23 December, 2011
Life – does not miss an exclamation mark. Death – does not miss a full stop……
The pen paused and Narmada drew a deep breath. She could not bring forth anything onto the diary as her mind circled back in time. The old wooden swing, the long corridor from the main door to the backyard, the clanking vessels, the dangled paces to the temple, prying through the window to catch a glimpse of passer-bys, sour buttermilk and homemade shampoo for the hair, the dingy store room, the adjacent pond, the reverberating school; all seemed lost forever with her grandma's demise. What remained was her last living visual when Narmada visited her uncle’s home. She was glad that her daughter could meet her great grandmother.
Memories kept swinging in her mind coupled with seemingly futuristic worries. She wondered if she could muster courage, like her mother, in a similar situation. The very thought gave here tremors eased by wishful thinking. Her daughter’s gurgling laughter kindled one of those. If Life was a wishing tree she would have asked for all her beloved ones to be with her always, living sans loss, grief, pain, sorrow, time to be constant, go back to best moments at will…..
“She had a peaceful end”, Uncle said when Narmada called him in the evening. They had just got back home from the cremation ground. The grand old man who lost his companion, had been quite calm, she was told.
She reflected on her thoughts that had wandered tumultuously through the night and the next day; her way of coping with the loss, perhaps. She said a small prayer and went back to her diary to the jotting of the previous day and wrote.
Life is a bountiful wishing tree; the sore fruits make the good ones more delicious and precious! Death is just a pause to thank life and move on….