"Daddy
Is No More, Grandpa!"
The phone
rang early in the morning. I could not answer it. Mornings in our house revolve
around a water emergency. We have only half an hour to finish every chore that
needs water. There is no choice. If we miss that window, we must wait until the
next day.
Later, I
checked my mobile and saw that the call had come from Keerthan. Years ago, his
family lived in the portion next to ours. I called back and asked, "What
is it, Keerthan? Why did you call so early?"
Instead of
his voice, I heard his daughter's.
"Grandpa,
Daddy is gone."
"Where
did he go, dear? He just called me."
"No,
Grandpa. I was the one who called. Daddy has gone to God."
The words
stunned me.
Keerthan was
about the same age as my elder son. He
had two children.
My heart
ached for Lakshmi. What a cruel burden life had placed upon her.
I got up
immediately and headed to their house. On the way, I stopped at an ATM and
withdrew some money.
Among my
seven brothers in law, I closely observed the habits of two.
My brother
in law Hanumantha Rao bava would visit
anyone who fell seriously ill and quietly hand over some money to help the
family.
My another brother in law Appa Rao bava followed a different practice. He observed the
Dasara Navaratri rituals with great devotion. He rarely attended weddings or
other joyful celebrations. But the moment he heard that someone had passed
away, he would rush to the bereaved family. As soon as he arrived, he would
offer them some financial help. Many people hesitate to give money on such
occasions, but he never. I admired both
of these men for their compassion.
As the Uber
carried me to Keerthan's house, my thoughts stayed with his family.
One day,
after my wife passed away, I was sitting alone at home, writing something. When
I looked up, I saw Keerthan, Lakshmi, and their children standing before me.
"I came
to see Mother, wearing the sari she gave me," Lakshmi said.
At first, I
did not understand. On the day my wife passed away, Lakshmi had been with us.
So which mother had she come to see?
Lakshmi and
Keerthan had married for love. After their wedding, they rented the apartment
next to ours. Since it was a love marriage and inter religion , it took time
for both families to accept the relationship. During that difficult period, my
wife became a mother to Lakshmi. More accurately, Lakshmi accepted my wife as
her own mother. She always called her "Amma."
Their bond
grew stronger with time.
When Lakshmi
became pregnant, my wife organized her baby shower at our home and invited
relatives and friends. My second sister in law, Vimala, also joined the
celebration with great affection.
Whenever
Keerthan and Lakshmi went out for work, my wife cared for their children as if
they were her own. She did more than that. She embraced a young woman as her
daughter. Eventually, they moved to another house, but the relationship
remained.
Lakshmi is
highly educated and possesses every qualification needed to become a lecturer.
Since opportunities did not come easily, she first joined a small elementary
school near our home as a teacher. She worked hard, gained experience, and
eventually secured a position as a lecturer at a corporate college.
Both of
their children were born before our eyes. We watched them grow. Since they are
children of a teacher, they naturally excelled in their studies.
That day
happened to be a Holi holiday. Keerthan brought his wife and children to our
house.
While my
wife was alive, she had gifted Lakshmi a sari during a festival. Lakshmi wore
that very sari when she came to visit. She also brought several tiny cotton
frocks for my infant granddaughter Jeevika, carefully searching for the smallest sizes
because it was summer.
In those
days, my elderly wife was Lakshmi's mother.
Now, she had
begun calling my little granddaughter "Amma." She firmly believed
that her beloved mother had returned in the child's form. She rejoiced in that
thought.
The meanings
hidden within human relationships often escape easy explanation.
I reached
Keerthan's house.
He lay in a
glass topped freezer box, asleep in a long and silent sleep.
A deep sense
of helplessness filled me. Perhaps, in the end, no one escapes that final sleep
inside a freezer.
Lakshmi
burst into tears when she saw me. I did not know how to comfort her. I gently
took her aside, placed the money I had brought into her hands, and said,
"Please do not misunderstand. Think of this as something your father has
given you."
After
speaking to the children, I quietly left.
Postscript
May God
grant wisdom and goodwill to everyone.
This
happened many years ago.
Dew, the daughter
of Keerthan and Lakshmi, was still in primary school.
Her mother
was a teacher. Her father was an artist.
The family
followed the Christian faith. Dew passed the entrance examination with the
highest rank at a well known school run by a Muslim organization. Encouraged by
her parents, she also joined a music school run by a Hindu religious
institution.
The teachers
there were captivated by the way she recited the Krishnashtakam and the Shivashtakam.
They selected her to perform during the cultural programs held as part of that
year's Maha Shivaratri celebrations.
"Dew"
means a drop of morning dew.
Today, that
little girl studies in the first year of engineering.
It was she
who called me this morning and said,
"Grandpa..."
(To be
continued.)
