Tuesday 19 July 2016

Some stories never end...

The torch on the bed under the pillow. The spectacle case neatly arranged next to the day’s newspaper... The pile of neatly folded laundry. Everything looked just the same, but the silence came from the blank TV screen. The silence came from the stationery walker which now held his last worn dhoti and vest...   I could no longer sense the lingering smell of the sandalwood powder.... It was his trademarked aura. 

The pictures of the divine powers in their myriad forms all looked at me benevolently, and the forms all slowly turned into the many faces he used to cajole, threaten, and worm his way into people’s thoughts and hearts.  

A commander ....... Said one of the persons who clung to me tightly.. he sang away to the nurses, complained about the lousy food at the hospital, but also used his famous pick up line, “I have met you before...”


He had his beatific smile on his face when his pressure fell alarmingly. And when he finally decided to move on, all his grandchildren stood around him and sang that one song that he had made up for their lullaby when they were babies.... Nani ma nani ma nani manni nani ma naani ma ni.... The room resonated with his presence in our hearts... He was around. Some stories have no ending. Neither does this one.

Appa...

When I touch the wet mud to replant my roses I think of appa, for he inculcated in me the love for gardening.

When the light flickers  I remember appa because he taught me to to change a bulb, replace a fuse or repair a plug.

When the tape gets stuck in my recorder, his voice calls me out to use a cellotape to stick the pieces together. 

He taught me to ride a bike.and be independent....
To polish my shoes...
To iron my clothes....

When I see evenly, finely cut raw mangoes for pickle...
When I don't get math sums right...
My knuckles remind me of his stern discipline when it came to math formulae.

He taught me skills. He taught me it's good to enjoy good things and be happy. He taught me to laugh at myself, when he would talk broken hindi, and we would make fun of him. He taught me to love animals, he taught me it's okay to cry...and he taught me to be who I am today. I miss you... But I miss more, the fact that I can never say good bye to you again and have you cry like a baby anymore. But rest in peace appa. You are the angel who is going to smile all the time now.