Its been a long long week, and a taxing one at that.
As i sat down today, inspite of several objections, to pay my last homage to the woman i owe my name to, a heavy feeling took over. One that i had kept at bay, for a while now. As the last rights of passage passed, memories came back from the nooks and corners they had been crammed way into. Memories of me having gone up to her as a child, after each day at school, with my complaints about mum. Memories of laying beside her and listening to her tell me stories; memories of having slipped into her kitchen to eat 'chaal'..; sitting in the balcony beside her, while she read in the evening light...
Time and distance have made most of the memories a little fuzzy, but they came back all the same. I had not seen her for a while; had been too caught up in my own world to see hers. I couldn't regret that more now. I'm sorry i wasn't there mamuni, when you were in pain; i'm sorry things turned out the way they did. I owe you a hug.
The woman passed away, two days back. As things are settling back to forced normalcy, with rituals following, the folly of existence somehow lays bare. She burnt to death. By the time my parents reached, there was very little left of her. I could not see her body; dada says its a good thing i remember her the way i do. In the middle of all of this, it fails me, how shallow and how apparent at that some people can be. Angers me too; If its not in your capacity to be honest to the cause, there is no need for you there; none whatsoever. You did not need to be there, to see the drama unfold, or to even provoke it. Its not your playing field. As relatives flocked to hear the story, and pry into the scene with their ostentatious sympathies, i wondered yet again what the point was...What was the point of inquiring into my whereabouts, when i reached, how promptly i reached, why they hadnt seen me before, if i had flown in; If i'd allowed them, i think the next thing they would have tried to find out is how much it had cost me!!
I wanted to participate in the 'kaaj'. I wasn't supposed to because i am a daughter; another folly i fail to understand; and never will; from what i could tell, i was more willing than many who did participate, by virtue of birth and marriage. I sat there nonetheless and recited the verses, hoping her soul would find some solace. I hope you did, if not in life or death, after so;
Rest in peace mamuni; am sorry it took me so long to bid you the last farewell
As i sat down today, inspite of several objections, to pay my last homage to the woman i owe my name to, a heavy feeling took over. One that i had kept at bay, for a while now. As the last rights of passage passed, memories came back from the nooks and corners they had been crammed way into. Memories of me having gone up to her as a child, after each day at school, with my complaints about mum. Memories of laying beside her and listening to her tell me stories; memories of having slipped into her kitchen to eat 'chaal'..; sitting in the balcony beside her, while she read in the evening light...
Time and distance have made most of the memories a little fuzzy, but they came back all the same. I had not seen her for a while; had been too caught up in my own world to see hers. I couldn't regret that more now. I'm sorry i wasn't there mamuni, when you were in pain; i'm sorry things turned out the way they did. I owe you a hug.
The woman passed away, two days back. As things are settling back to forced normalcy, with rituals following, the folly of existence somehow lays bare. She burnt to death. By the time my parents reached, there was very little left of her. I could not see her body; dada says its a good thing i remember her the way i do. In the middle of all of this, it fails me, how shallow and how apparent at that some people can be. Angers me too; If its not in your capacity to be honest to the cause, there is no need for you there; none whatsoever. You did not need to be there, to see the drama unfold, or to even provoke it. Its not your playing field. As relatives flocked to hear the story, and pry into the scene with their ostentatious sympathies, i wondered yet again what the point was...What was the point of inquiring into my whereabouts, when i reached, how promptly i reached, why they hadnt seen me before, if i had flown in; If i'd allowed them, i think the next thing they would have tried to find out is how much it had cost me!!
I wanted to participate in the 'kaaj'. I wasn't supposed to because i am a daughter; another folly i fail to understand; and never will; from what i could tell, i was more willing than many who did participate, by virtue of birth and marriage. I sat there nonetheless and recited the verses, hoping her soul would find some solace. I hope you did, if not in life or death, after so;
Rest in peace mamuni; am sorry it took me so long to bid you the last farewell
No comments:
Post a Comment