Pratima

When I think about my mawsi, the image that comes to my mind is not that of someone who has died but rather that of someone who has suddenly walked away from life, unprepared. This fills me with sadness.

Didi Pratim passed away on Monday evening, leaving her husband, her children and my mother brokenhearted. Back home from the funeral, the latter told me the following story:

- Ene fois kan nou ti bien tipti, mone gagne laguerre ek Pratim, mone mette li lor lili mo batt li, batt li, batt li, gros,gros kalott. Line saisi, line ress en place. Apres sa mone gayn sagrin, sagrin, sagrin. Mone penser kuma mone batt mo ti soeur et mo lekerr in gros. Zamé mo pane re-laguerr are li encore depi sa. Nou fine ress dakor ek proche toute longue nou la vie. 

Mo soeur ti content mwa extra buku, li ti frazile frazile et tout le temps mone rode protez li. Kouma li ti content kan mone amene li promener l'Inde ek mwa. Sak fois li tane dire mone gagne kiksoz, harr-harr, li pou galoupé li pou vine gett mwa, li pou maye moi li pou plorer.

This paragraph sums up perfectly a sisterly bond that lasted over 07 decades. I feel for my mother, losing her two brothers was hard enough but this unexpected demise of her sister has come as a terrible blow to her.

As for me, I have attended 03 funerals within 04 days, all due to a strange set of circumstances which has undoubtedly left me with scars. I need to find a way to process all the shock and sorrow accumulated during this black September.

At home, I have this picture portraying my nani, mum, didi Pratim, mamou Babu and mamou Sanju. It was taken in 1950 and I often look at it. It brings me to a place that I have certainly not known but which makes me feel secure and comfortable, as if all the rough edges of life had been removed at the moment the photograph was being taken. I often ask myself how come I feel nostalgic about a period that I have never lived in and I figure that it probably comes down to creating or editing a world in my head.

Until we meet again in my nostalgia, goodbye for now didi Pratim

                       

Apocalyptic September

September! What are you doing to us? You will be remembered as the month where we lost Valsha, where Farah's cancer is worsening, where Vimla’s and Shaf’s respective mothers have been admitted into ICU into critical states, where Anikesh's mother has been diagnosed with terminal cancer and where my mum’s younger sister, Didi Pratima has been diagnosed with renal failure.

My mawsi fell into a coma for a few hours last Tuesday and gave us the fright of our lives. Since then, we have been visiting her every morning at hospital and even if we are relieved that the dialysis treatment is finally working on her, the pain she seems to be going through is almost unbearable to watch. To make things worse, in the midst of all this apocalypse, a fight also broke at home opposing my two sisters to my mum. I suddenly found myself rushing from work to pacify a situation which left me with a pretty ugly scar - I had to put a band aid on my heart and contain my frustration for a day or two. To top it all, I had a rather infuriating argument with Antish yesterday. It happens very rarely that we argue but when we do, it leaves me with a deep sense of uneasiness and discomfort because he is the sweetest and most (over) sensitive person I know and I am aware that my brashness can easily annoy him.

Well, what can I say? We have entered the Pitru Paksha period and my guess is that there is a resurgence of negativity in the air that we need to bear with - I forgot to mention that calamity struck again at the office. We have until the 28^th of September for this inauspicious period to reach its end. I am doing my best to rise above all this but please September, please , please, please, no more bad omens, that’s just as much that I can deal with for the time being.

Grief...

Monday 02nd September

4.30am: the phone rings and you hear the sobbing voice of your friend informing you that one of your besties is no more. It is the kind of information that your brain, your heart, your whole body cannot process rightaway so you just lie there in bed, face this abrupt void and let the tears to flow.

On Thursday, my life made perfect sense, by Monday I had no clue what it was all about anymore.

Valsha had both sides to her, she was lovely and raw, daring and traditional, the larger-than-life kind of person who walks into a room and immediately fills it up with charismatic presence. She would irritate you while making you laugh at the same time, she would voice out her opinion about just anything and when crossed she would start throwing tantrums at everyone as she would never settle for petty things.

We may not have seen eye to eye on all the time but the respect that Valsha and I showed towards each other grew stronger over the years and transformed into a real bond. I saw in her someone fierce who stood by her values and would openly reject any bullshit. She became disheartened by people she was close to and who disappointed her, so I can understand that she chose to move away from them. What else could one expect from someone whose benchmark was not to be trifled with?

I grieve the sad demise of a dear friend today and I shall carry the sound of her voice in my head and the memory of her passionate being in my heart. I will remember her as a daughter who loved her Maligaye unconditionally to the extent of building her a house and provide her with the 'respectability' she thought she had been deprived of during those years she was growing up. I will always remember her as that woman who valued friendship above everything.

I am not mad at life for having taken you away, Val. I simply choose to believe that you came to do your duty on this earth and even if you have left us behind grieving for some time, I will forever be grateful to life to have shared the experience of your friendship during precious and valuable years.

What a package you were my Valsha...