Two Weddings and a Funeral

Aati rahengi bahaarein,

Jaati rahengi bahaarein……….



We have always led a nomadic life. And in the past thirty years had fourteen transfers and lived in eighteen houses. But the present zone that we are posted in and the present bungalow that we occupy will always hold the dearest memories. Not because I belong to Orissa but because this is the only bungalow that has witnessed three events close to my heart- two weddings and a funeral.

Just two months after we moved here my daughter got married. Compared to my organized husband I was a novice parent and before I could emerge from my dazed state, the whole event was over. I vowed I’d compensate the next time for all that I had missed out on. So for the past year I made elaborate plans- the topmost priority being not to miss out on calling all my friends- old and new. But life has its own agenda. Last month the wedding reception of my son took place. And looking back I realize, I not only missed out on a few important names from my friends list but couldn’t even inform some of my closest relatives.

It is said that explanations are useless- because those that care don’t need them and those that don’t care will never understand. Yet I need to clarify. Not because I want to justify my stand but because now I understand why some of my friends forgot to invite me on some important occasion. Perhaps the numbers were changed. Perhaps their phones were misplaced. Perhaps they were blessed with amnesic minds. Perhaps they were busy with the preparations. Perhaps they had just lost a dear one. Perhaps this and perhaps that but all plausible reasons!

Just a month before my son was to wed, Mummy passed away. It was a funny feeling because more than a shock, it came as a dull kind of a blow. Expected yet unexpected! She was so looking forward to it. In fact I felt annoyed with God for His inappropriate sense of timing. I mean how could devastation and celebration walk hand in hand? In fact my son conveyed the same feeling when I gave him the tragic news. But I remembered the lesson I had learnt after Daddy’s death. It had left behind a vacuum that none of his children thought could ever be filled. And after ten long years of grieving I decided to gift all of us‘A Bouquet Of Memories’. And this present not only made Daddy immortal in the pages of time but also finally succeeded in turning our mourning into a celebration.

Moreover we had to be practical. The entire wedding preparations involved a number of people that were not as close to mummy as her children were. It also included a number of events that were pre-planned a year in advance by Nalini and her parents. Grief is very personal. And tainting it with a shallow display of emotional extravaganza would bring nothing but a painful guilt and unease. Especially to those not directly connected with the entire process. So even though the wound was still fresh we decided not to dampen the festive occasion with tears. Rather, with the gathering of family members from here and overseas, we decided to turn it into a remembrance of sorts.

But somewhere along the way the angst took its toll. And I guess it resulted in a procrastination of calls and e-cards and blogs that I had planned to make, send or blog about just prior to the wedding. Mummy had spent the last forty five minutes of her life clutching on to my hand with a helpless look in her eyes. My sister had sat by her side, reading the Quran. And in between her last minute inaudible gasps, mummy kept looking at us wordlessly while she silently sipped the holy water from Mecca that we offered. Compared to the boisterous mom that we knew all our life, it was the quiet and the gracious way she left us that really shook us up. In fact the only time I had seen such a close encounter with death was in films. Only this was less dramatic but more traumatic.

Initially I did not want to blog about this since I did not want it to sound as an excuse. But I owe it to my friends and relations to clarify why some were invited and others were not even informed. Especially since a few of them were very close to Misha. And a special mention to some of my Blogger friends in Mumbai who were probably waiting for my call. I'm really sorry Vim, Arun and Lakshmi. I really planned to post the e-card in our school blog but completely forgot. And I had also misplaced my cell. I truly feel a remorse that is difficult to describe.

What amazes me is that even though I overlooked some of my friends, Mummy made sure she invited a few of hers to tag along with her. Through this blog I would like to extend my heartfelt condolences to some friends who have lost their ailing parents recently.

First of all to Stanley, Henry and Louis- who lost their mom just a few days after mummy left. What is astonishing is that Baby Auntie was Mummy’s best friend. To Deepa (even though we don’t keep in touch) who lost her dad exactly two weeks later. Again surprisingly, Matthews Uncle was a very close friend of my parents.

Since there is nothing much we can do out here on earth, let us rest assured with the fact that all our parents are having a good time out there greeting each other. And finally meeting their near and dear ones!!

P.S. This is not a tribute. This is not an explanation either. It is simply a celebration of life and death. For it is only when you learn to celebrate death that you can stop mourning in life.