To My Dear Thakurma....Farewell, audieu...till we meet again!

This blog has been one of the hardest to write. In the past month and half, I had tried multiple times to write and each time I set it aside halfway. Tears would well up whenever I sat down to compose my sentiments and after a number of futile attempts, I gave up. My mind was a convoluted mess of jumbled and confused thoughts and I found myself struggling to draw a semblance of coherence from it all.

Truth be told, I don't think I really wanted to - that is, to look deep within and express in words what my soul was feeling. I think it was perhaps a weak and subconscious attempt to not accept the reality of life. Written words always seem to carry an air of finality around them that sometimes they are better not penned. Does that make sense?

My 'thakurma' (grandmother - father's mother) passed away on August 22, 2007. She was 86 years and in the last days of her life had become extremely weak and frail. Her last days were spent in Kolkata with my uncle (kaku), Aunt (kakima) and my cousin. My kaku called from Kolkata and gave my dad the news. My parents then informed me. I was at work that day when they called in the afternoon. The rest of the day went by in a blur...I felt so pained and restless inside. I dediced i need to go to India. I rushed to Calcutta soon thereafter as did the rest of my family. Alas! I was too late to see her one last time, to pay my respects and to say goodbye. But I was in time to attend her last rites and funeral prayers.

They say time and tide hath wait for no man; who can attest to that better than the surving family, relatives and friends of the departed. Life happens, and in its wake takes along our near and dear ones. And so the 'circle of creation' goes on....birth and death, construction and destruction!! However, to comprehend a life going forward devoid of a person's presence in it, is still very difficult and unimaginable.

I for one am still grappling to understand the concept of death. It leaves me feeling humbled, helpless, and yes...scared! Scared - not because I fear death in itself. But the feeling of emptyness and void left behind by a person's passing away, the thought of never seeing them again in the flesh - but merely a framed picture on the wall - leaves me troubled and anguished.

So many things left unsaid, so many moments never to be shared again. Perhaps I'm naive and impractical but how can someone just go away....and where do they go? Are they watching and observing from wherever they are? Are they too longing to be with us - their family - as we on our part pine for them?
I want to scream out into the cosmic void demanding that I want answers....but there is no one to hear me and there are no answers to soothe my soul.....only endless silence.

When a loved one passes away - a lot of emotions are entertwined. And to lose the oldest and last remaining 'matriarch' in the family is specially painful. But I cannot imagine what my Dad and Kaku must be going through or rather have gone through when each of them heard the news/ saw for themselves respectively.
Even though Baba must have mentally been preparing for it and probably knew it was inevitable, I am sure no one including him, ever wants to receive that fated phone call.

It will take a lot of time to come to terms with the fact that the kind, gentle, caring and always giving "thakurma" is not around anymore for me to hug, listen to stories and fun tid-bits about the family, share jokes with; or simply put my head on her lap. It is even more difficult to imagine that when I go to India the next time and walk into her room - she will not be there to welcome me.

There are many memories attached to every entity we meet in our life span - the most wonderful ones are with parents, and grandparents with their immense affection for their grandchildren.

As I write this today, on a lazy and chilly Sunday afternoon, the rays of the setting sun lilting gently over the Hudson.....I have made my peace.

I stare out of my window onto the horizon, I watch the skyline and I think of what my sister said to me recently. She said: "Didi, rather than grieving and feeling sad, let us cherish good, positive and warm memories of Thakurma, so we can always remember her life and feel comforted and happy".

I recollect my childhood and how her presence in my family was always an important factor. I remember how (when my mother would be angry at me) running to take refuge in thakurma's room always felt great. It was a sanctuary away from 'parental dictatorship' as I used to call it. It used to delight me immensely to see that there was someone who could actually stand up for us kids and tell my parents to back off.

As I grew up, I remember the visits to Calcutta, the stories, gossip and laughter that we would all share in the family and how thakurma was always overjoyed to see us. There was always good food and sweets around, she would share amusing tidbits and juicy secrets about my father (when he was a little boy) and other members of the extended family.

Inevitably, when the day of departure came near and we would have to leave India with heavy hearts, she would have tears in her eyes but yet she would see us all off with 'thakur er ashirbad' and 'durba' from her pujo ghar.

I have known my grandparents for as long as I can remember - from the time I came into being. Others may well have more altruistic reasons but a grandparent's love (like one's parents) is selfless and whole. To her, I would always be a little child - her dear 'natni' Minki (grand daughter). So, to my dear thakurma till we meet again........here is audieu, rest in peace and lots of love.