Since the day I started the blog, there hasn't been a single month that has passed by without me having published a post. Like most milestones in my life, the 100th post became the excuse I was looking for to call it a chapter. So, I vowed off writing for a couple of months, closed shop and decided to go underground. The latter was easy. The former is proving to be another story.
Never has my need to write been stronger than it is now. I can't begin to describe how its been for the past few days. Last year I thought, Cud took the cake for breaking her leg by falling off a sidewalk. I should have known better to think Psycho wouldn't compete. She did. And she won - hands and legs down, if I may add. Only, she has done a hell lot more than break her leg. She suffered multiple injuries to her leg and arm in some freak accident by actually plummeting into the space between a platform and a running train.
I've pondered and wondered and finally speculated extensively about the "how's" of it in a variety of angles and scenarios. I can't. My imagination fails me. Never having been too crazy about modesty, I'm sure Psycho is just waiting to show off to everybody how, even in her fall, she stuck to her guns and defied gravity, death and logic, all at once.
Those of you who have ever been a part of a gang will know how its like. If you have say, five people in it, you do everything: book movie tickets, make restaurant reservations, send sms', remember birthdays, shop for things, collect contributions, divide expenses, all in fives. Eventually, it'll come as naturally to you as the count of the plates you'd set at home for dinner.
But not unlike many relationships, ours started showing its cracks. We all got so comfy with each other that we got complacent. We passed out of college with an assurance that nothing would change. But the truth was that nothing remained the same. We had become so cocky that we didn't bother with even common courtesies like calling or meeting anymore. To cut a long story short, we got lulled into living our lives and we simply started taking each other for granted.
Nevertheless, life has a funny way of shaking you out of your reverie. The accident did more than just make a point. It has driven me stark raving mad. Blessed as I am with the capacity to think only good thoughts, I don't think I've ever (other than for mum & dad) prayed, feared or worried for anyone as much as I've done in the past few days for this crazy kid. While she's around, she's always irritating the heck out of me and yet, for all that, I can't think of a single thing I wouldn't do if it would make her hurt just a lil lesser or get her to feel a bit better.
Showing posts with label the sentimental ones. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the sentimental ones. Show all posts
Wednesday, November 5
Sunday, March 30
Au revoir amigo.
Assy's leaving. For real.
I am happy and proud. He's finally out of that miserable job and heading to do the thing he is best at. There are very few people that I have come across in my time who are as immensely talented as that guy and if anyone deserves that job in Dubai, its him. Besides I want him to go so that he'll also serve as a useful contact out there to smuggle back stuff for me.
On a more serious note, I can't help but feel sorry for myself. Amongst all the people I have in my life, he's the only one that I would call to talk to. I guess its because he's the only one with whom I've felt a kinship like I've never found with anyone else. I can't even count the number of nights that we whiled away discussing topics ranging from movies to books, games to earthworms, Godfather to Pink Panther, friends to lovers and everything in between.
It's never been a mushy or senti friendship, ours. Just a very close and simple one. And now he'll be gone. Sure, there'll be phones and e-mails and all the crap. Only it won't be enough. Not nearly enough. Because he'll no longer be able to call me at weird times in the night and demand that I entertain him. And I'll no longer get to message him at odd hours to describe some funny incident of my day. And I most certainly won't have anyone to address my male related queries to.
Dammit!
Why can't I trust easily like most normal people? Why do I have to hold out until I pick one person in a thousand and then bare my soul? Every time I make the unfortunate mistake of getting used to letting someone in, he has to go away. Not just to another city or state but to a country half way across the world.
It's happened so many times that one would expect that I'd have gotten immune to it by now. Somehow, I don't. It hurts just as much each and every time. This time though, I don't even know how to be feeling or more accurately, how to stop feeling.
PS : I want to be going away someplace too. But on second and a more selfish thought, will it even make a difference to anybody? Never mind. It sounds too much like looking for compliments more than a stray thought anyway.
I am happy and proud. He's finally out of that miserable job and heading to do the thing he is best at. There are very few people that I have come across in my time who are as immensely talented as that guy and if anyone deserves that job in Dubai, its him. Besides I want him to go so that he'll also serve as a useful contact out there to smuggle back stuff for me.
On a more serious note, I can't help but feel sorry for myself. Amongst all the people I have in my life, he's the only one that I would call to talk to. I guess its because he's the only one with whom I've felt a kinship like I've never found with anyone else. I can't even count the number of nights that we whiled away discussing topics ranging from movies to books, games to earthworms, Godfather to Pink Panther, friends to lovers and everything in between.
It's never been a mushy or senti friendship, ours. Just a very close and simple one. And now he'll be gone. Sure, there'll be phones and e-mails and all the crap. Only it won't be enough. Not nearly enough. Because he'll no longer be able to call me at weird times in the night and demand that I entertain him. And I'll no longer get to message him at odd hours to describe some funny incident of my day. And I most certainly won't have anyone to address my male related queries to.
Dammit!
Why can't I trust easily like most normal people? Why do I have to hold out until I pick one person in a thousand and then bare my soul? Every time I make the unfortunate mistake of getting used to letting someone in, he has to go away. Not just to another city or state but to a country half way across the world.
It's happened so many times that one would expect that I'd have gotten immune to it by now. Somehow, I don't. It hurts just as much each and every time. This time though, I don't even know how to be feeling or more accurately, how to stop feeling.
PS : I want to be going away someplace too. But on second and a more selfish thought, will it even make a difference to anybody? Never mind. It sounds too much like looking for compliments more than a stray thought anyway.
Thursday, December 6
My Great Ol' GranPa.
There a lot of things I want to write about today, but none of them can be discussed before the single most important thing that has happened this year be addressed. Three days ago, my grand dada passed away. He died at 84. They say ''everyone say good things about a person after he's gone". And I'd probably agree. But in this case, all the good that is being said about it, needs to be.
From what I've seen, he's led a spectacular life. At a pretty young age he dedicated his life to being a doctor and never once shied away from the pledge. The thing that struck me remarkable about him is that, everyone I talked to said the same thing - in all his years as a doctor, he never once charged one patient any fees. He took what they gave. And he thanked them all gracefully, even when their mode of payment were pumpkins. Literally. But that's still only the doctor.
He was a great guy too. The President of a hundred clubs and committees, he never once put his influence to ill use. Or let go of his humility. I was one of those, who would assume that once a person crossed 60, he was automatically senile going on retarded. This guy taught me otherwise, by example, of course. He blew me away with his intelligence and acumen, more times than I would care to count. But that was only one amongst a million other things I learned from his life. My point is...if I ever lived to see 80 (which I sincerely hope not, since my ideal age of death is preferably between 28 1/4 and 29 3/4)I'd want to live a life very much akin to his.
I had always harbored a grudge against him for having shown preferences amidst his grand-kids. But that was before I met him earlier this year. This old man with his extraordinary spirit totally grew on me. We made our peace. I'm glad we did, because that was the very last time we talked and shall remain so.
I hope he went to a better place. Because if any one deserves to, its him.
From what I've seen, he's led a spectacular life. At a pretty young age he dedicated his life to being a doctor and never once shied away from the pledge. The thing that struck me remarkable about him is that, everyone I talked to said the same thing - in all his years as a doctor, he never once charged one patient any fees. He took what they gave. And he thanked them all gracefully, even when their mode of payment were pumpkins. Literally. But that's still only the doctor.
He was a great guy too. The President of a hundred clubs and committees, he never once put his influence to ill use. Or let go of his humility. I was one of those, who would assume that once a person crossed 60, he was automatically senile going on retarded. This guy taught me otherwise, by example, of course. He blew me away with his intelligence and acumen, more times than I would care to count. But that was only one amongst a million other things I learned from his life. My point is...if I ever lived to see 80 (which I sincerely hope not, since my ideal age of death is preferably between 28 1/4 and 29 3/4)I'd want to live a life very much akin to his.
I had always harbored a grudge against him for having shown preferences amidst his grand-kids. But that was before I met him earlier this year. This old man with his extraordinary spirit totally grew on me. We made our peace. I'm glad we did, because that was the very last time we talked and shall remain so.
I hope he went to a better place. Because if any one deserves to, its him.
Saturday, October 14
The American Desi : Laid to Rest
Ok. Time for a check. Haven't had a decent night's sleep for about a week now. Food seems to taste like chalk. Exams from tomorrow and as usual I know nil. And, again... I don't give a damn.
"Today is simply not about me." Thats exactly how I started the post I wrote, three months ago about my uncle, titled The American desi and ended it saying
"Its imperative that his physiotherapy be carefully supervised by someone who will take care of him 24/7 until he gets back on his feet. Someone, to whom he means more than just a patient, someone he can recognize and relate to. Simply, someone who is FAMILY. Over thirty years of a gifted career, a fabulous lifestyle, unadulterated freedom in a mighty country and all it comes down to, at the end of the day, is that. "
Family. He has a pretty large family : four sisters, two brothers and nine nieces & nephews. For once in his life, he sent a plea asking for help. Not one of them answered in return. You see, the grown ups had important things to do; like look after their houses, their grown up kids, spouses and servants while the kids had academics to take care of. So, he died alone...waiting. And, he was buried there with a proper funeral attended by everybody from all over. Everybody except his family. His family was doing something more important. They were taking care of their lives.
As for me, I could never have thought, I was capable of hurting so much for someone so distant. But I do. I feel like sobbing my heart out every time I think of everything that he must have felt in his last days. Hell, ask me about loneliness and the need to belong. I keep imagining all his pain over and over, almost as a punishment for not being able to do anything for him. I wish, I could have talked to him just once and tell him something I've never let acknowledge to anyone, not even myself. I wish I could tell him that for as long as I remember... HE was my hero.
"Today is simply not about me." Thats exactly how I started the post I wrote, three months ago about my uncle, titled The American desi and ended it saying
"Its imperative that his physiotherapy be carefully supervised by someone who will take care of him 24/7 until he gets back on his feet. Someone, to whom he means more than just a patient, someone he can recognize and relate to. Simply, someone who is FAMILY. Over thirty years of a gifted career, a fabulous lifestyle, unadulterated freedom in a mighty country and all it comes down to, at the end of the day, is that. "
Family. He has a pretty large family : four sisters, two brothers and nine nieces & nephews. For once in his life, he sent a plea asking for help. Not one of them answered in return. You see, the grown ups had important things to do; like look after their houses, their grown up kids, spouses and servants while the kids had academics to take care of. So, he died alone...waiting. And, he was buried there with a proper funeral attended by everybody from all over. Everybody except his family. His family was doing something more important. They were taking care of their lives.
As for me, I could never have thought, I was capable of hurting so much for someone so distant. But I do. I feel like sobbing my heart out every time I think of everything that he must have felt in his last days. Hell, ask me about loneliness and the need to belong. I keep imagining all his pain over and over, almost as a punishment for not being able to do anything for him. I wish, I could have talked to him just once and tell him something I've never let acknowledge to anyone, not even myself. I wish I could tell him that for as long as I remember... HE was my hero.
Friday, June 9
The American Desi
A whole lot of things have happened since I ve last done this... some good, some not-so-good and some horrific.
Yet again, I had started to pen down my tales of woe; a relationship gone sour, an identity crisis rapidly progressing into depression and a vacation which turned into a series of unfortunate events. As much as I squander time brooding over these sob stories, somewhere deep down I know I can answer my own questions. The relationship had to end. The identity crisis, an issue that can be resolved only with time. The burnt vacation was because of the disappointment that comes with great expectations. So, all in all, nothing to get worked up about. As obvious as this may seem to anyone else, sometimes it takes an event to help understand it. For once, all the things that are wrongly happening in my life don't seem so heart breaking anymore.
Today is simply NOT about me. I have an uncle (my mum's bro) in the States, since a time when no one had even heard of the place. All my childhood, I remembered him as the uncle whom I got to meet every five years or so and who never failed to get us chocolates and other goodies. But that was the extent of our relationship. I knew zilch about him as a person and the ignorance was mutual, not that I was complaining back then. Much later, I came to know that he was a divorcee with no kids and a leading radiologist in a reputed hospital back in the
"US of A."
During his last visit, about 8-9 years ago, it was the same rhetoric played over again and as his plane took off, I put him out of my mind and didn't give him another thought- till now.
Recently, I came to know that he had been found strewn unconscious across the floor in his apartment. His neighbor rushed him to the hospital, whereupon he was immediately operated but with limited results. He had suffered serious injuries to the brain and was perilously close to becoming a 'vegetable'.
That was over two months ago. But, his condition hasn't progressed all that much. It’s imperative that his physiotherapy be carefully supervised by someone who will take care of him 24x7 until he gets back on his feet. Someone, to whom he means more than just a patient, someone he can recognize and relate to. Simply, someone who is FAMILY. Over thirty years of a gifted career, a fabulous lifestyle, unadulterated freedom in a mighty country and all it comes down to, at the end of the day, is that.
Yet again, I had started to pen down my tales of woe; a relationship gone sour, an identity crisis rapidly progressing into depression and a vacation which turned into a series of unfortunate events. As much as I squander time brooding over these sob stories, somewhere deep down I know I can answer my own questions. The relationship had to end. The identity crisis, an issue that can be resolved only with time. The burnt vacation was because of the disappointment that comes with great expectations. So, all in all, nothing to get worked up about. As obvious as this may seem to anyone else, sometimes it takes an event to help understand it. For once, all the things that are wrongly happening in my life don't seem so heart breaking anymore.
Today is simply NOT about me. I have an uncle (my mum's bro) in the States, since a time when no one had even heard of the place. All my childhood, I remembered him as the uncle whom I got to meet every five years or so and who never failed to get us chocolates and other goodies. But that was the extent of our relationship. I knew zilch about him as a person and the ignorance was mutual, not that I was complaining back then. Much later, I came to know that he was a divorcee with no kids and a leading radiologist in a reputed hospital back in the
"US of A."
During his last visit, about 8-9 years ago, it was the same rhetoric played over again and as his plane took off, I put him out of my mind and didn't give him another thought- till now.
Recently, I came to know that he had been found strewn unconscious across the floor in his apartment. His neighbor rushed him to the hospital, whereupon he was immediately operated but with limited results. He had suffered serious injuries to the brain and was perilously close to becoming a 'vegetable'.
That was over two months ago. But, his condition hasn't progressed all that much. It’s imperative that his physiotherapy be carefully supervised by someone who will take care of him 24x7 until he gets back on his feet. Someone, to whom he means more than just a patient, someone he can recognize and relate to. Simply, someone who is FAMILY. Over thirty years of a gifted career, a fabulous lifestyle, unadulterated freedom in a mighty country and all it comes down to, at the end of the day, is that.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)