Musings on life!

Would somebody tell me how valuable I am? Am I more valuable dead than alive?

You would of course say “alive”. Truly you would say I am asking a pointless and silly question. Very well, then would you explain to me why nobody could find time to visit Mr. X when he was alive but all turned out to pay him “respect”(sic) when he finally called it a day? Am I being silly then?  Now my own time is not too far off. I was reflecting on my own life. I did the unpardonable by living by my principles and whims instead of the community’s and was rather stark in my annoyance if anyone crossed the line beyond reasonable limits. So today I have the pleasure of rarely receiving anyone from the family; even the ones who found me “super” when younger. They remember my indiscretions, my frank and outgoing speeches and think I am best kept at a distance which suits me fine (I suppose they are afraid I will contaminate the minds of their children).

The other day I was talking to my wife on this subject and I told her when my time comes would she have the guts to ask people to leave me alone in death as they had done in life? I would definitely want it so.

I do wonder why we give so much importance to death and make it such a grim and sad affair. After all, the departed one could not care less and he could be in no way sad about the turn of events. There is this uppermost enigma in my mind as to why we reserve the eulogizing for the dead while the living ones get all the contemptuous glances and more? There is no love lost before death and after it there is nothing but it. If anyone is looking for proof of the basic elemental dishonesty in human nature one has to simply visit a wake. All their lives those who were dying to hear a kind word have to literally die to hear one!

My father was an intellectual and although he loved the company of his friends and family and could easily become the life of the party, he was by virtue of his hobbies and activities happy to be left alone too. When he was younger he was the best placed in the family and helped all his younger brothers to get placed and sisters married off. In time the brothers established themselves and had families and responsibilities of their own. Time for gathering around my father shrank from days to hours and then to minutes to less and less and by the time he was sixty very few had any time to visit him until and unless they had a problem only his genius could solve. My own bent of spirit is a little on the philosophical side and I took after him in more ways than one and I can say he was proud of me and contented enough to see me doing as well as he had done. 

I have always made an effort to find time to be with people I tend to miss. So although my father was in Hyderabad and I was in Delhi, I spent at least 3-4 days every month with him religiously. Then one day the ominous call did come. But at his age it was expected and a matter of time. I reached there immediately to take care of affairs and informed all my family who are mainly in the north of India that they should please do me the favour of not rushing down. For one I did not have the resources to host anyone; and more importantly I wanted to be alone. I told them they would be welcome to visit me and my mother when we were in Delhi in a month’s time. Knowing me they all did as told. We did not miss them and I am sure they were very relieved to avoid this troublesome trip.

I have been one of the lucky ones. I enjoyed exactly 47 years of a close life with my father and my brother. I pride myself in thinking that the delight was mutual. I took time out to spend as much of my days as I could with both of them. I may regret a lot of things but not the time with them. Now that they are gone I feel orphaned. But as it happens in life there are always compensatory comings and goings. My daughter came into my life when I was 58; when I had all the time in the world to devote to her. The last 3 and a half years I have been with her all the time. My wife is a full time employee so the mothering came on my shoulders and I loved it. It has been the loveliest part of my life. The laughter, the kisses, the clinging and the gamboling; nothing can beat it all. Only now that she is growing up and does not need my physical embraces so much I am already beginning to feel the distancing and a wistfulness creeps in. I get to hold her nowadays only when something disturbs her at night and then she slips into my lap and goes to sleep in my arms. How long will the title “Grandest Papa in the Whole World” last? Why do these kids have to grow so fast?