No, Please!

He is one of the closest men that I have and I don't have too many. His interest in reading and the manner of reacting quick, be it for appreciation or for criticism, is well known and at times created a bit of a fear in some people too. But he is always jovial and quick to make friends wherever he is and I envy him slightly for that. Simply clad and outspoken mostly, one can discount him as just another individual without anything great about him. I know that he is different but.

We talked about various things that day which included his health issues, of which he was very clear and I could see that concern in his voice that disturbed me. I reassured him, knowing well that I don't know much about his condition, hoping that he would be alright. But that sort of made him feel easy. "Hopefully it would be alright soon as you say!", he said. Then our talks drifted to other things that included cricket and current affairs of which, I had to get an updated information from him. I don't know how this topic started, but I found it a bit odd in him. He seemed to hate Horlicks at all times. Even when he was sick, he did not like to receive it, but out of general courtesy, did not say anything to those who came to see him with it. "Its just that I can't have it!", he said once. I didn't force him too, acknowledging it just as it was.

The reason behind it unfolded at an unexpected moment and left me just as an emotional mess. My eyes did not shed tears then, for I was too numb [as always] and all I did was to just place my hands on his shoulders, though I was not sure whether it was a sign of support to him or for myself. Now thinking, I am sure that it was to regain myself. That day was an important one for him and he shared with me the reason which he did not, for no reason [It just happens that we don't share all things to anyone however close. Right?].

"It was this day sixty one years back that my father passed away!", he said. I was startled a bit, because, apart from the yearly ceremonies that he did to his father, I knew pretty less about him. "I was about 17 then, just having passed S.S.L.C. and it was about 03.00 p.m. in the afternoon. I was the only one by his bed in the hospital where we admitted him. I did not know that his state was that bad and hoped that he would get back well. I was then feeding him Horlicks and glucose water at times and he said "Enough!" to me. I stopped, but looked at the tumbler where some Horlicks was left. He closed his eyes and turned his head aside while I gulped it. That was when he passed away! I know its absurd, but to me, my act of consuming that Horlicks seemed to have a part in that event and from that day, I never had it!", he concluded.

After a pause, he said, "At 17, it was all too much for me. Mom was a simple one and did not take the news well. Also, we had just moved to Chennai and stayed for rent in a house. They had said no to taking dad's body in. Those were the days where it was not that great deal to live in a rented house. After a few visitors came and left, we did the last rites in the hospital backyard which led to the burial ground. We were not allowed to take the body through the other entrances. And I walked all alone, in the lonely path that led from the burial ground to the main road, which was about a furlong and more. When I reached home that night, my neighbours came and one of them exclaimed that the path I took was not used by many for the fear of ghosts, but then, I did not see or feel anything odd then. I did feel much more knowing how we were cheated, by a few relatives and friends later on!". He did not elaborate further. I was speechless. At 17, when his studies were not complete, he had to lead a family of a simple mother and 3 younger siblings. Through some help, he did, but never boasted about any of these even to his own children. "What is there in life, dear? After we go, its just a bowl of ash. Isn't it?", he ended.

While tears wet my cheeks even now, I feel so proud of having him, as my dad.

 

Please do accept my pranams Vijima, for all that you did for your dad then. I entirely agree to what you say and feel sorry for you even now, as I know how much of a trauma it would have brought you then. Losing someone dear is like losing one of your parts. You will always be worried about the missing one and it takes ages to get back again. And you were spot on about how they coped up with difficulties that were greater than their life and came out successful. Thanks for your first feedback. -rgs

 

That was a very nice feedback Satchi. I too have some beliefs which I can't prove anyway, but stick to them. I just wondered how simple my father is, that he shared things like this which he kept close to his heart, so easily. Through out the conversation, he never cried and I was too overwhelmed to react. We do associate a few things with what we experienced at a particular time. Yes. Some mental illnesses are cured once the doctors identify the objects that drove the affected ones out of themselves. And that reminds me one more. Are we all not insane to a degree? Thanks for your feedback. -rgs

 

Sorry SwathiIyer, had I made you feel sentimental about this. Thanks for your feedback. -rgs

 

I second your last sentence Aspire. He may not have got me all things I wanted, but never missed out what I definitely needed. And his mindset and attitude are the ones that I like to have any day. How ironic it is! I came from my parents but never like any of them! In there lies my own uniqueness perhaps. And my shortcomings too. Thanks so much for your feedback Aspire. One thing is sure as I write this. I may not be sharing my innermost thoughts with my kids if I were to live to that age. I am sure of it. I lack the courage even now. -rgs