Living with death

I have lit two funeral pyres in two months. 

The first - in February 2017, for my 88 year old aunt ( Usha Masi, my mother's elder sister , who was like a mother to my mother  ) . She had been ailing for two years after suffering a series of debilitating brain strokes. 

The second- exactly two months from the first - for - unbelievably , my mother - my Ammji - three days before she would have turned 72. Unbelievable Because of the way events happened on that fateful day. Everything was fine when the day started, she got ready , I spoke to her on the phone, she was cheerful and affectionate as usual , Then she did her regular morning routine, had her breakfast , was reading the newspaper ( Speaking Tree) when she apparently had a silent cardiac arrest , and in the course of 2-3 minutes, passed away. 

As I write this, I am getting the shivers because that day, the 18 th of April, is coming back to me. My fingers are shaking . The grief and shock from this unexpected happening has been overwhelming. 

It seems incredible that something like this should happen. And happen to me. 

One was an expected death, the other an absolutely unexpected one. I never imagined - after speaking to her on the phone when she was nice, relaxed and cheerful - that my world would  change forever in a couple of hours. 

These life altering events have given me the following lessons - 

1.  There is impermanence , there is a massive amount of unpredictability about life .

2. It's a fact that everyone will go. Including the ones we love the most. 

3. Everything comes to naught in the face of this ultimate truth - death. all the things we hold so dear , our worldly possessions , our clothes, our gadgets, our bank accounts, our real estate , our precious metals, our stocks , our property , our vanity, our big egos.... Everything just simply vanishes and becomes absolutely irrelevant when the one breath distance between life and death is covered. 

4. When something like this happens, nothing Matters, nothing counts . When you lose your mother, you lose the most loved and precious relationship that has been with you from day zero. There is no greater a loss that can be. All that remains  are the memories of moments that have been shared. 

As I try to come to terms with this overwhelming loss, I experience two things - 

1. A feeling of pain and regret

2. A feeling of happiness

Regret for the things I could have done that could have given me more time with my mother. The times I wasn't attentive enough , the times I wasn't with her because I was doing something else or going someplace else. In the last two weeks, I have scrolled through my phone's photo albums numerous times. When scrolling through the photos on my phone for the last two years , I was ruthlessly swiping away the photos that did not have my mother - more out of a sense of anger at myself for doing all  the other things that I did. Added to the angst is the feeling of Pain at  - " Why me ? " "why did I have to lose my mother when she was JUST 72 and in good health, when she could have easily carried on for another 10-15 years going by general statistics ? " 

On the other side of the spectrum,  lies the feeling of happiness. 

Happiness for all the wonderful moments that I shared with her. For The vast multitude of experiences with her. For The numerous journeys of thousands of miles I undertook just to be with her for a few hours. For The thousands of phone calls from all over the world at all kinds of times just to listen to her voice for a few minutes. 

Happiness as I reminisce about the affection, love and care that I was fortunate to receive from her. Happiness while reminiscing about all the love she shared with the others I love - my father, my sister, my aunts, uncles, cousins , friends, colleagues . Happiness at the love she shared with her grand children- Jaadoo, Meher, Divit. 

Happiness at the joy and laughter we shared , the things we did together. 

Happiness at the thousands of conversations we had together, her straight-from-the-heart take on all things at all times. 

Happiness at our playful interactions in which  she would run after me with with food saying I eat very less . 

Happiness at the games of cricket, carrom, badminton, snakes & ladders we played so often. 

Happiness at my first ( and last ) cricket triple century ( as a six year old ) with Ammji as the bowler in our verandah in calcutta. 

In all these moments of happiness , there was Her absolute, blind, unconditional and humbling faith in whatever I did - and in whichever way I did....

In the first few days after her death, I see her everywhere. There is someone walking in from another room, there's someone entering through the door, there is someone standing in front of the fridge - every time I feel it's Ammji who's just round the corner . 

A few days later - I am conversing with her . Conversing with her picture . Conversing with her image in my mind. 

There is a photo of hers  that we have kept on the dining table and in the living room . It's a real, life like picture. I keep talking to Ammji whenever I see the picture . I keep Saying things like - I have woken up, I am going to eat this , I am going there, someone is calling, someone has come, I am thinking of doing this.....  And i frame a response as  she would have - in her own loving , sweet and caring manner .  

I also recall her other pet sentences numerous times  - " Never refuse anyone who asks you for something". She lived the credo - as someone who gave everything and took nothing . 

I listen to her favourite things - the shabads , the Juthika Ray songs, the Gita second chapter , the Gayatri Mantra, the Mahamrityunjaya mantra. 

I try to put the earlier question of "why should this happen to me " in another perspective - I tell myself - I am the chosen one - I have been extremely fortunate to have been born to Ammji, extremely fortunate to have been raised by her and to have been with her all these times. 

And with that thought , I begin to see reflections of my mother in people around me - reflections of hers in every mother, in every place where there is affection and love. 

I repeat to myself the words she always told me every morning after our phone call - " Ab ache se apna kaam kariye " (Now do your work very well ). That charges me up. It builds a kind of layer around me. A layer that loves, a layer that protects and a layer that gives warmth . It inspires me to live up to what she wrote on a whiteboard for me this year on the 26 th of Janauary , Republic Day. It was on the lines of the famous song - she wrote - Saare Jahan se achcha, Deepak Hamara, Hamara.. ( Our Deepak is the best in the world )

I haven't ever felt more warmth , more love. At the same time , having lived through death so closely in the last couple of months, there is no more fear. I haven't felt more fearless in my life any time before.  And I have been thankful to God for having blessed me with Ammji- maybe for a million times in the last couple of weeks. 

Feeling Loved, fearless and blessed. What else would anyone want ? 

That is why, in spite of having lit two funeral pyres in the last two months, I am eternally grateful for this extremely fortunate life.