When my mother’s mother died, that was the first time I saw my mother like that. She was there, sitting near the body unable to cope, unable to cry, able to realize but unable to make peace with the fact that her mother was no more in the midst of all the requiem prayers. She was inconsolable. That is when my aunt, my dad’s eldest brother’s wife walked in. She came, sat next to MJ, and held her close, and MJ broke down. All her tears that kept filling within her came out, my aunt, the next person to her mother-in-law, never left her side until the burial was over and we returned home from the service. At times it is just a touch that is required to calm down, and attain that peace. Some people like my aunt I feel are blessed in such touch-psychology. I will always be thankful to her for being there for MJ that day!
As Smruti says, “that compassion matters, honesty matters!”
An event where your can SEE what people ACTUALLY are.
Back to 2005.
My mother died.
People were mourning and my supposedly “best-friend” stood fa…..r from me; outside her house with bunch of other people who were carrying a piteous look in their eyes, every now and then would make this “tsk-tsk” sound and mumble the same shit, rephrasing every time to each other.
After crying for straight 8 hours, which could have been lesser to be honest, but every time I would try to calm down…well, my relatives made sure that I DON’T!
You know, that typical Indian ‘Rudali’ sound, a minute of which is capable to shut down all the laughter clubs in the world, along with nonsense questions to a 11 year old, “Ye kyu hua, ye kyu hua” (Why did it happen? (as if I knew)) was something they kept doing. I was miserably…
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