MOVING GOALPOSTS

Lalita Iyer Musings

A very young friend passed away. He had a complicated health issue, but he survived several surgeries over three and half years and came back stronger, only to suddenly pass away. I have always admired his parents, both very dear friends, one a dreamer, the other practical. And the loss, tremendous to both of them. I pray for their strength.

While mulling over this sudden vacuum in their lives, another friend returned to Hyderabad after living abroad for a few years, saying he wanted to die here, in Hyderabad, in his country, in his janambhoomi. He is also a little sick. Wish death could come when we wish it. Would we have taken equal number of rebirths.

Then I thought of my father and this July 12th it will be five years and I missed him totally and sobbed my sinuses away. I was sitting in the exact same space as he in, what is now our living space.

All this happened within 24 hours. I saw a small movie "Aunty Ji", with Shabana Azmi and an acid attack survivor, played by real-life survivor and activist Anmol Rodriguez. Touching and yet realistic enough.

Then another reel called Second Sanch, with Renuka Shahane and Ananth Mahadevan, where it discusses children, retirement homes, cancer and second chances.

This made me think, in a reflective kind of way, about the challenges in life. Our goalposts also keep changing. What does one do? With children abroad or living elsewhere and living their own life, is it fair to ask them to be the support system one wants? And like me, what if you have no children.

There was a time when generations did live together. Slower days, larger houses, generous hearts.

Or is it that we think friends will come and spend the evening time with us, when somehow along with the sunset and approaching night, one loses control over what will happen. A large noisy household would not allow such thoughts to enter the head. Or who knows?

I think we should have a counsellor, a doctor and a few friends on speed dial. Skip the immediate family.

Or why aren't there people who can come and read out to you? Meanwhile I realize how limited my reach can be because I only read in English (I can read Gujarati, but the person listening to me must feel happy about my reading. My Hindi being equally limited).

I think I have shared similar thoughts earlier too and maybe because of the above incidents that I am thinking these sobering thoughts. For, otherwise even an oddly shaped cloud distracts me. And when the sun shines, I feel alive. And I can just gawk at trees, construction workers, the turtle dove which has come back for the sixth time and be entirely entranced.

And these days there is FIFA and the Wimbledon. What a huge distraction. Just to think so many people bought tickets to fill up the stadiums to watch the football/tennis matches is mind boggling. And Donald Trump continues to play the interfering clown even in sports, on an international stage.

While I am at crossroads and wondering how to handle the onset of doubts, my favourite Aunty Acid, that tongue-in-cheek, witty and sassy lady also posted a sober one. That got to me.

– Lalita Iyer 

  Senior Journalist