So, where are the tears?
But I think I am a bad person sometimes. When I heard the news, I did not shed a single tear. I thought I was in shock. But I wasn’t. Do you find that strange? Because I was quite normal and went about the usual stuff, as usual. Maybe because we knew she has not been well the last month? Remember I told you she was diagnosed with lung fibrosis a month ago? Well, good for her she was back in India and met all the people she wanted to see. Except me.
The last time we met was in December 2009 when she dropped by to see us when she was visiting with her granddaughter. I also remember how upset you were that she hardly chatted with you. Subsequently, we chatted on the phone a few times, but you know what? No one really asked any details about you, leaving me always with the thought that you mattered when you were healthy and able to do things for others. Not that am surprised.
I just wish you were with me now – we would have talked about so many things. Oh, we still will, except it will be a monologue in my head. And Mi, am not rushing over there to participate in the death rites. I’ll probably be scolded to death over it, but that is okay. I just can’t stand the rituals combined with socializing. I know they say that no matter what you miss, must never miss attending a death announcement. I beg to differ. So maybe I am crazy to think like that. That’s okay, too.
But I do plan to make a day trip to see Mama and a couple of others as soon as Vidur’s hols begin. And I’ll probably be at the receiving end of you know what.
Oh, but I have to tell you this, though. Just a couple of days ago, N. visited us and we had a pleasant time. That night, I had some bhayankar bad dreams. I didn’t remember anything about it though, after I woke up. Then the day before yesterday night, I dreamed that P’ma had passed away – I remember it so clearly you know? Imagine, when we got the phone call around 5 pm in the evening – I immediately remembered the dream.
My intuitions have always been strong, except when you were in the hospital. Wonder why I didn’t even imagine you’d be no more? Probably because I thought you’d live forever? Because I wanted you to? Yes. I never even thought about a situation where you’d not be there. You were only 64. Why would I even think that? Death may be inevitable, but that does not mean I have to be sensible, cool and calm about yours.
