It is almost 5:30 am now.
A time, by which most self-respecting South-Indians would be up.
Though self-respecting I am, barely a South-Indian I have remained.
It has been 5 days already, when I received a call around this time of the day (5:14 am to be precise) from my brother, informing me that my mother’s twin sister was no more. It all happened in 24 hours.
Our biggest worry was my mother and what effect it would have on her. As expected, she has suffered much. She misses her twin terribly and she keeps talking about their daily chats on the phone. My aunt was suffering from Alzheimer’s and she remembered mom vividly.
Grief has its own mechanism. Strikes you on its rhythm and when least expected. And without any warning, exactly at what precise point, it starts troubling you, tormenting you, no one can hazard a guess. Only, you are left powerless.
I get up daily around that time, double-checking my phone for any missed calls, potter around the house, adjusting the chairs, and setting the mess left behind by my nocturnal children, right. But I too have slept only around 1:30 odd pm.
I fear about receiving calls about my parents…There I said it. It is such a debilitating, piercing, naked pain.
I feel vulnerable now that I have said it out loud. Husband and family understand when I tell them about my fears. They say ‘stay positive’, (Hardly the term to use in these circumstances but…) and stop inviting negative vibrations. I concur but that beastly thought remains till it pops up at early morns like this.
Now that I have bled on paper, I feel better. Just about! Slightly!
That said, I’m no stranger to death. I have seen death from the closest quarters possible and the scars it leaves behind on loved ones. The dead have it easier, only the living end up paying the price.
So I sush the devilish mind, keep pushing myself and lose track of time in domestic drivel and inanities, till I’m physically exhausted and there is no scope for hyper-ventilating or extrapolation.
Till I get up with a start and pen random thoughts like this.
Increasingly, I find myself going back to prayers and meditation. If nothing much, they help me be slightly calmer. Another example of aging!
This too shall pass, because that is the name of the game.
Keep the faith and march on!