Daddy, you are in the other room!

In the Mahabharata, Yaksha asks Dharmaraja; “What is the greatest wonder?” To which, Dharmaraja replies; “Day after day countless people die.  Yet the living, wish to live, forever.  O Lord! What can be a greater wonder?”

Dear Daddy,

This is my second letter to you.  The first one I wrote when was about 10 years old when we went to our Uncle’s house for a vacation.  Amma dictated that letter.  It was more to inform you our return journey date, so that you can receive us at the station.

After so many years, I am writing this to you.  But, you would never read this.  We are all yet to come to terms with your demise.  We (I and my siblings) are strangers to death.  You and Amma lost your parents very early.  In the last four and half decades, there was no death in the family.  Whenever a relative passed away, either you or Amma attended the funeral or ceremony and we had complete immunity against that pain.  As Sekhar said, we always associated death anniversaries with a “get-together” of cousins and eating gaarelu and boorelu.

I have lived all my life with you.  I am surprised no one has asked me “how are you going to cope with the loss?  You have lived with him all your life.” May be they are convinced that I can handle it or feel I deserve this.  I think people are conditioned only to say a few standard consoling words, praise the departed soul, discuss the rituals and the funeral feast.

It is not just that I have lived with you, but have spent a lot of quality time with you and enjoyed it thoroughly.

We have been friends from the beginning.  We liked each other’s company. We were alike and also different. We never fought and were always on talking terms.

You hardly addressed me by my name.  I have always been your Amma or your grandmother, Subbamma.  But you are so broadminded to not only name me after Amma’s Amma, but also to believe that I am her reincarnation.  I came to know this only last year, when you mentioned it to a friend of mine, that Ammamma’s last wish was to live at our house. So, when you had a daughter, you really believed, she has come to fulfill her dream.  You believed in so many things that I don’t believe at all.  But there was never friction.

It’s almost two months since you left.
My mind is filled with your memories.
Every morning I wake up with moist eyes.  Till the last day you woke me up.  Now I wake up on my own.

I am reminiscing the time we spent together.

Even as a toddler, like the pug in the hutch ad, I literally followed you wherever you went. You too happily carried me or allowed me to walk with you everywhere.  I was with you when you went to fetch water, to get milk, watch films etc.  I came to your office, your business associates’ offices, banks, Government offices, literally everywhere you went. You considered me a “lucky mascot” and when something wasn’t working the way you wanted, you took me along.  I am sad I don’t have even a single photograph of you holding me.

Our outings continued even after I had grown up.  Mostly we went to the vegetable market together.  When Doctors advised you to stop cycling and carrying weights, you came to my office, picked me up and then together we went to buy vegetables.

Even after I started working, I continued to study through correspondence/part-time and you encouraged me thoroughly.  Every time I had an exam, you accompanied me.  The exam centres were in some remote areas in the outskirts.  Most of the times, you did a recce of the location.  You rode me to those centers with great enthusiasm carrying books to read while I attended the exam.  I failed in some exams too.  But that didn’t demoralize either of us.  We were just happy with the process.  Once, except you and me, there was no one on the highway.  I was so scared that day.  Also, when you took me to the Railway Recruitment Board exam, it was drizzling.  We had to cross Adayar river at Ekkattuthangal.  The present bridge was yet to be constructed.  It rained so heavily that day, by the time we returned, the causeway was partly submerged.  Bravely, you rode over that.  I was very scared that we would get washed off. You enjoyed taking risks.

By the time you stopped riding, I bought a scooter, and then you accompanied me on the pillion. Life had taken a full circle.  While you enjoyed pillion riding, I didn’t.  I was very scared because sitting behind, you tried to control everything.  The route, the speed and the movement.  You involuntarily gave signals to other motorists and then directed me to give way to them.  Also, your frequent ischemic attacks were a matter of concern and I had put my foot down to take you along with me after a while. May be I should have bought a car.  You never liked hiring taxis or autos.

Did you know that I was constantly living with fear for the last 20 years, ever since you had your first Transient Ischemic Attack.  You had them most in the nights or early in the morning.  Every night I used to peep into the bed room just to check if everything was fine with you.  I was scared even if you stopped snoring. Sometimes I used to come close and check if your breathing was normal.  Many times you saw me doing it.  I could see the happiness in your eyes when I did it.  I was worried if you spent more time in the toilet also.  You used to wake up very early and make a lot of noise in the kitchen.  If not for Varsha’s telephonic call, I would have ignored the day you fell on the stove with boiling milk when you had an ischemic attack.

I was always on an alert mode. I kept cash at home for emergency and stopped wearing nighties because, the first time you had an attack, it took a few minutes for me to get ready for the hospital.

You were so adventurous.  You locked me and Amma inside and went for morning walks.  You climbed up trees, scaled walls, got into water tanks and sumps. Wanted to fix everything. Your philosophy was; “ if someone can do, I too can do.” In the process, you got injured many times. We were very worried.

Even now, involuntarily I peep into the bedroom and suddenly realize that I don’t have to worry about you any longer.

How much you loved me! How special you made me feel.  I had the habit of watching TV before sleeping in the nights.  Sometimes I switched it off, many times I dozed off while the TV was on. Though you went to bed before me, you used to wake up in between, silently walk into the drawing room, check if I was asleep and then shut down the TV.  Sometimes, when I was awake also, you came to check. Now I switch off the TV before going to bed.

You always waited to have dinner with me.  During weekends, you waited to have lunch also.  Even when I got delayed at the Radio station on Sundays, you waited for me.  There were times when we had lunch at 4 pm.

You admired me so much.  You liked my meticulous planning and execution.  You liked the way I managed my money.  You liked the way I worked at home.  You loved the food I made. You were so proud to hear my voice on the radio. You were my best fan and critic. Even when you were confined to bed, you wanted to see me cutting mangoes for pickle.  Probably you saw yourself in me.

Though you were proud of me, you were also sad and at times felt guilty, for you have influenced some of my decisions that have gone wrong.  You have raised us at International Standards and I don’t think beyond India, parents take responsibility for decisions of their grown up children. Also, you have often quoted that individuals are responsible for their own Karma.  How restless you were every time I spoke to my male friends.  I don’t know if it was anxiety or hope.  There was no need for anxiety, as my friends are harmless and they are in my inner circle because they are worth it and if it was hope, I am sorry for disappointing.
I didn’t like anyone bullying you.  I tried to protect you as much as possible.  I even tried to make you more assertive and make you feel more secure.  I wanted to help you in getting rid of your emotional baggage, but you were reluctant to get out of the shell.  I have helped so many of my friends, but feel sad, I couldn’t do it to you.

A friend of mine says, people always praise the departed and never have any complaints against them.  For a change, I am also angry with you.  I had requested you to organize your list of contacts.  You had maintained four or five telephone indices. Same names are repeated with different phone numbers in different indices and we had a tough time tracing people.

You encouraged us to learn.  You initiated us into reading.  You taught us communication. You made us learn languages.  You were democratic.  Never imposed your ideas.  Imparted civic sense.  Raised us as responsible citizens. Gave us a platform to lead a righteous life. There is nothing special about fathers raising their daughters like sons, when they have none, but raising daughters like sons and giving them equal rights when there are also sons, is really special and you are certainly a special person. Thanks for everything.

I never told you “I love you” because I always felt such statements are too dramatic. I didn’t like falling at your feet also, for I don’t like tokenism.

To think of you in the past tense is so difficult.  In fact, I don’t many times think you are gone.  When I am in office, I feel you are at home.  When I am at home, I feel, you are in the other room watching and listening to us.