A Tribute To My Father's Seventh Death Anniversary
We were ransacking all the possible places of our small native town for one Oxygen Cylinder all through the noon. The sky remained overcast just as it was since the day break, but fortunately no downpour was there to dampen our sprit of finding out one Oxygen Cylinder for my ailing father.
Sudip, my friend, was very compassionate and cooperative. He was also circling out the town with me to get me with one Cylinder that actually is not empty, and that actually works!
Finally, when the mid day sun was beginning to lean down towards the Western Horizon, we managed to discover one working Cylinder; and more over, one assistant to operate and control the Cylinder for the patient.
We hurried back home and the Cylinder was immediately attached to my Father, suffering from the most advanced stage of Carcinoma Pancreas. He was admitted to the local hospital for three or four days and now is released home as the condition is now way out of the reach of Medical Science….nothing could be done now to survive him back…except some temporary medical relief and prayer and waiting patiently for the ultimate moments to come.
The entire household…family members…relatives and neighbours…all were waiting patiently with mellowed heart and moist eyes.
All of them knew one thing for certain…but nobody knew the exact time…..
The certainty of the end of life was inevitable, but in the most uncertain and unsettled way. Everybody had only one question rattling in their minds….When…When…When…???
It came, sooner and smoother than we all expected it to come. The Oxygen Cylinder was hardly been used…and then….all on a sudden it lost all its relevance!
A 62 years vivacious journey through the paths of life came to a halt. And there lied my Father…calm and serene…my peacefully closed eyed dear. A faint smile was still lurking at his lips—may be to tell us that he is actually leaving with no pains and may be, his smile just indicated that he had already started to find some long departed friends in a place that he dwells now and that is far beyond the reach of our human knowledge and perception.
I was sitting at one dark corner of a neighbouring building…with some vacant look in my eyes…a complete looser by body language…sitting there I could hear the wailings in the house and the lamentation, but honestly, they were hardly having any effect on my heart and mind. Several times I tried my level best to cry out loud…but no drops came out of my utterly dry eyes…no wailing came out of my chocked and cracked throat.
Then came the time, my father had to accomplish his last long voyage to the Burning Ghat, may be that’s the official ritual to send a departed soul to its native place…the land he came from…the Utopia of all our Dreams…The Garden of Eden!
There he goes….resting on a bed of stacked wood…with coats of lubricants all over the ice cold body…..a little fuel and the sound of a match stick lightning…….
All he left is some thick black smoke and heaps of ashes…
And the rest…..
The rest is all memories….
Memories….Remembrances…..and a framed photograph that is slowly and silently turning to gray with the progress of time….
