My Dad's Last Message

My dad was admitted the previous night at about midnight. His preliminary check-up's were done and his surgery was to be done next day. I was beside him. We talked for some while and agreed to sleep. The night didn't let us sleep. We slept in bits. I woke up and made my dad ready before the operation. He was advised not to have anything. He regularly had tobacco and that day he was looking at me helplessly. I could understand the urge in him and I arranged for his tobacco. He was delighted. I shouldn't have done that but I couldn't resist too. The doctor came and announced. We were both afraid. We were thousands of miles away from home and there was nobody beside who could console me. I was fighting thousands of negative vibes inside me while he was being taken inside. I gave up everything and plugged in my headphone. Music was always my saviour. I tried to go for my favorite playlist but couldn't. I was getting calls from my mother whether everything was fine or not. Even if I had no idea of what was going on inside I kept telling her that everything was fine. Nobody from my paternal kin bothered to give a call. The moment when I needed someone there wasn't anyone to hold me firm from falling. I got plenty of calls from materal kins and close friends. After three hours they came to announce that his operation was successful but I wasn't allowed to meet him. I went to every extent of requesting but the lady turned no ears. I was pushed off by the guard outside the operation theatre. Meanwhile I conveyed everything to everyone who was concerned. We belong to Hindu faith but there were few people who were praying in the village Mosque when my father's operation was going on. Probably that had kept him alive. After two hours I went inside after bargaining a succesful deal with the guard. Dad was lying senseless in the recovery room. I came outside and again made another succesful attempt inside after some time. This time, he was awake. He smiled at me and waved his hand. He was alive and perhaps that was what he was trying to convey me. He asked me show my watch. He saw the time. I was again pushed outside. I made it inside again after two hours. By that time, I was a pro in getting inside and was also used to being thrown outside. Dad's oxygen mask was removed and he wanted to drink something. I approached the doctor and she gave him a cup of warm tea and also threw me outside. I again went it after two hours and this time Dad caught hold of me and he started walking. He walked for sometime inside the recovery room. This time I was not thrown outside and instead the doctors called me up to say that usually patients took at least 24 hours to walk after such a major surgery and Dad was walking withing 6 hours. It was never so easy to hold him away from freedom and even this time they could but only for mere 6 hours. They allowed Dad back to hospital room from the recovery room. The doctor came late night to ask if everything was alright. To their surprise, Dad asked the doctor about his native and children. Dad also asked him to arrange for some good food as he was hungry. Soon there was idli and rice for him. He insisted me on having one idli too. He was hungry but he knew I was hungry too. I knew he didn't walk in the 6th hour itself to prove anything to anybody but only to let me know that I had nothing to worry. We woke up at 3 am again. He wanted to go for a stroll in the floor itself. Initially I held his hand, not firmly but just as a support. He left the grip away and started walking on himself. We saw a very very fat man who was probably thrice as fat as me. Just then after he walked away Dad started with the old nursery poem Humpty Dumpty. We laughed out loud. The nurses too heard us but they were too amused to see a man laughing just after hours of such an operation. Dad died after twenty two days. He left  with a message that one should never stay away from laughter. He believed in sharing happiness.

Munmun's Mom's Way of Parenting

I am sharing a small story from 5th or 6th standard.

There used to  be a young kangaroo named Munmun. Munmun was very attached  to his mother. As days passed by, he chose not to grow up and be a joey forever and stay in his mother's pouch. His mother insisted him to start learning to  leap but he defied everytime. He was fond of his mother's care and that defied him from growing old. One day his mother decided  to teach him a lesson. While Munmun was asleep, his mother left him beneath a tree and was watching him from a distance. As he woke up, he was shocked to be alone. He looked for his mom everywhere but he couldn't find her. He felt thirsty and searched for water. He remembered the way to river where his mom used to carry him in her pouch and he started leaping towards the river. His mom followed him. While he reached the river and was about to drink water, he saw his mother.

Munmun's Mom teaches a lot about how parenting should be done. Every mammal is scientifically concerned about the child. The concern sometimes goes so far that parents even forget to let  their kid grow up. Kid's today are so spoon fed that they have forgotten how to do household chores even. Freedom and responsibilities will both make a kid grow up. Yes, however that needs a strict eye like Munmun's Mom. However the kid shouldn't realize that he is being watched up. This also will let you know how your child behaves in your absence. If he behaves matured, then it is you who is not letting him grow up. If  he is homesick, then you must let him realize the world outside your home. If he does something wrong, then probably he needs some more nurturing or even strict eye.

I grew up in a similar environment and I am thankful to my parents for that. I was never spoon fed. I had to figure out solutions by myself to some of my problems. If that was beyond my scope, then only my parents would interrupt. I was not scolded for studies everyday but was also questioned for my marks which compelled me to make my own study plan. I was not restricted of television. The luxury of parents escorting to the school bus-stop always remained a dream. If ever there was any community event or a Bihu function in the neighbourhood I always returned late night. However, the day my Dad found out I was learning to ride a bike without proper license he warned me about all the consequences and also ensured that I got my license to ride. Even after I started working and earning he found out once that I was riding without a helmet. He reminded me of the benefits of wearing a helmet. I had to do household chores. No excuses were entertained for skipping household chores. My parents had no discrimination of a male child or a female child. They always taught me to live doing my own chores from cooking to cleaning and perhaps that has helped me to stay away from home. 

Parent's in my generation were also involved with their children. However, they also knew the disadvantages of spoon-feeding the child. I have seen today's generation parent's doing their way of parenting. One of the parent keeps waiting outside asking the school bus driver to wait while the other carries the child in lap feeding him tiny bits and bringing to the bus stop. If they haven't taught them punctuality now, they will never be able to see a future gentleman in them later now.

Submitted for Indispire

Religion, Rituals and Superstitions

We can define faith as belief in revealed truth. Superstion is belief in happenings of supernatural activities. Superstition directly contradicts faith. Ritual is set of activities of a particular group of people performed in fixed order for a particular cause, necessarily originating from a religion, community or even a small group. Religion is a fundamental set of belief agreed upon by a group of people who believe in the cause, nature and purpose of universe and performsome devotional activities. Superstitions are although believed to  originate from religion is not necessarily so. Superstition originates with the fear from predicting a series of misdeed happening to an individual or several individuals coincidentally after some same action to happen to all other individual who does that action. It has nothing to do with religion. Superstition is all about fear.

I encountered several such rituals  and superstitious beliefs during my the events after my fathers death. Although I agreed to follow a few of them, I gently denied to follow the rest. 

• There has always been a belief of taking bath after cremation in Hindu faith and taking birth before burial in Islam faith. During my few visits to attend cremation, I don't remember taking bath everytime. I took cremation as a day to day task and only took bath if I hadn't taken bath in the entire day. My rule is to bath daily. I was told to believe scientifically with the logic that wind brings flying ash from the pyre to fall upon the one's standing near the pyre and that's why we need to bath after attending cremation. In that case, I will always take bath after entering home from the polluted city life.

• I was asked to not have anything or drink water even, for three days as I was the one who gave the fire to my fathers corpse, popularly known as 'Mukhagni'. I didn't get any logic to that and I drank water. Although I didn't eat anything, still I drank water. I didn't get any logic to stay thirsty for three days. I was told this was to feel that someone close has left me. My father was dead just couple of hours back and I didn't need anything to impose grief on me. I am still broken because of his absence.

• I suddenly turned untouchable. Some people started standing away from me. Luckily I had near and dear ones who too didn't believe in anything of that sort. They believed that for 10 days my fathers soul would be wandering around me and so touching me could land them up in danger. 

• I am asked to not visit any temple or take part in any religious activity up to an year after my father's death. I seldom visit any temple, but I feel sorry for my mother. 

• I was also asked to remain wet for three days. Everytime I dried up, I had to take bath again. This was supposed to go till three days. I was told to do so to feel the grief. I denied to stay wet for three days in temperature range of 24 C - 14 C. 

• Me and my Mom had to take meal only once in day and that too at a time when nobody ever felt hungry. This continued for 13 days.

• I am asked to stay away from attending weddings, cultural gatherings, eating outside, going to any social event and anything auspicious. This is to keep  me feeling the grief.

I would consider most of these to be superstitions as I don't see the root of any perfect logic. My father was not at all superstitious and we would often laugh at such superstitions. Although he was religious, he was not superstitous. My fathers rational nature gave me the strength to oppose such beliefs. Social pressure compelled me to follow a few of them and I shall continue to follow those few for the works of everyone dependent on me. However, for whomsoever I would be dependent upon I would ask to deny such beliefs. If it is believed that by following certain activities blindly I would feel the grief of someone's absence than its absolutely not so. It would turn me more rebellious. I will always feel my fathers absence and it is not for just a year. I will feel my fathers absence even if I don't follow these. It comes from heart and it can't be imposed. This is all about respect. I believe these superstitions are just to impose the grief of someone's absence on his near and dear ones and which is not at all necessary.

The morning of 15th December 2018

I asked everyone else to leave. I didn't want anybody else to lose their sleep. Dad was admitted to the hospital on that morning itself and after an entire day of check up he was referred to ICU. We were told that he was improving and he was referred so that his recovery could be faster. I volunteered to  stay and didn't allow any other kin because I wanted to be with Dad. Ever since I remember I always slept with Dad and this continued till his operation. I didn't want to leave Dad with anybody else. I felt I was the best who could have been there beside him. As the night passed by I was left alone. There were two more attendants of some different patient with me but they chose to sleep. Staying awake on such a cold winter was not so easy. Even I couldn't have stayed awake if it would have been for somebody else than my father. I drank plenty of water. I even chewed few areca nuts. I din't have a sound sleep the night before too. I was sure to make a tough call by morning. I had made up my mind to take him to a better doctor or if necessary even to a metro to get him well. I was with him three weeks back for nine days. We went to Chennai for his cervical dysfunction surgery. He recovered fast then. The peace of the night was disturbed by some noise in the ICU at about 03:30 AM. Although I had a watch, I forgot to see the time. I was sure it was for one of the four other patients who were also there with my Dad because two of them were already very critical. I stood and prayed for whosoever it was. At about 04:30 AM the doctor came walking to me and I lost the grip to stand. I was the only child of my parents and that didn't let me fall. The doctor said that my father wouldn't survive and he was in the last hour of life. I was never ready for such a moment. I went in with the doctor. I could see that his BP was severely high and heart beats were low in the display attached beside him. The doctor informed that multiple organs had failed and he was hit by a cardiac arrest. I touched his feet and rubbed it. Every night before sleep it was customary for me to massage his hands and feet for a while. While I rubbed his feet I tried calling him with the hope that he could listen to me. I realised his feet losing senses and he was dead by then. I could feel his soul leaving away his dead body. I was shivering and about to fall until when one of the hospital staffs caught hold of me. I don't know whether it was because of less winter clothes or something else. I am one among those unlucky son who has seen his father die and I couldn't do anything good. I had to stay numb. I wanted to cry but I couldn't. My dad never taught me to cry. I couldn't cry in front of him even though he was dead. I came outside and broke down in the stairs. The umbrella of fatherly care and love was all gone. How could I say my mother about that? I thought to jump out of the window and end my life too. At least then I could have been beside Dad. I thought of my mother. She had already lost her elder son and now her husband. I couldn't leave her too. I called a few of my kin and informed them. I asked them not to inform anything to my mother. I went in without any  tears. My dad taught me never to cry. He would be hurt if he ever saw me cry. I asked the doctor for the death certificate and discharge report. I even called up the vehicle who is supposed to carry soulless bodies to the cremation place. I could hear the nurses talk amongst themselves that how was I so stable even after my Dad's sudden death. Well my dad had taught me to be so. I called up  my Mother after ninety minutes and she was already awake. She did early morning prayers and was also ready to make breakfast for Dad. I said her that  my Dad was no more with us. I took him to home where everyone was already broken. When I born, my Dad was very happy to carry me to our home. I was bringing home my dead father. The balance was uneven. The balance remains uneven. I wish I could save my father.