Mothers Day 2020

It is few hours away from “Mothers-day” and I sit here at my home, locked down and thinking about my mother.  Among the many memories I had with her, one which I recall the most is how she always believed in “peace first” policy. One such incident was  during my post schooling days, when i used to get quite upset over the simple things, like my mother not giving coffee "on-time" every morning and this used to bother me a lot. And after observing this for a while, I complained this to my mother.  For which, she told me  that anything that comes into my life should stay with me to become my strength or it should leave me, to make me free. But  it should never stay with me and continue be my weakness. And she also told me that these habits that has gained mastery over me, will be very soon  gaining mastery over my peace....and for sure will disturb my peace.  For which, she told me to practice the ability to “say no” for one full week & abstain from that which disturbed me. Practising this will either give me complete mastery over it or I will no more be in need of this, forever. 

May be i didn't understood this truly then but now i realised that everything that comes into our life should stay with us to become our strength or it should leave us to make us free it should never stay with us and become our weakness.

I am practising this advice of hers now to only see how much peace I have invited in my life. 

Well, TWO YEARS before, on the same day, I wrote something but didn’t publish then. I wrote:

She's caged away in a place “they” call home, staring void. Her language became nothingness. She sees mostly the ceiling and sometimes the walls.

She does no movements, yet  they say she is still alive. Is she? or is she not? What am I to believe? What am I to feel?
The pain I now endure for her, deeply tears me apart. I have survived this year after year by blocking her from my thoughts. Yet as the time comes close for me to return these fears resurface.
The saddest part being not able to do anything but being with her. She is my mother. I came into this world from her womb and now getting ready to carry her to her tomb wishing to say goodbye.
Its so very excruciating to say my final goodbye is near-by. My heart pangs, my body feels weakened and my hands seem to tremble.
Death, although is final destination, its never easy to let someone go.
Although I know this deep sleep will bring peace and comfort. It will remove her from a life that disappeared many years ago.
It is all so agonising as I try to say my final goodbyes.

Today, I saw my mother’s hanging photograph again for one more time and said to myself that when you are unwell and still there with me,  we understand each other’s silence. And we kept gazing at each other for hours. There were moments with no communication and yet there was so much of understanding. I always keep wondering how Ironic life is... when I was born, you understood my language without any name to it. Now when you are leaving me, I am understanding your language without you uttering a single word. isn’t it wonderment in itself? They say you have died & passed away . Amaa… you will always continue to live in my heart now Forever and Always. You didn't pass away, but you passed on you passed on your compassion, kindness & pure love.

Happy Mother’s Day, for one more time 

With Silence beyond words and immense gratitude, 

Aditya

                                                     The Embarrassing moment

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The very word ‘BICYCLE’ reminds me of my good old school days. I still remember how desperate I was for owning a cycle. Thanks to my uncle who gifted me a wonderful bicycle. Well, I guess, I was at the incipient stage of my 6^th class, when I had been gifted this. It was the very first kind of cycles having a shock absorber (A mechanical damper; which absorbs energy of sudden impulses). So, you know, it was like neighbour’s envy and owner’s pride. I used to take Unreasonable and inordinate self-esteem every moment I was on it. It was more than a girlfriend to me at least perhaps at that point of time. Long years ago, when my grandfather used to cycle, cycling for workout would have been a ludicrous idea. And it was broadly or extravagantly humorous; resembling farce. It is no more as people zip around in nippy cars and vehicles and worry about ways to puncture their waist tiers. And I badly wanted to own a bicycle of my own and what best can happen then get this beautiful entity gifted. But yes, there was a catch here.

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My uncle is from Indian Navy and synonymously second to discipline. He said to me that I can only get the luxury of a new bicycle if I show him significant progress in my yearly report. I was in class 6 then, and finally the day came when I was given my yearly progress report. Ironically fate had different plans for me, that year I couldn’t get the expected progress and I was far behind my expectations. I was completely disappointed, not because I got less marks but because I would lose a beautiful bicycle. So, I went home with a great disappointment and to my surprise I realized that my uncle happened to give us a surprise visit to our place on the same day but was not at home when I reached. So, inside my mind, I was thinking about all the permutations and combinations of ideas, that help me to get the bicycle first. In this process, I took the help of my innocent brother and was discussing secretly with him on where to hide the progress report and was checking his inputs. As always in my case, whenever I plan anything that should not be, I will get caught in the very first step itself…so was this for me, My uncle was sleeping on the floor other side of the bed and I didn’t notice him , thinking that he was away I was preparing the entire script and he overheard the entire conversation. Well, the rest is history…..Although my uncle gifted me with a beautiful bicycle but that came with a deserved punishment. I really don’t remember what I thought then but now if I think, I just smile about it and feel blessed that how I am corrected at the beginning of my mistakes ensuring my thought process is always right. I fondly call him “BujjI Babai” and he is my inspiration.  This was my most embarrassing and memorable moment.

Today for some reason I saw a kid on a cycle hit the pedal of exhilaration. Without the claustrophobic helmet, and I asked him if I can pedal the cycle for a while. As I hit the pedals after ages, the biker habits come into play. No matter how hard I resist, the right hand tries to rev up the non-existing accelerator. Then I forgot cyclists don’t have accelerator. And I saw  the U-turn, which  is yards away. But I felt it’s not a big deal, I have lifted up the bicycle and put it down on the other side of the divider. It seemed like weightlifting. Textbooks would suggest that cycling is exercise for calves and thighs, but in city it is definitely  for wrists, arms and shoulders. I couldn’t believe till the road became pathetically bad with  the potholes and the dug-up patches on the road, sent shockwaves of energy down my hand (my shock absorbers started behaving as shock receptors) . It funny and took me down the memory lane for one more time.

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A Journey to remember

I’ve been wildly blessed with many mentors in my life, from a brilliant Physicist who shaped my character through his fine example during my early 20s to my parents to all my uncles and aunts to my guru, whose teachings have been solace throughout my life’s journey.  Not to mention, perhaps the greatest influence, though, has come from my father.

...for showing me the path of acceptance and the beauty and freedom in it.

...for teaching me the gifts of patience.

...for year after year, offering wisdom that illuminated my path.

Few years before I was fortunate enough to get shortlisted for an interview for one of the premier mathematical research institutes. Being just out of high school then, my father decided to accompany me on this trip. Although this should be like a preparative & focussed trip somehow for me, it was more like a vacation. Maybe because it was the very first solo trip with my father. The entire trip was pure magic for me. My father has this habit of describing every place underlining the historical importance of the buildings, monuments, etc the place carries. Since ours was a long train journey and that to day-time journey, we had got plenty of time to talk and explore the place through the window. This was also perhaps the only time I have felt my father should have been a history teacher.

Well, our journey started from Hyderabad and slowly after terrible traffic and rush in the train station, we slowly settled in the compartment and we both got side opposite berths, which made our conversation much more fascinating. This was the time when I was completing my late teens and I had questions about almost everything. The moment the train started moving, my dad initiated a beautiful conversation out of nothing. We spoke about various stations, what’s famous in every station, how to be watchful etc. in fact this was the most memorable moment for me because I saw a friend in my dad. In the spirit of helpfulness, I wanted to share the best lesson I’ve learned from Dad. “Answer to any question is within oneself.”. At that age I didn’t understand this much, now after a decade or more, I am able to assimilate the meaning which is profoundly simple. And yet, simply profound statement.