This month has been a roller coaster. The cough that started last month never went away. The racking cough caused enough concerns; but it finally checked out, after many tests, to be just allergies. For the last 20 years I have more often than not ended up with an allergic cough after a virus; this time was no different. The BP levels are slightly high partly because of the immuno-suppresant medications and the medications for the BP have caused the creatine levels to be a little high. That dance continues; thankfully all of these are just marginally above normal. The allergies caused a lot of lethargy and tiredness; means, I spent most of last month sleeping! Most allergy interventions involve steroids and we decided that we will not have them and wait this out. It has been hard work.
Dad also had an emergency “Gall bladder removal”. Thankfully, it went through without any complications. He was in the hospital for about a week and is convalescing with us now. Kids are well and seem to be completely involved in the various things offered by their environments. Nisha is travelling with her ModelUnitedNations team and Ashwin has started to play in the LA futsal/soccer leagues. We do not get many calls on weekends. Amita thinks that they are busy studying and preparing for the upcoming week!!!
Musings
Sometime in my late 30’s I learnt to dance (other might call it by a different name!) like “no one was watching”. It is always incredibly liberating and fun. Give me a beat and a dance floor and I am there for hours. The community I live in, organizes a great Diwali party, with terrific music and I have always enjoyed it before my illness. 2012, I was flat on the bed. 2013, I struggled to my house balcony and watched it from a distance with a mask for fear of infections. Oct 2014 – Amita and I went to the party, and thanks to a few friends, I got on the dance floor. I could have looked at this as an incredible moment and a marker in the passage of progress but I found myself flooded with memories of the last 2 years and the absurdly difficult times. The flood, like most floods, just happened. I could almost see the multiple ways of looking at this, but being pushed to the more difficult interpretation of the event. I did not resist it and just waited for this “emotional rush” to pass by. I did not try to label it as less desirable, or try to change it into a more positive way of looking at things. I looked at it as an onrush of universal intent and “waited it out”.
India’s favourite cricketer, Virat Kohli, passing through a slump, had this to say about it.
“As Dhoni said after the last game, it is something every cricketer goes through. I need to respect it. God has been kind. I have had a decent run over the last four-five years. I need to respect that patch. Working hard in the nets. Just waiting for that one big knock. It is easy to get into the technical part of it, and mess up your head. I am a confident player, and a big believer of visualizing. If you are sorted in your head, technique falls into place. If you have got runs in the past, there is no reason you shouldn’t continue to get it. It doesn’t take the opposition five years to realise what your weakness is. I have been bowled at in similar areas before too, and have smashed them for fours. As I said, I just need to respect this phase.”
I think he is also saying that he is waiting it out. It is at odds with the normal tendencies of getting distracted, or escaping or justifying or wanting to conquer it with; vacations, positive thinking, changing the environment etc. I have found that I can get temporary relief and strength from these techniques; and upon getting the strength, I find myself seeking more persistent understanding and being. I find myself back to the “quiet” of seeing the universal fingerprint in it and not fighting it. Waiting it out – without expectations. An observer happens. Finding the strength to see without “owning” it is difficult; as it goes against every conditioning we have had as humans. But the reality is impersonal – the default assumptions of identity and ownership have to be put under the light of understanding.
Sharing
This is from a friend’s friend (thanks Mohan Pillalamarri) that I enjoyed very much.
THE PARROT AND THE GUAVA TREE
The kitchen had 3 windows facing the garden. In front of the middle window was the guava tree. When mother stood near the kitchen stove, this tree was what she would see.
In the guava season, the tree would unfailingly have a visitor – a parrot. It would bite half of a guava, then move on to the next. Some of the guavas would fall on the ground, half-bitten or pecked. It did not matter, the ground adjoining the tree was the parrot’s territory too.
Then mother worked out an arrangement with the avian visitor – she covered some of the guavas with handkerchieves – the covered guavas were meant for the house, while the uncovered ones were for the parrot.
The happy, squawking sounds of the parrot indicated its acceptance of the agreement – it only ate the uncovered guavas, and left the rest for the house.
And so this peaceful co-existence between human, tree and bird was played out, year after year.
In the last year of mother’s life, her feet did not touch the ground. Diagnosed with brain tumour and paralysed from the waist down, she did not enter the kitchen to gaze at the tree or listen to the parrot. Her only outdoor activities were visits to Tata Memorial in an ambulance, where she was taken in a stretcher from home to hospital and back.
Mother Nature is perceptive. She has feelings too. In the last year of mother’s life, the guava tree started withering away. Two days after mother passed away, the tree died. All that was left was dry bark. No leaves. No branches. And no guavas.
Exactly a year has passed. The tree is still in front of the kitchen window – withered and dead. The parrot has disappeared, gone for ever from the garden.
In my mind’s eye, I see a small patch of green in heaven. Mother is there, and so is the guava tree. Some of the fruits are covered with handkerchieves, and some are left for the birds. Beautiful, colourful, musical birds.
Mother is healthy. Mother is happy. So am I.
Noodles with Naresh 