|Me and Nonu|
The weather in Delhi is changing. The beautiful winters is fading away and summer is spreading its furious fangs over unsuspecting Earth, blooming with colorful flora, creating a magical beauty.
Nonu- my about-to-be-six year old is the first to bear the brunt of this indecisive change of weather. Last Thursday, she broke into tears on account of headache and unbeknownst to her- fever. I spoke to her. She broke down and I helplessly rushed back home to be with her.
She has immense capacity of bearing such ill-health. I do not know if that is due to some great patience or innocent inability to understand her own discomfort and pain. I guess, this she got from me. I can still vividly remember bearing in silence the crushing pain in my chest twelve years back which had all the potential of leaving me dead. I can also remember that I could still walk straight into the hospital and get myself admitted, in the throes of severe pain before slipping into an undecided unconsciousness.
It is not to boast about that. It has its own demerits- bearing pain, that is. After initial admiration fades away, the fascination of Spartan reserve takes flight, one is left alone, finding oneself in harm's way. I was thinking about it, while I look at my daughter now happy, and playful, out of the bout of sickness. I know, the perils of parenthood in absentia. I find all those argument of making money for the family, man - the bread earner a drag. But then, I wish, I had a way out of it and I could help her learn out of my mistakes. As they say, experience is the comb life hands you when you have lost all your hairs. I would like to hand over that comb to you, my dear. I would like to sit across the whole day and tell you these things which no one else will. For instance, while have the grit to bear the pain, but then be open about incurring that responsibility of taking care of your own self, on that account. I did bear the pain in silence for long and messed my own life, wanting people around to come on their own and help me. It was only later did I understand that the strength to bear the pain brings with it responsibility, the responsibility to resolve it. I will not want you to tell me about the pains you go through, but still I want you to be able to resolve that pain. Some day, when I am not there, I want you to be ready for that day. I also want you to know that I so very regret my inability to get out of this money-making rut and spend time with you. It has nothing to do with my pride as a man as bread-earner; It has everything to do with my pride as a human being. I hope someday you will be able to understand this when you grown up.
I want to write some notes to my child. The on-going, unfinished novel makes it difficult. I need to get on to it, lest I may forget. I have to get the Comb ready for Nonu. While I will make those notes for you, in the mean time, I am leaving some of those things in these blog posts.