an interpretation of love..

When Papa died, everyone tried to show me the good in it. It is a common tactic to sympathize with the bereaved. They said he died a good death. There was no pain and no suffering. But you know how untrue all of that is. What’s good about dying? You can argue, what is the alternative? But that’s besides the point.

After losing my father I was hell bent on really finding something good in it. And the reason was him. He always found the good in every bad. And I wanted to challenge his philosophy. In a way I was asking him: “now you tell me what’s good about you not being here with us today?” And once again, he was proved right. It took me a little while, but I did find something good in his death. It was the new bonding that I discovered with my Mom.

Suddenly, she became the centre of my universe. I shamefully admit that she was not that until he died. I really worshipped my Dad as my hero. Every child does. My mom was always there for us. But she was never my go-to person. Of course I regret that now. But if an analogy helps, while my Dad was my Batman, my Mom was his Lucius Fox.

After his death I started connecting more with her. Perhaps I was selfish and I needed a parent I could share my insecurities with and she was all I had. I started speaking to her almost every day. We chat about what’s on top of our minds. Be it about Lychees that are  Rs.100 a kg or about corruption in India or the new MCD siren-blaring truck that causes more noise crap than the crap it picks up on its way. She tells me the latest news in India as she understands it. Her’s is the more gossipy version. I have a point of comparison because my FIL also loves to share the news with us and his is the more factual and sarcastic version. I love how I can sit here in the US and get a kaleidoscopic view of news stories developing in India.

So.. when the news of Rajesh Khanna’s death reached my ears, I could not help but think about how they are all going together. I don’t know why our mind thinks like that, but it just does. My dad, Dev Anand, Dara Singh, Gandhi Uncle, Jagjit Singh, Anand Uncle, Pataudi and now Rajesh Khanna. And then slowly I started thinking about what an impact this is going to have on my Mom. These people were her contemporaries. Such a thought could have never even occurred to me, if Papa was still with us. She is a die-hard Rajesh Khanna fan. I wondered if she was feeling nostalgic about all her memories of watching RK movies with my father. They used to watch three movies a week, all in theaters. And in the era that she got married, Rajesh Khanna was at his peak.

When I called Mom that morning she sounded her cheerful self. She asked me how my day went and how Agam was doing. And then I brought out the elephant in the room. I asked her about RK’s death and if she had been following the news. She said yes, it was all over the news channels. She talked about all the lovely songs from his movies. And then she talked about his stardom and how crazy people were about him back then. I was still waiting. And I felt like she knew what I was waiting for, and then she said “Your father was also a very charismatic man.” I knew what she meant. He really was a very charismatic individual.

She then tried to change the topic and started reading the news headlines to me as they flashed on the TV channels. She gave me a detailed commentary of the proceedings at the funeral ceremony in Mumbai that was being aired live. Every word that she said was full of reflection. I wondered if in her mind she was reliving the proceedings from my father’s funeral ceremony. She tried to induce some humor amidst all of this, but it was all a cover. The topic went back to my Dad. and she mentioned how much my Dad enjoyed movies of RK, especially Anand, Aradhana and above all Amar Prem. I agreed.

After a long pause, and with a heavy voice, she shared with me how my father would repeat the lines of Amar Prem to her sometimes: “Pushpa, mujhse ye aansu nahi dekhe jaate, I hate tears .” And with that, we both wiped our tears that had been rolling all this while, we sighed at our fate, and then started talking about all the other things under the sky, like the neighbour’s son who is visiting Delhi these days and works for Cisco.

After that phone call, a thought struck me. Bear with me, as I am still resolving it in my mind. But here is my first take at putting it down on paper. Each of us is married to someone who is our interpretation of Rajesh Khanna. RK defined romance and expression of love like no one else had ever done in Indian Cinema. Raj Kapoor and Dev Anand were close contenders, but their movies mostly represented the pain and suffering that came with love. Rajesh Khanna’s movies represented the celebration and excitement and most importantly, the melody associated with being in love. He defined romance in Indian cinema, at least for me and perhaps more so for my Mom.

My mom remembered her RK as she grieved the loss of a superstar we all loved. And I understood my mother’s love a little bit better.

Empathy Craze

On our way to Tahoe, we took a little detour to pick up some friends from San Francisco. We were pretty delayed already and a really bad traffic jam made things worse for us. The reason for traffic was the 2011 San Francisco Walk to End Alzheimer’s that was going on at Embarcadero.

I understand and believe in charity and donations, but I don’t understand the purpose or rather the objective of these walks. When I blurted out my ignorance, I was told that these walks create awareness about the cause. The media captures these events and then people donate. Ok I will buy the part about causing awareness – but there are other ways of doing it, social media being one of them. Moreover, a peace walk that results traffic jams does not sound like a peace walk to me. I’m not sure what purpose is solved by walking a few miles wearing banners and t-shirts advertising the cause.  I can see that there is intent, but to organize events that are not action oriented is channeling the intent in the wrong direction. It is like taking a short cut.

To add to the fire, David Brooks in his weekly article wrote about “Empathy Craze”. And I was sitting here nodding and affirming every line he wrote. Don’t get me wrong, I am not against charity. I am against hollow demonstrations. I am a proud daughter of a man who gave blood umpteen times in his life. He organized more health camps for the needy than I will even hear of in my life time. He cared for the cause and he supported it with action. And that’s what I was raised to believe in.

You want to support Alzheimer’s. Bravo!! Reach out to the families of the patients and tell them, that you will take care of the patient once a week, or twice a month, while they can go have a life. Now that’s action. Raise this awareness in the medical community so that someone decides to invest in research for a cure for this disease. Walking on a street in San Francisco, on a glorious day with banners and slogans, while the traffic stops to watch you and media gives you all their attention – that’s not action. All you did was GET UP that morning.  And may be for this generation that is enough, in which case I am a part of this generation and I am ashamed.

I am complaining not because they caused that traffic jam. I am complaining because they were  all talk and no action. I cannot describe it as well as David does – These days empathy has become a shortcut. It has become a way to experience delicious moral emotions without confronting the weaknesses in our nature that prevent us from actually acting upon them”.

…..About this month — it used to be my favorite. Not anymore. It doesn’t matter that all the festivals I care about happen to fall in this month. It doesn’t matter that my niece and my Mom have their birthdays lined up this month. It also doesn’t matter that I got married (for the second time) this month. This month is when I lost my father. For me he was with us just yesterday, and today he is no more. So whoever said time is the greatest healer, you were wrong — because this wound is as raw as it was a year ago.