OCT-1st- "WORLD ELDERS DAY"- a tribute

ambika ananth · Oct 1, 2005

LAMP OF LIFE’S DUSK

"I am a little busy, I may not be able to come over.... I am observing the ‘pitrupaksha rituals....he told me over phone, cancelling his programme to meet me. ‘What.....?! pitrupaksha rituals.. ? I mumbled in pained surprise and cut the line. This is the same man who had made fun of his father’s senile ways and detested going to the hospital with him when he developed oral cancer. “I can’t stand the stench, I carry agarbattis in my pocket when I enter his room and spray myself generously with a deodorant after coming out ....!” The unending complaints about his father when he was alive or rather dying with cancer and now glorifying him in death, is it for some ‘punya’ in higher world or for praises in this world ?! Rituals performed during pitrupaksha are based on ‘shraddha’ i.e., faith and respect acknowledging ‘that’ what actually made us what we are today.

Almost all parents believe that their children are great ‘miracles’, but how many children once they grow up and make forays into the wide world and feel ‘Big” acknowledge the effort of parents as “miracle-workers”? Very miniscule percent of them do and I very recently had the fortune of meeting one son from that miniscule percent.

Three or four days back (incidentally during pitrupaksha) near mekhri circle, due to a traffic jam ahead, vehicles were moving at snails pace, bumper to bumper. “Don’t stare but observe, you may develop an eye for people and places..” my high school teacher’s advice I sincerely follow and usually I witness something which will act like a touch stone. Looking around, I saw one young man carrying an old man astride on his strong shoulders; he was not hurrying, but was taking his steps very carefully. I observed him for sometime, instinctively I asked my husband to pull the car to the side and I got down and crossed the road to his side.

“Eenappa lift beka... ? ( do you care for a lift ? ) I asked him. He looked at me, smiling he showed his hand to the right and said that their house is close-by. On questioning he also told me that the old man is his father who is a heart patient, a hypertensive man and recently had developed boils on his legs. Weekly once, he carries him like this to the doctor’s clinic cause he can’t afford to engage an auto and public conveyance is cumbersome and painful for his father. He tugged at my heart-strings by his statement. “ My father used to carry me as a child like this while climbing Tirumala Hills, now roles have reversed..he is my child now...eenanthiya appa...” ?! ( what do you say, appa ) he playfully tickled his fathers foot. Seeing the toothless grin of the old man, I realised that he is one lucky father who is being looked after by his son, now and here, he may not receive elaborate rituals after death but his son is painting love colours on his life’s landscape, when it really matters. Silently wishing them more years of mutual love and care I crossed the road to get back into the car.

“Life’s dusk brings it’s lamp along” they say, yes, it shines in the form of caring off-spring.....

Ashna · Oct 6, 2005

Lamp Of Life’s Dusk

Hi Ambika,

This article has true essence of life in it. Children observe Pitrapaksha for their elders but never had time for them when they were here with them....they try to make all eatables liked by their parents but when they could really eat it same children didnt have time to make those savouries ...... but there is one more thing what we do to our parents...we will get back from our children and thats circle of life..... here's the story that comes to my mind every time i think about such Children or would say elders in our society:
A frail old man went to live with his son, daughter-in-law, and a four-year old grandson. The old man's hands trembled, his eyesight was blurred, and his step faltered. The family ate together nightly at the dinner table. But the elderly grandfather's shaky hands and failing sight made eating rather difficult. Peas rolled off his spoon onto the floor. When he grasped the glass often milk spilled on the tablecloth. The son and daughter-in-law became irritated with the mess. "We must do something about grandfather," said the son. I've had enough of his spilled milk, noisy eating, and food on the floor. So the husband and wife set a small table in the corner. There, grandfather ate alone while the rest of the family enjoyed dinner at the dinner table. Since grandfather had broken a dish or two, his food was served in a wooden bowl. Sometimes when the family glanced in grandfather's direction, he had a tear in his eye as he ate alone. Still, the only words the couple had for him were sharp admonitions when he dropped a fork or spilled food. The four-year-old watched it all in silence.

One evening before supper, the father noticed his son playing with wood scraps on the floor. He asked the child sweetly, "What are you making?" Just as sweetly, the boy responded, "Oh, I am making a little bowl for you and mama to eat your food from when I grow up." The four-year-old smiled and went back to work. The words so struck the parents that they were speechless. Then tears started to stream down their cheeks. Though no word was spoken, both knew what must be done. That evening the husband took grandfather's hand and gently led him back to the family table.
For the remainder of his days he ate every meal with the family. And for some reason, neither husband nor wife seemed to care any longer when a fork was dropped, milk spilled, or the tablecloth soiled. Children are remarkably perceptive. Their eyes ever observe, their ears ever listen, and their minds ever process the messages they absorb. If they see us patiently provide a happy home atmosphere for family members, they will imitate that attitude for the rest of their lives. The wise parent realizes that every day that building blocks are being laid for the child's future.
Let us all be wise builders and role models. Take care of yourself, ... and those you love, ... today, and everyday!

ambika ananth · Oct 7, 2005

thanks

Dear Ashna

Very very touching story you have sent in your response...reading it my eyes filled with tears and heart with pain ...though we hear often about such callouness in children, each time there is a fresh pain felt...why do children become so insensitive and uncaring towards their parents, knowing fully well that the cycle is bound to repeat....?
Very good story Ashna..thanks for posting it
ambika