NOSTALGIA - A TRUE TRIBUTE

Merry Christmas meant a call to my friend's home to wish his parents on the day as yours truly would cherish the high school days of dropping into their place for a slice of the cake. The mentoring us from "chaddies" to trousers included these homes which formed part of our lives. Visits between homes. Monkeying around the guava trees. Exchanging the niceties of the diverse living was part of this metamorphosis. Decades later too the bonds have only strengthened even as my friend chose to leave the shores for a livelihood. 

Visits to his abode meant discussions that ranged from the need for his parents to be with him to the need for him to settle into marital bliss. The parents at no time treated yours truly different from their own sons who struck new roots Down Under. Their marriages did not diminish the bond either. The fact that the parents aged or the nephew became a handsome muscular hunk only garnished the relationship into a more savoury one to relish. Talking of savouring, visits to his home meant his father testing the delicate appetite of yours truly while the maternal instincts of his mother would be stoked deftly with beseeching looks and words to minimise the quantums. His mother would remark that it would be necessary to finish it all for the audible ears while catered to the needs albeit partially by reducing the intake marginally. These episodes were looked at as entertaining by the siblings and nephew while the parents were concerned about this unhealthy appetite.

The years had manifested into decades and the oft remark of the father to remind that yours truly needs to obey him in soft but equally firm words were episodes both looked forward to. In the year gone by the mother had suddenly become frail.

She had been in and out of the hospital for the last six months and not much was read into it albeit the fact that the brothers flew down as though they were just returning home from workplace. However, this Christmas call being received by my friend did not sound right but was reassured on a visit to the hospital. The medico in yours truly ( a person who is an expert in amoeba drawings as far as biology is concerned) held out the hope that she would be back home and it was only the weather that had played spoilt sport.

But, the diagnosis had gone as awry as any of the attempts to draw out anything other than an amoeba. The Sunday call to ascertain whether she was back home to decide a time of visit to promise her that if she would make me a sweet cake this time around it would be devoured without any remorse appeared to be a bit too late as the response was grave. Pepping the brothers up albeit superficially yours truly retired with the hope of being the all round entertainer once more at his home. The hopes were belied on the next day morning as it was announced that the benign hostess had hung her boots.

Thus, Sankranti which happens to be the day on which another friend's father called it a day a few years ago became the day for the final journey for this friend's mother. 

The visit to the church took yours truly to the time when a classmate of ours had lost his father. The culture of condoling was imbibed into us by our class teacher who took us down to their abode followed by the mass at the church. The church also the venue for the weddings of the family as well as the 80th birthday celebrations of his father now was still in its Christmas festoons to bid farewell to this mother of many. The priest read the sermon and the family was in tears while yours truly was immersed in the memories of the days that could no more be reminisced with her but only cherished. Repeated references to resurrection of Christ only invoked the question as to whether there could be one now.

The fact that the rituals of all religions involved the sprinkling of water on or around the remains as well as the different fragrances which are placed nearby confirmed the belief that in times when medical facilities were not this advanced, man needed to be sure that the journey was indeed the last and was probably testing the mortal remains for any semblance of life. 

Last tributes paid, the journey was made to the last abode and the best consolation that one could offer to the bereaved was a silent presence. The vaccuum is now patent. It is for nothing that it is said that all bereavements leave a void. Hard to come to terms but as it is said Time is the best healer. The time has now come for us to set ourselves as role models for the next generation as the earlier generation has done unto us.