Archive for relatives
Day 10,214 – Monday – 10 Bhadra 1930 – 29 Shaban 1429 – 01 September 2008
Well, its not like I like to whine. Or that SS (ADs wife SSs ex boss) calls me whiny. Or NW my colleague calls me whiny. Or that NA and AH call me whiny. I dont like to whine. I may whine, but then there are always reasons. And, please dear God, I whine a lot less than the rest of my friends whine. You should hear some of them whine. Basically, shut the fuck up, I dont care what you think I am not whiny.
I shall present an example to prove to the rest of you that I am not whiny and when you do think that I am whining you are wrong and you dont know the full story. And I am right.
I had to go pick up my sister from a wedding in the middle of the night. I go there an lo and behold she and my cousin (over from the US) are not picking up their cell phones. Why the fuck does one buy a cell phone? So that when your brother calls you at 0030 hours you can pick it up and tell him that you will be out of the place and seated comfortably between his clutter in his car within the next 23 seconds. It obviously did not happen. And ten missed calls later I just went into the wedding hall. I was told that since everyone is dancing and enjoying that I should wait for them.
I did. For an hour.
I realize that with my consistent development on the ladder of age my general level of hatred towards merry making, happiness, smiling people, dancing and other activities that humans like to entertain themselves has been increasing. Hence, my utter, undiluted and complete hatred of the mehndi.
My sister (and my cousin) think that I am a prudish idiot who has no idea how to enjoy life any more and needs to learn to enjoy whatever life has to offer; a strangers mehndi and wild dancing by a group of people I dont know and can easily hate from quite a distance included.
I think ill just take over her part of what my parents leave us and tell her to go enjoy dancing at her friends mehndies. I guess I am a bit too irritable for someone who seem to have been flitting around the office like a drunk hyena giggling at the top his lungs all day long.
Day 10,084 – Thursday – 04 Vaisakh 1930 – 17 Rabi us Sani 1429 – 24 April 2008
Life moves on; along all the one million channels known to our conscious being. Work, family, friends, love, home, office, food, music, books, television, movies, society, culture, traditions, religion, activism, freedom, slavery, anger, hatred. All the one million channels through which our existence passes on a daily basis. The threads that define our being human, our being normal, our being what we are as individuals and as members of a larger whole. Enjoying the unpredictable ebb and flow of the tides of our life’s currents we forget life. We walk past new experiences, beautiful feelings and wonderful ideas.
Then, there is the inevitable, the final departure, the ending blow, the advent of the angel of death. That brings all to a stand still and each and every moment is as strong as years. We cherish a commodity that we felt very cheap moments ago. Life.
The presence of death makes life all the more poignant.
My father’s counsin’s husband passed away last night. Great man. Without being involved in my life he made major changes in my life. This makes him my second mentor to leave this world in the past six months. What a loss. My current profession is basically due to him. One day I got a letter to sign. Signing it meant a complete change of profession and work life for the rest of my life. My father called this guy up to ask him for advice. And, he gave one heck of a piece of advise. He was an incredibly successful guy, but more importantly, he was the cause of success of others as well. What else can be asked for?
There were all the usuals. Rushing to the hospital late last night. The Namaz e Janaza when it finally hits you that the loss has taken place. Then the graveyeard. The dust. The graves. The feeling of such peaceful serenity. The final resting place. It is haunting to say the least. More so because one feels a certain bond with the peace and looks forward to the eternal departure. Not proactively, but the setting effects. But the most haunting part is the grave. So true for all of us. It is indeed where we will all go. Such a small place. Forever. Eternity. Cool, moist soil. And at the end of it all, you slide your hands ever so slightly into cool, dry, dusty soil. The fingers grazing the texture of the soil. The soil that you are to become a part of. And then the final throw. A fistful of soil thrown on the grave of a loved one.
The final departure. Such a small act. Such a complete goodbye. Forever.
Life is so precious. Yours, and that of everyone else. Enjoy it, while the tune of life plays. Gather a huge treasure of memories of your loved ones. That is all that will worry you in your final time.
Although I am still sad for his demise. I will not let go of his words. I will live a wonderful life. I will make every bit of my life beautiful, and give everyone else the same advice. Your life is beautiful, make it so.