her to comprehend.

So, she pauses and thinks for a second, and says - "Is he now a bad guy like Ravana(an Indian mythological demon with ten heads who dis-honors Sita in the epic Ramayana) now? " For lack of better answers, I said "Kind of maybe"...

She stops playing with her doll, and with a very serene expression declares -
"Mama, I think God will punish him and he will grow ten heads soon".
I was surprised why she thought he would grow ten heads - and asked her the same. So, her answer was "Mama, that way the other good people will know he is a bad guy by looking at his ten heads, and stay away from him..."

I didn't know what to say...

But like innocence always triumphs...she still wants to see how this person looks now - now that he has turned into a different person we don't know anymore...

That's us - And me?

I'll wait with all my patience in this lifetime to see if this person grows those ten heads! Who knows...

Till then...take care of yourselves and your loved ones...

Of Liars, Cheats and Every day Heroes

We think heroes and villains exist in books and classics right? - No, they are here, amidst us - people who do the greatest sacrifices, the best for the others and still silently suffer all the misery and wounds inflicted by the others - the everyday villians who roam the earth untamed and their monsterous best...

Last week, while in the cafeteria, I met a friend whose little 3 year old was recently diagnosed with leukemia - just the sight of her shook me to the core, wanting to hold her crying for the misery she had to undergo - it felt so unfair...But, she was calm and wanted prayers from everyone - that's all. So calm and composed -I thought to myself that this was a hero - standing rock solid, and unwavering in the storm of bad times...

While people like the above fought valiantly the bigger miseries that life had to offer, an acquaintance recently joked that there should be a competition held countrywide to see who could lie the most...and little did I know that I would be thrown in situation with this person where I could see him lying through his teeth!

I thought I had seen it all - the worst that life had to offer - but I was wrong. I was once again chosen to be witness to the biggest let down, and at the same time be crucified and be called a hero!

I was conveniently made a part of a family melodrama - where I was taken advantage for being a good human and my trust and my belief in everything called a good relationship was torn to shreads with one sweeping gesture. For no fault of mine, I was hung - alive! The whole conversation was full of lies and baseless promises and that too coming from a person who I had thought was a great human and was made to realize was empty inside and had the lowest levels of integrity.

It shocked me, it surprised me, it hurt me, it catapulted me into unknown lands of pain and suffering - all for what? for trusting someone?

And with me, I dragged down my husband who had at all trying times stood rock solid next to me with all his love and with a hand around my shoulder. Never did he question me, or be angry with me - not because he does no love me. But, actually on the contrary because he loves me - that I call as strength of character. The other person whose little world I had rocked for an insensitive human, was my percious daughter - she doesn't know what has rocked the boat. But, she sure came up to me last night and wiped my tears saying " mama, I had so much milk today - I will surely grow strong and punish this bad person who is making you cry so much". This is what I call love - innocent and complete with no expectations whatsoever.

And this was a person who had pestered us to help him with his resume, had stayed in our home till 1AM in the morning to get essays written for him to apply to a business school, borrowed money from us and the list is endless - what a shame!. And, now suddenly they realize that they don't want to share their world with us? who gave them the permission to start when they wanted to and end when they wanted to?

I don't want to be a saint - I want to stand up and tell the world - tell that I was pushed into this, tell that I was used for everything that was meant to be gained, I was taken advantage of, and now when the time to stand by values, and tell the truth had come - this human chose the convenience of a lie...to conveniently continue to lead a life of so called bliss...

And the person has the audacity to stand around and laugh as if nothing happened...one of these days, I will walk up and scream the truth for the world to hear...

The beauty of it continues - when I went to talk to this person after a couple days, to find out what exactly had happened behind the scenes, I saw him again caught in a web of lies, continuing with his false promises while on the phone. He did not have the courtesy nor the courage to sit with me, look me in the eye and take the time to explain his wrong doing, and apologise for what he did to save a situation...he simply cried...for who? for the situation, for himself or for me? I don't know...

what kind of people are these? where do they come from? and where will they go? what are they made up of?

I pity them, I really do - I pity their weaknesses, their greed, their lose characters and their fake relationships - I will continue to forgive them - I will not bear any hatred nor wish them anything wrong. why? because I cannot be them and I do not want to be them - I want to be able to teach my child the good values of life - first hand not just in theory.

But, I hope sincerely that the greater force that rules this world, and we refer to as God is watching this injustice, this deceit and the lies and will surely do justice - will surely make them pay for the tears of blood shed by so many people hurt by them, make them realize that it is not enough to think they are smart to cheat people, and that they need to be human first...

I want the heroes to be cared for and the villains to be dealth with...for all the right reasons...

I have the faith that goodness will prevail - in all times and at all costs! For nothing else, but simply so that good people don't dissappear from the face of the earth, for the fear of being hurt...

The day will come...

Weaknesses

My little one came out from hiding behind the curtain...and she did not want to look me in the eye..and guess what? Sure enough, she had been eating candy and hated the fact that I had caught her. She immediately fell to the floor, kicked her tiny feet in the air, and screaming at the top of her lungs with her eyes closed shut!

I lost my temper, but immediately stopped myself - I just stood watching her and seeing what she was upto. When there was silence, and she saw that there was no sound in the room, she opened one eye just to check if I was looking at her or not...

I smiled to myself- and thought...wow! what a smart move! So, now instead of me scolding her for eating the candy, I would be pacifying her to keep her from crying and screaming!

In the end, I just held her and calmed her down. Then, she asks me "Mama, do you still love me?" Now, is this innocence or what? A minute ago I was dealing with a strategist, and now with this ball of innocence - I told her "Ofcourse, heartbeat - mama will always love you - no matter what"

She immediately breaks into a giggle and puts her right hand out - "okay mama, since you love me, can I get another candy P-L-E-A-S-E". ouch! I fell for it again! straight into her net :-) Now, I was negiotiating....then, I was blamed that I never gave candies, and that Nandini's mom always took care of her, gave her chips and coke and other junk that "big" people ate - and that it was my fault that everyone in the class called her a baby...She was only trying to grow up and be a "big girl"...

Life was good after the second candy...but, it got me thinking that aren't we all humans the same? We show our own faults to the others as their faults...

Why are we always trying to show the bad side of the other person - where, a situation arises - even a hairline crack appears like a crater!

Life is way too short...forgive, and let go...and then take a look at yourself in the mirror - you will see a beautiful person there - radiant and smiling!!!

Do Disposables Have a Heart too?

When was the last time you used a disposable fork and a knife? today, yesterday or a little while ago?

Next time you use it and are about it to throw it out - stop for a second and think - is it even remotely possible that even these disposables have a heart? How would they feel when they are used and thrown away because you no longer need them?

Funny - right? May not be - stop and think. Maybe that is what you are doing to someone else too. Is it even right?

Point to ponder...

Coup de grâce

I sat on the porch, sipping my coffee and watching my two grandchildren play in the front yard. A perfect summer afternoon. The setting sun was so very synonymous to my own life too. I smiled to myself.

Ravi and Ria were my son's children, and my only excuse to my prolonged existence. Life seemed to bestow upon me, years after years. Though they were 12 and 9 years of age respectively, they fought as if they were pre-schoolers.

"Grandpa...grandpa...Ravi killed the limping grasshopper. Can you believe it grandpa? How cruel can one be.I had only this morning decided to call the grasshopper Rosie, and had planned on how I could be her doctor and make her all well again. Ravi is terrible grandpa..." This was followed by loud sobs and a bigger tantrum.

I put my coffee cup to the side, cleaned my glasses, and put them back on. I got up, and went in to join everyone for dinner. Somehow, tonight I did not have the heart to finish what was on my plate. Without a second helping, and a cursory 'excuse me', I washed my hands and came back out onto the porch and sat on the swing. This had now become my favorite spot in the house.

The moon had risen high, and there was a gentle breeze. It was a typical summer night. I was lost in my thoughts - the past and the present seemed to be getting mixed up, and there was a blurr..

Soft gentle steps woke me from my cat nap, and I saw that Ria had come and sat down next to me with her feet propped in my lap. This was her way of feeling secure. The incident from the evening had visibly disturbed her. I cleared my throat, and said "Ria, aren't you sleepy sweetheart?" She shook her head.

"Grandpa, won't God punish Ravi for killing the grasshopper? Isn't it wrong grandpa? It was such a helpless creature, couldn't even walk. why did he have to do it?"

It seemed to touch me deep down somewhere. I could not stop myself anymore and I said "Ria, maybe he actually helped the little creature by doing so. It would have suffered with that broken leg, and would have died anyway without food and water. Have you thought of that?". She almost jumped in anger "grandpa, there you are - you are taking sides. You think Ravi is always right".

"No Ria, I'am not sweetheart. I'm sharing a lesson from my life with you baby". The pain and the tremble in my voice was palpable. She just sat there looking at me, and waiting for me to continue...

I was a neuro-surgeon with a great practice in the big city. Life was good, with a home, a wife, and two beautiful children. God seemed to have nothing else to do except wait for me to wish something, and he grant it immediately :-) Well, that's what it felt like when everything I did translated to riches - they said I had the Midas touch!

When I reached the hospital on that winter morning in January, I was shocked to see Saroja and Dilip. Saroja was on the stretcher and Dilip was on her side. Grim and impersonal as usual. It took me all the strength I had to not scream and cry out louad. My Saroja. I was shivering. Lying there unconscious - seeing her after all these years, and in this state?

I learnt that Dilip and Saroja were involved in an accident that morning on the way to their village and were brought to my hospital. The next few days passed quickly with quiet a few surgeries for Saroja, and one for Dilip. The discouraging part was that Saroja was not responding to anything - neither surgery or medicine. I was doing everything all my degrees had ever taught me, I spoke with all the good doctors I knew, and struggled with every bit of information I could collect which would in some way help her. I wasn't getting lucky. My tears and prayers were in vain too - God seemed to be busy now...

For that matter, I was never lucky - never where Saroja was involved. She was my classmate in school, and my neighbour too. Predictably, we had been in love for a few years even when I was completing my medicine, and she her degree course in literature. Her father who was a doctor too, helped me in all my studies and was greatly responsible for me to pass my exams with flying colors. But, upon bringing up the subject of marriage, our families made it very clear that nothing of that sort would be done - not even in their imagination.

In a few months, Saroja got married to Dilip and moved away to his village. Life seemed empty, useless and not worth living. But, I had to live on - and soon settled down with my responsibilities. But, not a single day passed without thinking of her. My wife knew about her, and forbade all contact with her. I tried telling her that I should keep at least a cordial relationship with them for the sake of gratitude and decency. But, it fell on deaf ears. The more she disliked Saroja, the more I dis-liked her - she did not realize this fact till she lived. Days kept rolling - I heard from one of the neighbours that Saroja was not well cared for by Dilip. I also heard that she was treated very badly by her in-laws too. After a few years learnt that she had two children of her own...and now this.

I sat by her bedside and kept looking at her beautiful face. Soft and gentle. Her lips had a smile hidden behind them even in this unconscious state. As I sat there, I felt that I was responsible for not taking a firmer stand in getting married to her - felt responsible for not being firmer with my wife, and had been in touch with her. Time had flown, and life had silently passed by - and who were the losers? Nobody but Saroja and me. I wish I had realized all this before today - before she was in this state where nothing mattered...I wish I had shared more laughter with her...

The panel of senior doctors gave their final verdict this morning - nothing could save her. It was all over. She could continue to live on a life system, but her brain was not alive anymore - just her body was. She did not have control on anything, and no feelings...nothing mattered anymore...

A week passed, and I clearly saw that Dilip was growing impatient with the circumstances. He seemed to question me every time our eyes met. He wanted to know what would happen now. What would he have to do with his wife now?

My heart seemed to burst with the pain and anxiety I felt just seeing her in that state - forget about thinking into the future. But, as a doctor I knew that I had to give her back to her family - to Dilip.

I could not sleep for the next couple of days. I had to decide. Make a decision for her - for me. For once, I had to stand up for her - at least now.

The Sun shone brighly as it rained. It was about 3PM in the afternoon. The sunshine and the rain-it was a weird sight. Nature seemed as confused as me. I quietly walked into the room where Saroja lay. I gently touched her cheek. I then touched her feet - just like the way I used to play with her toes when we were together, and she used to giggle. I pushed her hair away from her face and kissed her forehead. I whispered into her ear that I loved her and will always love her - and that I would be with her for all lives to come and if there was such a thing as re-birth. I then took a deep breath, and held her hand in mine. With my other hand, and with a determined move, switched off the life system she was on. Everything beeped for a second, and I thought she would just wake up and giggle - but nothing happened. Everything went silent - all I could hear was the ceiling fan. That's all it took. That was the end. In a few seconds, her hands went limp in mine.

My Saroja - I had let her rest in peace.

The years that followed were a nightmare. Guilt ruled my life. Then there was this side of me, which argued that if I had let her go back to Dilip and his family, her state would have been even worse. Maybe / maybe not. I don't know. Maybe her children would have cared for her? I don't know. Why didn't I think of keeping her with me? How could I? I don't know maybe I should have stood up for once and taken a stand. Well, I had taken a stand for her. Then I would think - taken a stand by doing what I did?

I do not know what is right or wrong anymore - but all I know is that I did what I did as someone who loved her, and maybe what a doctor would have done/ should have done.

I did not realize that tears were streaming down my cheeks and Ria had put my head on her little lap. She seemed to understand what I was going through. She rubbed my back and sat there silently. After what seemed hours, she simply said "Don't worry grandpa, you were not wrong".

My little Ria - she had suddenly become my mother, my daughter and my best friend. I had to journey through life with all the pain curdled up inside me to this day and now - open up my heart to my little Ria.

But she understood - as no one would probably ever have. The swing kept rocking gently, and the moon was hidden behind the clouds. The breeze was cooler now...

I don't know for how long I slept that night on my little Ria's lap...but today, I have the courage to look at my own eyes, and I have the courage to smile...I have the courage to live. I have the will to live - I have to live - for my little Ria!

The First Rain

Rain, rain, go away,
Come again another day.
Rain, rain, go away.
Come again some other day.
Little Me wants to play,
In the meadow by the hay.
Rain, rain, go to Spain...

Pitter..Patter..Pitter..Patter..the children's voices ring..and fade away...

The mud puddles everywhere, the school children walking back from the school, squeaking with delight every time one of them takes a jump in the water or a car passes by splashing water over them...

The first raindrops falling onto the parched land, the cool breeze and the smell of the earth! were just enough to bring out the element in me. No wonder I was a girl with the water sign. The sea, the waves, the rain everything transformed me into someone else in those few moments of laying my eyes on them.

I so vividly remember that we were in college, and the rains meant something else to me and my husband - well, not my husband at that time of course! We would sit for hours in the canteen, sipping the most horrendous tea, as if it was unadulterated nectar served and chat as if there would never be another day come by to talk our hearts out.Nostalgia - there is no cure for it!

Getting married, and moving on with our careers, we still continued to make the rainy days very special. Piping cups of coffee, sitting by the window and chatting up on the philosophies of life which by now had changed a little for both of us, somehow made rainy days very welcome.

Somewhere along the line, seasons came and seasons went, and we got busy settling our nest. Little fledgelings came to the focus and stayed there, we forgot what rains or any other seasons meant anymore.

After a decade of being married, we saw the first rain again one Sunday this season and for old times sake thought about taking a ride in the car. Just being alone in the car together felt awkward enough to even start a conversation. Every topic felt it was not worth being discussed after what we had to go through to get this time together again. He cleared his throat a million times making me wonder if he was coming down with a throat infection, which pressed the panic alarm in my mind - his infection would get passed on to the little one, and that meant at least 4 to 5 days of absence from work. So, I initiated the conversation and asked, "Are you okay?". He said "Yeah, just some allergies I guess". I accepted that.

These days, I have gotten used to accepting everything everyone tells me at face value. Either everyone around me has suddenly grown smarter, or I have comprised with life. Don't really know what happened, but the silliest explanation a friend gives about why I never got a call from that person for the longest time was gracefully accepted by me after months of fighting. Little does that person realize that it's not the replies that have gotten convincing, but it the fact that I have begun to realize that you cannot force anyone to do anything for you - and that this feeling may cease one day. The risk seems to be lost to oblivion.

Back in the car- my husband spoke about his work, his co-workers, his marathon and also what he thinks we should be doing next summer. He told me that we never got to talk much these days because he was so busy, how his life was full of tensions, and how people in his life were taking up too much time.

I just smiled and looked out of the window - who's life these days was simple? Mine, yours or anyone you or I know of? Nobody. All of us are a part of the rut - running away from self-created monsters and chasing our self-imagined dreams.But, still somewhere along we had bothered to tell another person that we had cared for each other, and what had suddenly changed? Was it even fair to change priorities without being informed? Even in a Kindergarten classroom, the five year old is warned that she/he will not be the star of the week in the coming months. That puts expectations right - don't you think. What gave the other person the right to change plans for the other just because...

All that I had wanted for him to say was "I miss you when it rains. I miss the time we shared together. Can we share a cup of coffee today?"

I know it will come...till then me and my coffee cup with share a thousand secrets...