STORY : DEMISE OF RELATIONS

STORY : DEMISE OF RELATIONS

CHAPTER 1: A JOURNEY TO LAERNING

At eight, his favourite pass time was to question his father. He thought his father knew it all, like most kids. There was something unique about his relation with his father. He was very scared of him. Short tempered and very impulsive, he was not too sure when to be with him or not. He however, realised that his father was never impatient with him. Something that he could never figure out why, for his father was easily irritable with most persons.


It is amazing that memory of childhood are more vivid when you are middle aged than in teens and twenties. Recall is automatic. Any happening can trigger recall. We are far more emotional. Tears easily roll down cheeks at recall of good as well as bad memories!

Ram, his father, would often ask him to come for a walk with him when he returned from the college after teaching for eight hours. He was always thinking or planning. Walks will be quiet, till I would ask a question. He will suddenly become very attentive. His deep voice will appear to be coming from a distance. Slow and very methodical. No trace of hurry. No irritation. That's why I would always ask questions. For, the very soothing communication was only incentive for those long boring walks.

It was a nice day. Sun was bright and breeze was cool. I asked Ram, why do friends don't get along? Why relations break? I asked because I had fight with my friend.

He took time and then said, let us sit down. Something that never happened before. Walks were always long and brisk and there was no stopping. I would run to keep pace with him.

He looked at me and said,"Be prepared, because many relations die in our life time. Some may impact you and even incapacitate for some time. You need to know that you have to gather yourself and move on."

And a long pause. He started again. Some are natural deaths. Your grand mother died when I was only nine. I have very faint memory. Many years I dreamt a lady in white saari would lift me, cuddle me and I would wet the bed. I cried whenever I saw this dream. My father and step mother thought that I was crying because of shame. It is very difficult to explain impact of loss. My family would sometime scold me, not understanding why it happened. Emotional impact of a loss of relation could be huge.

I did not know how to react. I could see my very strong father little melted. I felt the hurt that he had. I forgot about fight with my friend.

We returned home slowly. My father made me sit on his shoulders. We barely talked. I had seen a very different side of my father that I liked even more. I felt like spending my whole day with him, everyday. What struck me most was his honesty. His ability to expose his weaknesses of childhood.

I still was confused about how to deal with a loss. I still wanted to know more about him. How he managed. How did he overcome his loss? How he became such a strong man, almost invincible. Never giving up. Very optimistic. Restlessness was almost killing. I wanted to know it all, yet lacked courage to talk to him. I could not sleep.

Walks did continue. I could not muster courage to ask him more about his mother or about relationships. If relationship runs deep, fear of loosing that runs deeper. We develop extraordinary senses of understanding "unsaid". We long to keep relationship from hitting any air pocket.

It was a sunny morning. I was barely up. Tossing and turning in bed. Mom was trying to get me off bed. This is one thing my mom could not do well. She was very loving and could be taken from granted. So, to avoid, initially ignore and if that does not work get angry with her in a way that it just does not reach father's ear. If it does, all he would do is say, "Laksh come here" and it worked like an electric shock. Jump out of bed and go to him. Normally, he would say, "Get ready". On way to bathroom, mom would be smiling with an expression,"Told you!". However, it was different this time. He said,"Laksh let us go for a walk".

I instantly knew he would talk about something interesting. Instant happiness and I was ready in less than a minute. He was smiling. The communication of 'unsaid'.

Soon we hit the regular trail, he started. Loss of relationship is difficult to deal with. I think there are three ways. Feel very sad about it. Or work to rub the memory off and ignore. Thirdly, let memory be part of life, a happy part.

First path leads to lot of complications. You get depressed. Even good memory recall brings tears. It eventually may lead to psychic problem. This is not certainly a nice way to lead life.

Second path can be adopted by very self centered persons. How can you ignore memories of someone you loved. This is probably highest meanness.

Third is probably the bravest and most natural way to live. You let memory recall happen as and when it happens. Treat those memories with sense of attachment and feel what you would have felt when person was still around. Celebrate memories. You know when I feel very strongly about your grandma, I go and sit by the lake, alone, and enjoy remebering her.

This puzzled me more, though, answered one question. I always wondered why my father avoided me some days and went alone. He went to meet his mother.




CHAPTER 2 : VALUE OF RELATIONSHIP


That walk changed a lot in Laksh's life. Every child desires to be friend of it's father. The bond that develops before birth has ultimate goal to eternal friendship. Yes, Laksh instantaneously understood the change. In the evening, when he met Mohan, he confided in him that his father shares everything with him. Mohan immediately became sad and said, "You are so lucky. I too want to become my father's friend"


Strange though, most kids are good friends of their mothers for mothers naturally know how to grow friendship with kids. Fathers normally struggle.

Laksh had many good friends. Virendra, Mohan, Anurag, Rachna, Surendra, Anand and Somesh. Somesh was most unique and different. He never had any view on anything. He would patiently listen and agree. Ideal to be a good friend. He would never argue and would show admiration for smallest achievements of any friend.

Somesh’s mother was very kind and affectionate.

Somesh and Laksh would spend lot of time together each day talking, watching movies, cycling and of course gossiping. Somesh did not know how to swim. He wanted to. So we would often go to nearby pond and I would teach him for hours. In few days he became confident.

One day, while I was busy finishing home work, Virendra came rushing. “Laksh Somesh drowned in nearby pond. He swam twice full length of pond and just sank in third one.” We rushed to the pond. Divers were trying to recover body. I was numb. I was hoping that he was still alive. I was hoping for miracle.

Body was brought up after three hours. All of us were inconsolable. We were sobbing. We were confused. I had a question in my mind. Why did God not save him. He was so innocent, so nice and so pure. Why did he die?

We stayed awake whole night along his dead body. No one was talking, yet the noise of unsaid was deafening. Everyone was quietly questioning God. Everyone was crying loudly in heart.

I did feel guilty. Why did I teach him swimming? There was overwhelming feeling of somehow get him back to life. Will chanting mantra taught by mother would help?

Next morning, funeral rituals commenced. The body was bathed and wrapped in new clothes. We all walked to the holy place with the body and consigned the body to flames. All this while, my father was with us, from pond to funeral. He held our hands and occasionally wiped tears from our faces. He too loved Somesh. However, I could not see any trace of sadness in him. He was quiet and served tea and coffee to all. Every time, I looked at him, he was kind of comforting through a smile like gesture. We never talked about Somesh. Initially, I visited his home. His mother would hold my hand and cry. It was painful. I could not take it anymore and stopped visiting her.

Several years later, one day, when I visited my parents during holidays, my father said,”Let us go to Somesh’s house. His mother wants to see you.” I reluctantly accompanied him. She greeted me with an affectionate smile and said,”My one son died and other deserted me.” She laughed and continued, “You know Laksh, your father comes here everyday. We talk about you and Somesh. He told me that you are deeply hurt and stopped visiting us to avoid his memories.”

I looked at my father. He too was smiling. I asked, ”Do you visit her every day?”

He took a pause and said, “Yes. One of us had to.”


CHAPTER 3 : RELATIONSHIP AND COMMITMENT

Laksh and his father returned back. He was not able to sleep. Felt miserable. He failed the very first lesson his father gave. “Highest Meanness” of erasing memories of a dear friend who died. His father’s words echoed loudly in his mind. I did let down my father. He did imagine himself in his father’s role. How did he feel about his son? A mean, selfish person. All accomplishments academic excellence, great career and wealth he created, appeared very small against this meanness.


Next morning he got up early. His father was sipping a cup of tea in the lawn. He went to him and said, ”Dad, let us go for a walk”. His father looked at him. Same gracious smile, he nodded and said, “Would you not have breakfast”. He insisted. Both started walking towards pond. His father was as always brisk. He was lagging behind. He desperately wanted to hold his dad’s hand, like he always did as a child. His adult ego stopped him.

His father suddenly stopped and caught his hand. He started walking again, pulling him along. He, first time in his life realized value of confession. We confess because it removes the guilt. It is very selfish way of relieving yourself from all wrong doings. He had no courage to confess about his meanness. However, ‘unsaid’ confession began moment his father touched his hand. There was a sense of relief. A sense that he might be forgiven.

They reached the pond and sat down there. After a brief silence, his father said,”Laksh, like any good father, I too want to you to be successful. Probably rich and famous. However, I feel it is more important to be a good human being. A man filled with lots of love. Someone who can be very reassuring. Someone who can heal others through his love and passion.” Laksh was not able to respond. He just nodded. He was trying to concentrate. He wanted to know how his father felt during seven long years when he visited Somesh’s house and probably felt Laksh should have.

“What should we do if a relation has to end because the person is not good”, He asked his father. “Relationships do end sometime because of misunderstanding”, his father said. “The very fact that a relationship began means that there was a good reason for that. However, incompatibility, dishonesty and at times selfishness can cause relationships to break. It is important that we should not be bitter or critical of the person, we had relation with. We must objectively evaluate and try to conserve. Even if it breaks, the memories should be cherished. In case same person needs your help at later stage, you should. Important is not how others behave, but, how we behave. It is about us being selfless and nice.”

This was the second lesson. Laksh knew that he could not fail his father again.




CHAPTER 4: JOY OF FORGIVENESS


It was amazing. I could not sleep again, the next night. A strong realization persisted that I was missing something. I probably needed to rethink the truth behind purpose of living. I probably needed a break from this life. I decided to extend my leave. I needed to learn more about life, my father and myself.


We went for a walk the next morning again, to our favourite spot, the pond. My father was looking in the water, as I was looking at him, impatiently waiting for him to speak. He slowly turned his head towards me and smiled. He had this ability to read me, and read me completely.

He started talking.

“It took me many years to conquer my fears - greed and more importantly, negativity. The journey was tough and tiring. I failed many times. I felt like giving up many times. These forces often tend to overtake all our resolves.”

It wasn't making much sense to me, nonetheless I enjoyed listening to him. I concentrated hard. I knew he was teaching me lessons of life, in his own unique way. He talked about only his experiences and experiments. He never quoted anyone else.
He continued after a long pause. “You know Laksh, when my mother was dying, I was by her side with my father. My mother knew that death was approaching her. She held my father’s hand and said, ' I have given you my best. I tried to be very good wife to you.' My father had tears in his eyes. All he could say was, 'I know, don't go away'. It appeared that my mother didn't pay attention to that as she continued talking, 'Our son was born after ten years of our marriage. He is God's gift to us. My father kept nodding understandingly. She continued,'I will die shortly. Please promise me that you will not get married again. You will look after our only child.' I was surprised. All mothers are very protective about their children. I realized that even laying on her death bed, my mother's greatest fear was me, and not the approaching end. I can recall her face very vividly. She looked desperate. Probably because she wanted to protect me. My father promised to keep this wish. She still looked concerned. She passed away...

Barely six months later, your grandfather married a young girl in her early twenties. I was very scared about this change. She was not able to reconcile with the fact that she had to marry a widower in forties. She would often complain to my father about me. Initially he would scold me. But as the complaints increased with time, he often bashed me up. He angered me - the most because my father broke the only promise he made to my mother. I realized that perhaps that's the reason why mother still looked unbelieving of his promise. She knew he wouldn't keep up to it. Thats why she looked so concerned even after my father promised. I saw myself developing feelings of hatred and anger."

“But dad you respect your step mother a lot.” I interrupted.

He ignored my question and continued. “ My new mother was occasionally very nice to me, especially if I was battered badly. She would cook my favourite dishes. I failed to understand this side of her because if she wanted she could have saved me the pain by not complaining, in the first place. But I wouldn't deny that I also did enjoy the treats.” He looked at me and smiled. I did not see any trace of pain on my father’s face. He was calm, composed and in fact disconnected with his painful past.

“Dad how many times were you beaten up?”

“I don’t remember”, He said. “Over the years I have practiced to erase these negative feelings. However, I do remember my step mother treating me with my favourite dishes.”

Curious to know, I asked again, “And how many times do you think she treated you with your favourite dishes?”

“Fifteen times.” He said.

“Almost once a month...”, I said. He smiled and said, “No, fifteen in all. Once a year. But, memory of each of these treats I treasure and cherish because I thoroughly enjoyed them, impatiently waiting for the next one. You grandmother is not selfish. She was simply hurt. She over reacted. She did not know any other way to express her frustration. She was very young and tender when my father married her. I realized that much later. “

“I did not see you disrespecting grandpa either. Did he ever express regret for his actions?” I asked.

“He did. He confessed just before his death. Your grand mother was also present there. He said to her, “I should not have exerted pressure on your poor parents to marry you to me. I spoilt two lives by one wrong action.”

Your grandmother and I did not know how to react. We quietly listened and walked out. She held my hand and took me to a nearby temple. She was inconsolable. She was weeping and shaking. I was unable to understand the reason for it. Your grand father didn't say anything we all didn't already know. It was a matter of fact. She looked at me and affectionately said, ”I am sorry.”"

“Do you think confessions are justified? Is it not being selfish? Doesn't one confess just to get over the guilt that eats them up”, I inquisitively asked.

“ Probably not. I think, confessions are prayers. You pray for peace. It helps remove the baggage of past off our backs and allows us to start afresh. We need to realize that human lives are governed by greed, fear, temptations, often at cost of others, and regret. We need to conquer these forces. Once you conquer them, you will feel so light, it's like floating in air. Complete weightlessness. We should grow above these harsh feelings. We have to avoid negativities with all our strength. You must learn to forgive those who have hurt us mainly because they did not have control on themselves. Forgiveness gives eternal peace. We need to be compassionate. We need to work towards forgiving.” He stopped and kissed me on the forehead.

We walked back. Both of us knew that my journey to eternal peace had begun.


CHAPTER 5: TO BE GOOD OR NOT TO BE


Another day, same spot, below a tree by the pond, my father was again talking to himself and I was listening.


“To be good is very important. If you are not a good son then you cannot be a good husband or a good friend or a good human being, for goodness is a virtue that cannot be attached to a role. It takes lot of effort and energy to become good. Temptation of leaving this virtue is always overpowering. Trick lies in staying firm despite the excuses that would visit you such as if my friend was not good why should I be good to him.” He paused.

I was able to understand him very well. The insight into his youth and his un-flickering goodness has been intriguing as well as inspiring.

“Am I a good son?” I could not resist asking him. He smiled. Then kissed my forehead. “You are one in the making”.

Nothing could be more disappointing than this for me. It was instantly visible on my face. He was very comforting, “It takes time. It took me many years. However, I am very proud of your achievements both academic and in job. You are on the right track”.

I was disturbed. I wanted to understand my father’s expectations. I also knew that he would not directly tell me. It was uncharted journey and I had to be my own pathfinder.

To be continue.......