When You Aim For The Stars

'Aim for the stars. Even if you fall short you may land on the moon.
I like this saying. I like its suggestion of man’s curiosity of what lies above. I like his desperate attempt to forever reach for those unreachable diamonds in the sky. I like his childhood romanticism to be satisfied even if he ends up landing on the chanda mama. But even more powerful is another saying which I simply love- When you aim for the stars you often forget to look at the flowers.

This simple observation is so profound. And so true! In his dogged attempt to keep looking up above the sky so high, man often forgets to view the florid reality beneath. You can see them all around- starry eyed modern parents aiming for a greener career outside the home and in the process, forgetting to tend the little flowers in their own backyard. But never, ever for a moment did it occur to me that this same metaphor could also apply to the modern child as well- of how in the process of aiming for an advantageous lifestyle of flowering and fruiting and branching out on our own, we conveniently forget about our roots.

One of my dream in life is to be a WOW Indian (http://vishshanker.sulekha.com/blog/post/2010/03/three-cheers-for-india.htm) I don’t know why but the inevitable march of mortality often weighs heavily on me. So much so that sometimes even in the miracle of childbirth, all I can see is that one day, someday, this child is going to die. I know it sounds morbid but I often go through this metaphysical crisis. And since everything in life is so finite, my dream is to create an infinite empire- something that will carry on regardless of whether I am there or not.

I know I cannot even begin to think on the lines of a Bill Gates or a Mother Theresa, so starting a small orphanage or an old age home or a hospital always seemed like a WOW idea. But whenever a few of us siblings got together and discussed our future altruistic plans, the cons usually weighed heavily against the pros. And forget about the implementation, even the foundation seemed a distant possibility. And then last month something happened.

The landlord of the house in Berhampur, where Mummy was residing for the past seven years, suddenly wanted her to vacate it. What? Move her again? At this stage in her bedridden life? And where to? It was unthinkable! Already we had dislocated her once from our White House. Already we had severed all the emotional ties, uprooting all her memories that she held dear for nearly five decades. But perhaps there is a neat design in every event that God maps out for us. And the landlord was definitely the divine arbitrator in this unexpected earthly arrangement.

Let me be very honest. We humans always leave an escape hatch in even our most intimate of relationships. We blindly want to continue believing in those silly traditional dogmas that reek of gender bias. So my first thought was why should a daughter come forward when there are sons? Never mind the fact that there are various hindrances, sometimes due to geographical complexities and sometimes due to intricate health issues. Imagine carrying a bedridden parent all the way to another country. Or dumping one patient upon another! So I did some soul searching and realized that my first thought was not a thought at all. It was an excuse.

My second thought was more selfishly numerical than practical. Why should I come forward when mummy has six other children? Then again I realized this was also not a thought. It was an even bigger excuse- an afraid of a serious commitment kind of an excuse.

A son should look after his parents. A daughter should look after her in-laws. A man should be the breadwinner of the house. A woman should marry before she reaches the Jurassic age of 30. What limiting thoughts to live with! If we women are hell bent upon wanting a Kill Bill (highly stylized revenge act for all the past atrocities dealt on us) to be passed, why make responsibility a gender issue? And even if there are a hundred children, shouldn’t looking after one parent depend simply upon whoever is more accessible during that opportune moment?

So rather than considering it as a task I thought it better to take responsibility as an ability to respond immediately. Mostly because I felt I was definitely the most suited to take Mummy in. In any case, apart from blogging I seriously did not have any other major issues :-} So my final thought was...…well, again it was not a thought. It was a decision. Followed by an action!

Anyway without making a big dramatic production about the entire affair, suffice to say that Mummy is currently with me. Needless to say Shanker was very co-operative. Needless to also add that all of Mummy’s children were present during Operation Shifting! In fact Almas Bhaiya and Saif (mom’s first grandchild) accompanied her in the ICU on wheels. And Faiyaz, and the rest of her sons-in-law followed her in a car. Something like an elaborate baraat party :-}

Even though Mummy stays with me, her other children, her grandchildren and her great grandchildren visit her almost daily. And since for all of us she is like a fragile Barbie doll, we take turns in pampering her with manicures and pedicures and hair styling and spoon feeding. I personally have taken this opportunity to extract my childhood revenge on her by force feeding and zabardasti applying dollops of kajal in her eyes (she did that to me when I was a toddler). I also now make her dress as per my fancy.

Of late a lot of mummy’s friends come to visit her. And whenever they say ‘It’s such a good thing you took this decision. It’s such a good thing you brought her here’ , I feel a sense of smugness. Which actually is so despicable! Which actually is so, so sad! Like Nigar says, if only all the parents in the world never ever abandoned their kids (and even if they did, if someone, anyone from the family adopted them); if only all the children in the world, never ever abandoned their parents (and even if they did, if someone, anyone from the extended family took them in), there would not be a single orphanage or a single home for the aged in the whole wide world!

So thank you Lord….no, let me rephrase that…. Thank you Landlord, for asking my mummy to vacate thereby opening my eyes to so many unknown facts - that there is joy not only in giving but also in keeping. That not only charity but service also begins at home.

Thank you Landlord for confirming my belief that in this man made world, every being on earth is actually God in disguise. Every request made from the heart is a silent prayer. And every act, however little is actually a holy offering.

Thank you Landlord for making me realize that one does not always need to concentrate on building empires to achieve something perfect. Sometimes all we need is to resign ourselves to the awkwardness of life.

Sometimes all we need is to stop aiming for the stars and concentrate on the flowers. And as long as the roots are not completely severed, all is well in the garden
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P.Sssssst…………......In case you decide to skip the above mentioned philosophical and condescending sermon, don’t you worry. Now you can take out your handkerchiefs and get ready for the dramatic confession. The real reason I have mummy with me is because of my other dream in life. I always wanted to be a WOW movie star. But since that wish fizzled out, one day I hope I can at least utter a famous filmi dialogue in a completely filmi fashion. And now I'm preparing for this great act. In future IF any of my siblings ever posed me that million dollar Bollywood question- ‘Mere paas PAISA hai, BUNGLA hai, GAADI hai, BANK BALANCE hai. Tere paas KYA hai?’
Well, you guessed it! I can then gather all my sentiments around me and proudly pronounce- ‘Mere paas *sniff* *sniff* mere paas ....Maa hai’.

(originally posted in sulekha.com)