Saturday, May 4, 2024

Goodbye my angel mother

When you get physically hurt, you may not feel the pain the immediately. The worst is invariably reserved for after. Same with any kind of mental agony. The real pain is felt the next day and the day after. The vacuum of my mother's absence still haunts me, the lacunae in my heart will remains forever. 

Bereavement can a great leveller. Sensing my sombre mood the person sitting next to me in the Virgini Atlantic flight from Heathrow to Delhi left me an entire stretch of 3 seats to sleep by stepping away to another seat in a flight with a good number of empty seats. After a long time, I could sleep in a supine pose, but could hardly get any. 

Tragedy often happens without warning. I have traveled long way in a short time. From leading a regular, smooth sailing family - work life, suddenly I had to fly 10,000 miles over 40,000 feet across 10 time zones, from a comfortable 80 degrees (25°C) to 110 degrees (42°C) in couple of days, heavy headed because of lack of sleep due stress and family bereavement. I was feeling like a confused, walking zombie when I stepped out of the Bhubaneswar Airport. And my journey didn't end there. It was just the beginning. In less than 48 hours my world seems to have turned upside down.

It was far from a normal arrival at home. For the first time in my life I wasn't welcomed with the usual cheerfulness, rather cries and sobbings. I missed my mom's smile, standing at the doorstep, embracing me saying "TU JHADI JAICHU, KALA PADI JAICHU (How much have you thinned, looking dull). There would be hardly any visible sign of my weight loss and I am expected to look dull after a long, gruelling travel across the globe. This time I could feel the void left by her. I may be the apple of your eyes, you are my star in the heaven. 

Even in her death my mother was looking fair and lovely, for she has a very fair skin color and envy of many for her fair complexion, something much cherished. She was lying cold and quite, at peace with herself. When I saw her my teary eyes burst like a dam. She was attired in a Red Saree, Sindoor (vermillion) and covered in marigold flowers during the visitations. Many ladies in our locality came and touched her feet, for it is believed that touching feet of a woman who passed away before her husband's is auspicious. 

The summer sun was blazingly hot, pouring fire at noon. But fortunately it didn't feel so bad as it was breezy. Always wished my next trip to Puri to spend time with family in some luxury resort. Never thought myvisit to the temple township will be to cremate my mother. As Tom Hanks famously said - "Life is like a box of chocolates. You do not know what you are going to get".

SWARGADWAR (Gateway to Heaven) of Puri is a well known cremation ground. It is believed that if one get cremated there, the person gets a straight ticket to heaven. The venue was quite busy with several pyres burning, one body arriving after another. The process has been streamlined these days. Swirling smoke was spiraling up in the air, slowly thinning, melting away into the gusty sea breeze. It reminded me that eventually all your money, power and fame one day will go up in smoke and it will be just the ashes which will remain as residue. 

I, being the only son had to follow the long list of rituals needed at the cremation ground. I was very bad at it. But when I repeated a Sanskrit phrase after him before lighting the funeralpyre, the priest complimenting me saying - "You have a good menory". The first step was to take a dip in the sticky, salty sea water of the Bay of Bengal, followed by lighting my mother's funeral pyre with MUKHAGNI (fire to the mouth to ignite pyre). In minutes her body was consigned to flames, leaving only her memory etched inside me forever. The sight and the vastness of the sea reminded me how transactional is our life. A burst of sea breeze bore the testimony of life gone with the wind. I heard of the term SMASHANA BAIRAGYA (the bereavement detachment). In last 48 hours, I realized it having traversed a long way.

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