TUM NAA JAANE KIS JAHAN MEIN KHO GAYE...

 

“I feel light today, but the heaviness pulls me back. The breeze wants to carry me with it, but the soil is too insecure to let go of me. The stars want me to twinkle next to them, but the plants demand my growth besides them. The moon wants me to sit on its craters and talk to it, but the animals here don’t want to let go of my chatter this soon. It is a dilemma with a fixed answer. It is a confusion with a road already taken. And it is a tragedy that changes one forever.”

Since I was a child, I had always understood death as an unpleasant concept, something which gave grief to the family and something which was irreversible, but I could never really understand what it really was. I knew of it as a journey unknown to man which one had to make irrespective of what they felt about it. As a kid, I believed in stars, and I was pretty sure that my ancestors looked upon me each night as they twinkled next to each other. As I grew up, I understood it as a journey which the soul makes on a non-materialistic path where it is rewarded or punished according to the karmas they did in their lifetime. But what really is death, I simply could not understand it, maybe because I had never seen death. My peripatetic mind always looked for answers in things, in people and most importantly in itself. On certain days, I wanted my what ifs to be answered and on other days, I was too ignorant to listen to the little voice that whispered them. Some days I wanted to see death closely, I wanted to know how it really worked, whether yam really came on a buffalo to pick the soul, what next…but I never wanted to experience it. I was too scared to wander in an unknown space without a hand to guide. I merely wanted to find the answers to my endless questions without harming anybody. Maybe it is rightly said that we should think twice before making a wish because we never know in what way it might get fulfilled…I however realized this a little too late.

I always wondered how one incident could change people forever, how one loss could make people value other things and how one forever could end in a fraction of seconds. However, today I understand all these and more…

I would always scold her for thinking about going too soon or talking about her not being there for my graduation or marriage. Somehow the thought of her not being around never made sense to me. We were all packing to leave for Jaipur since she was extremely ill and needed her family to be there beside her. My father had gone many days before and it was a chaos at home to arrange the bags and manage other things. I was talking over phone with a friend discussing some school stuff, simultaneously packing my bags, when I received a text in the Whatsapp family group from my father, ‘Mummy no more.’ For a minute, I could not understand what had happened. I refreshed my phone thinking lack of sleep was making me imagine things. But the text was still there, louder, and bolder than before. I took a deep breath as I realized I had stopped breathing. As I broke this news to my mother, I could see her eyes dwell with tears. Her tears wiped away all the second thoughts I had about that message and I knew she had gone. I knew the philosophy of life and that someday everybody had to leave, but I just couldn’t accept this truth. The very first thought I had was to rush up everything and travel to Jaipur immediately. I simply had to see her one last time, and more importantly I had to be there for my father. I blinked rapidly as I realized that my hot tears had been burning my cheeks all this while and I had to wipe them and get going. But somehow, I just couldn’t bring my hands to wipe my tears. Amidst tears I broke this news to my brother. For a minute, he thought I was playing a prank on him, but one look into my eyes and he knew that this was no joke. The next 12 hours were the longest 12 hours of my life, and I just couldn’t sit still till we reached Jaipur. It was like somebody had pulled the carpet from beneath me and I had fallen straight by my face. The only thing I was mentally preparing myself for was to not cry upon seeing my father and chachu. I didn’t want to make them weaker with my tears, especially in times like these. Upon finally reaching, my stomach felt sick and a thumping pain started in my head. I knew that I had been holding on for too long now and any time soon, I was going to vent out. And that’s exactly what I did. The second I hugged my father, it was like somebody had given permission to my tears to finally let themselves flow over my cheeks. For a moment I suddenly felt that maybe both of us could change the reality, maybe it was not just the end and maybe she would come back. But the second I pulled myself back, I was brought back to reality and knew that no power in this world could undo what had been done. After a lot of persuading, I convinced my elders to take me along with them to the hospital, since I wanted to see her one last time. I saw the sun set from my window on our way to the hospital, and for a weird reason, the sunset made more sense than ever to me. It was more than a scenic beauty, more than a temporary end to the day and more than a regular phenomenon. As I stepped out of the car, I found it difficult to breathe in this sunset, in the aura of the hospital where she breathed her last and, in the city, where she was happy last. The two-minute walk to the morgue was enough to prepare myself to see her for the last time, at least I felt so. As everybody entered one by one to get a glance of her face, I just couldn’t bring my feet to walk two steps to her. The body didn’t appear like hers to me. The woman who would always jump seeing us all, enveloping us with kisses was lying down motionless. Despite the self talk and mental preparation I gave myself, I couldn’t bring myself to see her face. My elders tell me her face appeared peaceful and shined a different glow, I wish I had shown just a little more courage that day to have seen her that day. That day is clear to me in a blurry manner. I remember her being carried away in front of my eyes, I remember my mother and bua crying as the van drove away, I remember my chachu trying to console us, I remember my brother holding my hand as we swallowed our tears, I remember my father holding onto her body till the very last. What I don’t remember is what happened next. It was like time had stopped for some time. It was like the world around had pressed a fast forward button, but we were all struggling within out slow motion. The next 13 days were a blur, and for the very first time I understood the meaning of family in a very different way. It was like with so much people, none of us had the time to wallow in our own misery, and on times of a breakdown somebody or the other was there to hold on to us as we cried vulnerably. There were days when none of us felt like talking, and the silence made us feel closer to each other. It was not easy to see the knees of the ones who had always stood strong go wobbly, neither was it easy to live under the same roof where she wanted to come back to. It was painful to see people I love cry, and it was more painful to see the others hide their tears. For the first time I didn’t have many questions regarding the customs and traditions we were following. For the first time floating along with the flow without bothering people with my endless queries seemed like a good option.

Not a day there went without missing her. My lips would often curve into a small smile and my eyes would become watery as I would remember the time spent with her. All the stories she ever told me appeared more realistic than ever, all the sweaters she ever knitted for me gave me more warmth than ever, all the little things she scolded me about made me smile as my hand slapped my head lightly, all those nights we spent talking made me want to crave for more of them, all the food she cooked for me tasted better than ever, and all the life lessons she gave me are forever enclosed within me. And all the little things made more sense to me more than ever.

Today she is united with the one person she loved the most, almost after 30 years of separation. Life has come to a full circle for her. All of us have started trying to move on with our lives. Her room today sleeps without her, her clothes feel another body and her other belongings find a new home. Her children miss her daily while her grandchildren are still trying to accept what happened. There are a few regrets and guilts within each one of us today, as we mourn and try to move on. Some said, others unsaid words suffocate us all. A bag of what ifs is too heavy for us to lift even together. We are all upset with God, at the same time are happy that today, she is free of all the pain and is happy. Everybody says that she is now a free star, free from the bondages of responsibility, free from the pain and free from this materialistic world. They say she lived her whole life, and today is at a peaceful place. But am I being selfish if I do not want her to be free? Am I asking for a little too much if I want her to come back and see me graduate or work my dream job? Maybe I am being selfish, maybe I am being senseless and maybe I am thinking of causing pain to her, but all I want is a few more minutes with her. A few more minutes to look at her and admire her for what she was, for what she had achieved; a few more minutes to comb her hair and try some funky hairstyle on her; a few more minutes to get her blessings as she said ‘jeete raho, khush raho’; a few more minutes to apologise for the conscious unconscious pain caused to her by me; a few more minutes to hear that favourite story of mine; a few more minutes to teach her how her phone functions; a few more minutes to go shopping with her; a few more minutes to hug her and tell her I love her…just a few more minutes…

With her gone, our world is not the same. It has shrunk even more and daily misses her presence. With her gone, the eldest hand of blessing has been replaced with a star that is constantly there for us. Some of us have mentally accepted this truth while others still can’t believe it. Some of us have grown more mature, while others find immaturity their refuge. Some of us have had the liberty to shed tears while others are still holding up. It’s like one incident has turned our world upside down. Today, I might not hold the answers to the questions I have, but I have the experience that broke me and made me realise the importance of life. It has made me realise that nobody is constant. It has made me realise to accept my mistake before it is too late. It has made me realise that there are people I love and care for. And most importantly it has made me understand what death brings with it…

If her epigraph were to be ever be engraved, it would say, “I am still their mom, and I still rule…” She is present within us all, in our tears and in our laughter, in our love and in our faith. She is not merely a star now, rather she is the sun that rises daily, the birds that chirp their way along, the holy cow that has the cure to problems, the trees that give shade to everybody, the moon that is there even on Amavasya, and the clouds that make us all think differently. Until next time, she is going to be remembered each day in our prayers and memories, and all of us are striving to make her proud each day, spreading the love she shined of…