It was 5 in the evening and I woke up from siesta to
thunderous clouds. Even as I got off from bed thinking about the wonderful
sight of rain in my balcony, a parallel thought in my head erupted. I had done
laundry and clothesline in my backyard was full of fresh conditioned clothes, to
get crisp in the afternoon sun. My mother was watching the showers, sitting on a
chocolate-colour bean bag in our living room. Dad lay in another bedroom fast
asleep after running some errands, in total darkness. No one in my family can
sleep with slightest lights on. It is risky at times, especially with the kind
of power-cuts we face. But then, old habits die hard or may never die. The
parallel thought of ruining laundry completely smothered the other one.
I couldn’t bear that both my mum and dad were totally
oblivious to my labor of love. And then I burst with my angry disappointment.
Both of them have aged. But for some reason, I fail to acknowledge this truth.
And I ignored that at this moment too. My dad who was sleeping woke up hearing my loud mumbling voice to myself and helped me fetch clothes back. This was
closest I came to making my biggest display of bad behavior and what happened
then was a memory that won’t fade. Not easily.
I went back to my room and continued watching television
that I’d fallen asleep watching. Since I’ve chosen to stay off-work for a
while, I look for things to keep me busy. Mostly they revolve around workouts, reading
or surfing on my laptop - while TV plays for company. And yes, thinking - whether or not to pick a job for financial comfort, and this guy I so love talking to every night. I just feel he sees in me what no one has so far. But I won’t go into those details. About 15 minutes had passed and
mom walked into my room and questioned me harsh - what did I say to my dad as
he lay on the bed holding his head. I couldn’t believe. I said nothing, except
that ugly yell - on why should I always take care of menial things when I am
already so stressed about everything in life.
Then a parallel thought ran forward. This time it choked my
anger and arrogance. This was realization. And a stark one. Straight in my
face. Of what could possible lie ahead. Of what can I loose at this moment
because of what did in the last one. Of how I am about to change it all, for
the worse; if I let worse happen and don’t fix it right here. Right now. I
rushed to his room to find him lying - his shrinking eyes half-open and his
wrinkled hands on his heart. That moment screamed with all its might – the
reality of aging. And of how we gamble our own.
I, absorbed in my own world of life’s commotion – had so far
blatantly chosen to ignore the people who have embraced the worst in me. Did I
always know how to talk, walk, eat, and drink? Or to dress up? Tie my shoes or
brush my teeth? Or even do my hair. No. Those have been the eyes who have
watched every bit I am today and followed me to every remote corner – to save
me from getting lost – in places and in life! Getting lost to failures, to
heartbreaks, to challenges, to cons. And much more. Those have been the hands
that have held mine on roads and gardens, in markets and zoos. And picked me up
in arms to save me from mud and ditches; thorns and stones. I stood there
guilty as guilty should be. He was still there – with us – for us. As always. He was breathing. But a lot else
had changed. It was hard to contain the negative thoughts that started knocking
my skull. What could it be? Heart attack? Haemorrhage? Stroke? Or just high
blood pressure. I hoped it was the last, if at all. Mum panicked and called an
acquainted doctor home. He checked his pulse, blood pressure, eyes, for about 5
or more minutes. I tried to read his face, even before he spoke. His expressions were stoic but I chose to
focus on when he told us all was well. And there was nothing to worry. He wrote
a prescription and advised rest. Perhaps he guessed why what happened -
happened in the first place. He suggested dad to not act or react with haste,
now that his age is pulling up. Calm mind and thoughtful actions would make a
lot of difference in well-being. That was not only an ‘Rx’ to him, but to me
and everyone – where everyone is trying extremely hard to keep up with life –
and where nothing seems to be going right. Well, mostly.
Even after the doc was long gone, I remained numb and
silent. It was too many emotions to comprehend and make sense of how I felt.
But the one we call guilt – stood out. It was tough to ask and toughest to
answer – What If? The chain of thoughts that followed this two worded question
was like a Kaizen ingredient – to better me from what I was that day. At that
moment in time. Moment of thought and reflection. My moment of figuring out. So I went on to ask myself - what if I had woken up to rain
and forgotten about the clothesline myself? They would’ve got wet and dirty.
And I would forgive myself for the loss, and justified it with how hard I work
through the day. I was tired. I needed rest. Parents would’ve told me not to
worry and we’d re-do them in the machine next morning. End of story. But my
mind wasn’t stopping at this close. Like a pop-up window. What if I had woken
up and gone out to the backyard looking at the dark skies while enjoying the rain
shower and collected the not-so precious clothes. I’ve never stopped loving
rains. Wherever, whenever. Maybe mum would’ve offered me a hot cup of ginger
tea, like she does often. Wonderful beginning of a pleasant evening? Far better
than the first. What if I did not jump out in anger – that had lingered on
in my head since last night - after
someone I was hoping to hear from - did not do so. Perhaps I must’ve taken care
of soon as it was beginning to feed on my energy. If someone opts out of a
situation, why should I allow myself to remain in it – when there are no gains?
If someone can be oblivious to me for no fault, why can I do the same? Who was the root cause of the misery that
created a bad mood? I knew. It was me…
And then came my last ‘if’. What if dad had not been able to
make it through that moment? It was as freaky and as scary a thought as the
figure in dark - that we never see, but always scared of. It is a thought that
we run away from – with all our might, with all that we have – all our lives.
Until it gets hold of us – one day. Sometimes we choose it. Sometimes it chooses
us. But was I prepared to choose it for my own people? Don’t we all wish to
give up ourselves to save them? And why?
Because we don’t live for ourselves. We live for them. We all live for someone.
Whoever that is. If it wasn’t for our parents, siblings, spouses, children,
friends, and even strangers – most of us would give away life for little
brushes of fate – when things didn’t happen as we wanted them to. I shivered,
held his hand, and fell crying on his chest – so choked that sorry wouldn’t
come out of my lips.
Anger or misdirected anger is an emotion that can completely shut all other. It
has the power to crush and destroy everything you have loved and lived for. The
after-effect is so dismal that no amount of money can buy and no amount of
regret can restore. There is no back-up of people we love that are put up on
stake. There will never be one. Remind yourself this.
So the next time, when anger comes calling – don’t pick up.
And that alone can decide - between all and none.
