I once visited a friend of a friend in Mizoram. There was a mound in the side
of the drawing room. Not knowing the significance I observed that the floor was
not level and that gentleman solemnly said that his martyred son was sleeping
there.
On Thursday, 7 September, 2023 at 07:24:49 pm IST, Rajaram Krishnamurthy
<keyarinc...@gmail.com> wrote:
Lonely Life of Parents of a Martyred Son!
Last week, my hubby and I decided to visit an old friend of my dad living in
Delhi. He is a retired officer from the Indian army. Very fine couple, well
spoken, very well read and widely traveled! They had a son who they lost during
the Kargil war, but they never show any trace of Pain on their face.
On the face of it, everything appears lovely, but the deep set of wrinkles on
aunty’s face tell a different tale altogether. Countless jokes from uncle,
humor packed texture of his conversation, does a brilliant job camouflaging
their Pain with grace, dignity and elegance. We had a wonderful time being with
them. Since they are old associates of my dad, my hubby who is also serving the
Indian Army, also had a gala time. Uncle and aunty told some very funny, real
life incidents of their Army Life.
Soon, their caretaker served us tea and with each simmering sip, came an
even more interesting chain of events from my uncle's well preserved memory
bank. I was wondering how they could talk endlessly, without a pause.
After we were done with tea, I got up to collect all the cups and the other
things to keep in a tray so that I could keep those back in the kitchen. But I
was stopped by a very authoritative and stern voice ”Noo, Please do not move
those cups from there.”
I was astounded by his reaction, was taken aback and looked at aunty if I
had ruffled his feathers by any action of mine. My heart was in my mouth,
literally. But then, Aunty looked at uncle and said softly "Tussi bhi naa,
Bacche nu dara hi ditta. Thora aram naal bhi keh sakde ho.” ("You scared the
child. Could have said it more softly").
Uncle realised the sudden change in his voice and very sweetly he sat next
to me, held my hand and what he spoke after that, made me cry from within. It
was so painful, simple, yet so profound.
Softly he spoke "Beta ji...in cups ko aise hee rehne do, subah tak nahi
uthayenge. Kuchh toh ehsaas hoga ki zindagi yahan aayi thi. ("My loving
daughter, please leave these cups like that only, will not remove them till
morning. We also should have the feeling that LIFE had come here.). The house
always remains spic n span, nothing is moved or disturbed and is kept as it is.
Ham taras jaate hain ki koi toh ghar ko ganda karne wala ho ("We long for
someone to come to our house and make it dirty). So let the cups stay that way.
We will cherish the sight of it and promise me that you will visit us again
with your sons.”
All I could do was to hug him and assure him to be back with my sons. I like
my house to be neatly organised and make sure my boys follow suit too, but my
younger one still believes in living like a caveman. So, as usual, when I was
lecturing him today after seeing the plight of his room, I got reminded of this
episode and suddenly, I stopped lecturing him and gave him a suffocating hug
leaving him confused to the core.
I think, taking out an hour in a month to visit your Parents, Old relatives or
Old friends, doesn’t cost us an arm and a leg. All it takes is a few stolen
minutes from our lives.
PAIN is known only by the One who has it. A little Kindness, Caring,
Sympathetic Attitude & Empathy, shall only add to your own HAPPINESS, PEACE,
SATISFACTION & sense of WELL BEING. KR IRS 7923 as recd
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