My dad's younger brother, Chacha Sat, "bid farewell and passed into another sphere of the universe" as poetically announced by Sim Sim on whatsapp yesterday. So, off we went to lend a hand, pay respect and show her and my Chachi Sado support. Having anticipated that I would shed a tear, I dreaded the moment I would step into their house. For some unknown reason though, upon reaching there, no particular emotion ran through me. On the contrary, I felt rather desensitized in front of the 'agony' displayed by my aunts; Poupou Anita throwing herself on the couch and going berserk was more of a scary sight than a sad one. As one of the youngest sisters, she has always been deeply attached to all her siblings and losing one brother after another at every decade must be indescribably painful knowing that at the end of the day, chances are, she might be the last tree standing. I think I was too busy being practical and caught up in the hal chal of how to get things organized to have time to mourn properly.
Two days earlier I had had the honor of attending Antish's elder sister, Hanshinee's engagement ceremony. It was a delight to witness how happily and fully involved her whole family was in the event. I had reached the place with a knot in my stomach (overly)conscious that I was going to be subjected to scrutiny or maybe ridicule. The sound of the busy household however became a music so pleasing to the ear that it quickly made me realize that the whole thing was not about me anyway. As I watched this parivar coming together in joy and laughter I wished that growing up I, too, could have experienced this warm feeling of belonging. Every family is unique and relationships can be nurtured with love but sometimes [and sadly] with resentments too.
Talking about resentment, how immensely wide the gap between both experiences has been finally; on one hand I had witnessed bonding within a happy family and on the other, the tragedy of sisters and brother not talking - if not to defy one another. I found myself standing in a place where mourning was more about the death of relationships than about the departed himself. 'Behaviors speak as much as actions' said the pandit as we were about to head towards the cremation ground and looking at the crowd gathered in the yard, those words resonated profoundly within us yesterday.
Chacha Sat died just like he lived; quickly, sharply, energetically. He was admitted at 2pm to hospital on Monday, moved to ICU 30 minutes later, passed away at 2am and by 3pm the following day his funeral was already over, à l’image du personage, a restless character always in a rush to go God-knows-where. I will remember him as the adult who brought my brother and I to a horse stable in Albion as kids and showed us how to pat those noble creatures. Also comes to my mind the time he won a second-hand VW beetle in a lottery at a school fancy-fair or how he was always in a hurry to leave a place, be it a haldi, a birthday party or a funeral, calling out to his wife ' kot sa tifi la? A nou allé ene fois ta tifi, to pou ress la to pou bakko meme, to pou fer to sovaz meme la" (yeah, he wasn't the softest of persons). He wore a hat, stylishly, like JR in Dallas but he was also always busy entertaining deranged and incoherent conversations or writing weird stories about him being a CIA agent working for the US government (freaky. very freaky. yet captivating). More affectionately, I will always remember that the last time we visited him he made us roti and sang "jeena yahan, marna yahan, iske siva jaana kahan" to us.
True to his Sewtohul genes, Chacha Sat created a strange bubble inside which he lived and the souvenir of him makes me hesitate between which smile to wear. Of the different types of existing smiles, only a handful are related to something positive, the rest happen when we're embarrassed or out of incredulity. If I had to choose my pick though, I think I'd go for one which oscillates between happy and dampened.
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May your soul be blessed Chacha 2000v
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