Chapter 1
Lebensmude – feeling tired/weary of life
Dear Papa,
Today while rearranging your bookshelf, I came across your book of words. I remember how excited you would get whenever you came across a new word. That word would promptly find an entry in the Notes app in your mobile. At the end of the day, you would write down the word with its meaning in neat calligraphic writing in your book. Just seeing your handwriting makes me long even more for you.
Lebensmude - that's exactly what I feel today.
It has been only two months since that heart-attack claimed you. I do not know how I made it so far. To be honest, I would not have made it without the moral support of Rishi and Advika. These two childhood besties of mine have stood beside me since the day you left the mortal world and haven't held back on their support.
But sometimes, the very people who have always been with you end up making you feel alone. Today, Rishi and Advika disclosed to me that they have been in a relationship since a year. They are planning to get engaged in two months and their marriage is scheduled for this year-end.
Frankly, I am a bit hurt. Neither of the two confided in me about their affair. I feel like the proverbial third wheel now. I am grateful for all the support they lent to me after your death, but I am unable to overlook the fact that they kept their relationship a secret from me. I imagine them exchanging secret glances and knowing smiles while I was seated amidst them, blissfully unaware. I imagine the number of secret meetings they must have had about which I had no idea.
I can imagine you saying in your deep voice, “Shivani, that is incredibly selfish of you. Instead of being happy for your friends, you are making this all about yourself.” I do not care, Papa. When mom died, I had you. You made me your whole world. You are gone, my friends suddenly feel like strangers and I no longer feel welcome amidst them. I am allowed to feel whatever I want to.
My whole world has come crumbling down. I feel alone. So alone. Allow me to be incredibly selfish for a while.
I received a message from the Railways about the PNR status of the tickets we had booked for Karnataka’s tour. How excited we both were about it! For your sake, I am planning to go, Papa. I will share my experiences with you. It would not be the same, but I will do it for you.
Perpetual Lebensmude reigns in my heart, Papa. It feels like nothing will be right in life from now on. All my happiness went away with you.
Damn, I need to stop lest the tears spoil my diary’s page.
Chapter 2
Chardi Kala – maintaining a positive attitude and outlook in life
Dear Papa,
Today I learnt a new word which you would have loved. There's lot to share with you!
As planned, I am out on the Karnataka tour without you. I do not know what I packed. I do not know what I am going to do. All I know is that this is not fun at all without you.
I boarded the train, hoping for some much needed solitude and calm. Both went for a royal toss the moment Mr.Singh and his family claimed the seats next to mine.
Mr.Singh - what can I say about him? He reminds me so much about you, my heart just aches with longing! He is big and broad, just like you. Has a booming voice like you. He is accompanied by his wife and his mother who looks quite stern.
They all left me on my own until it was time for dinner. Mr. Singh opened a large bag and took out several boxes. He had just started serving his mother when his gaze fell on me.
"You didn't bring dinner?" He asked in pristine Hindi. Papa, you would have been fascinated by his accent! Anyways, I shook my head. He immediately thrust a plate towards me. All my polite refusals went unheard as his mother held my plate and he put some Rotis and sabzi in it. His mother sternly gestured me to eat. I had no option.
"You are on your own?" Mr. Singh asked. I nodded.
"Your parents? Husband?" He asked good-naturedly.
I told him I am not married. I also had to inform about losing mom first and then you. Papa, I am kinda ashamed that my eyes filled up while talking about you. The entire family fell silent for a while and then Mr. Singh eagerly put another Roti on my plate. I was too overwhelmed to refuse and ate it in silence.
As I was typing this in my laptop, Mr. Singh gestured me to shut it down and sleep. He must have seen some reluctance in my face.
“We believe in Chardi Kala." He said as I paused typing. "It means to maintain a positive attitude in your mind despite the difficulties that life brings. You are never alone, child." He said, softening slightly as my eyes filled up again. "God will always watch over you."
Papa, remember how I used to get scared when the lights of the compartment would be shut off during our travels in the train? You were always there to soothe my fears. I was dreading the night in the train without you. But the comforting and large presence of Mr.Singh in the berth below mine makes me feel safe.
It's as if you are with me, Papa. Although you aren't. You never will be.
Chardi Kala - It sounds good but at this point of time, it is a difficult concept for me. There's nothing positive in my life at the moment.
Chapter 3
Anhedonia – the loss of interest in activities that you once liked.
Dear Papa,
I am writing from the room of a hotel in Mysuru. I can’t help thinking that somewhere in the floor, there is a room which had your name in it.
I do not know how the hours of the train journey went by. Papa, I remember the times we travelled, how I would snuggle beside you, seated beside the window and how you would tell me to form stories of the various scenes that we both would see from the window. Most of my stories were absolutely ridiculous. How you laughed, and how I laughed with you!
When I alighted at Mysore junction, the driver had arrived with the car. If he was surprised to see me on my own, he didn’t show it.
I think you would have loved Mysuru. It has a certain vintage charm. I am sure you would have done a better job of describing the city. I didn’t notice much, except for a few details that I thought you would not miss.
Why do I break down so easily now-a-days, Papa? The driver only asked me where I wanted to go in the evening, and I, replying, ‘I don’t know’ started sobbing. The question felt metaphorical. Where do I go now? Who is there with me???
The driver whose name is Ajit suggested that he would pick me up by 4 in the evening and drive around Mysuru Palace and then to a famous market of Mysuru named Devaraja Market. I could only nod mutely. It doesn’t matter where I go now. You are not there with me.
True to his word, Ajit came sharp at 4 to the hotel to pick me up. That he made no reference to my break-down earned him a plus point from me. He took me to Mysuru Palace which is, every regal inch, a palace indeed. I think you would have loved it. I am sorry that I did not go inside the palace, Papa. If you were there, we would have definitely explored it. Ajit did ask me whether I wanted to spend some time inside the palace. I declined. What is the point of exploring the palace on my own?
I feel like the whole trip would be a waste without you. Only the prospect of writing to you every day keeps me going, Papa.
Chapter 4
Hyompora – experiencing serenity while listening to the flow of water.
Dear Papa,
Today I spent some time at Karanji lake, apparently a 100-year old lake amidst a trail of woods. This is the only place I visited today, although Ajit was suggesting that there is the zoo. The prospect of going to the zoo without you, especially knowing that you have always been fascinated by animals, didn’t appeal to me, Papa. I am sorry I did not go there. I would not have enjoyed without you.
The lake was really a serene point. I sat on a bench overlooking the lake and watched the proceedings around me. Being summer, many tourists have come to Mysuru and the trail was full of entire families having fun.
Papa, I saw some moms accompanying their daughters to the loo in the park and it reminded me of the number of times you lingered anxiously outside the loo whenever I needed to use one. Sometimes you would request some lady to watch over me. It was embarrassing for me then. Now I realize that it was so kind and caring of you.
It also reminded me of the time when I got my first period. Driven by the sudden change in the body and my teenage hormones wreaking havoc in my mind, I cried a lot that day. You were so understanding, Papa. I do not even remember for how long you kept buying my sanitary napkins until I grew up emotionally to start buying them on my own.
I never realized how blessed I was until I heard my friends exclaim in wonder and amazement when I told them that you bought me my sanitary napkins and that I could freely talk to you about everything. I also remember the first time I brought a bra for me. You, me and Advika’s mother had gone for the embarrassing shopping event. I remember you standing awkwardly at the entrance of the shop while the rest of us brought lingerie. When we finally came out of the shop, you gently asked me whether I got what I needed. It was the only time that I saw you looking helpless and defeated, as if you realized that at some point of life, you will have to leave me on my own and would not be of any help. I cannot tell you how loved I felt at that point of time.
Did I ever thank you for everything that you did, Papa? Perhaps not so much in words but through my actions, I hope. I tried to live in a way that would make you proud of me, and I know that you were. You never hesitated to tell me at every available chance about how proud you were of me.
Tomorrow I will be leaving for Coorg which is a drive of around 5 hours. At one point of time this would have excited me. Now I only feel your absence even more, knowing that long drives were really your thing.
Chapter 5
Mushin – A state of mind that is free from attachment and has clarity
Dear Papa,
Today can be called as a day of reckoning.
As I left Mysuru and proceeded towards Coorg, I felt a subtle shift in the air. There was a slight chill to it. I also felt a shift in my mind, that perhaps something was about to change.
It reminded me of the way you would always describe travel. You would say that once we go to a new place, we are never the same when we leave it. A part of us stays back, you would say, and we are never the same.
I did not experience this in Mysuru, but I did feel this in a strange yet beautiful place that I visited today. A Tibetan settlement in Bylakuppe and a monastery.
Papa, you would often talk about falling in love with a place but I never really believed it until today. The Tibetan settlement is a cozy little town with beautiful cottages, shops, narrow lanes and lovely gardens. I fell in love with this place at first sight. It is so serene and peaceful. The people have such a profound look of calmness that I felt my eyes well up just seeing them, longing for such a state of mind for myself too.
And the monastery! What can I say about that? I dropped to my knees when I saw those majestic Boddhisatvas looking down on me serenely with a smile. The statue of Lord Buddha reduced me to tears with the pure look of compassion etched on his beautiful face. It was as if he was saying, ‘I know, but you will get through this. We all do ultimately. There is pain, but there is also the hope of overcoming it and living in a way that makes our life worthwhile.’ I do not remember for how long I sat on my knees and soaked in the compassion overflowing from Buddha’s countenance. The tears that I shed cleansed my heart, Papa. I felt alive for the first time since the day you died. It was as if the mist that had obscured my mind had finally made way for clarity of thought and vision.
On the way to the hotel, as the car stood beside the school, stuck in a traffic jam, I saw a notice requesting for teachers for Computer science for primary students. Papa, I will attribute this to the day that I had, or the spiritual experience that I underwent at the monastery, but it felt like that notice was for me. That, and a sign that I saw on one of the cottages – ‘Available for rent’ – it felt like it was a suggestion from the universe.
I am scared that I am going to do something life-altering, Papa.
Chapter 6
Anemoia – feeling nostalgic for a time or place that one has never known
Dear Papa,
Guess where I am writing from!
Usually I write at the end of the day. But today I could not resist and I am typing this from Raja’s Seat, a park overlooking a valley beyond which there lie majestic mountains. Ajit said that this is a good place to catch a sunset.
So I am sitting on a bench that overlooks the valley and as I wait for the sun to set, I am writing this, wanting to share this moment with you.
Papa, I see worried parents rushing after their kids and ensuring that the children stay within the borders. I see moms anxiously holding on to their children while taking photos. For some reason, today I am thinking about mom too.
I was about eight when we lost mother. But I do not remember anything about the grieving period. Does that make me a bad daughter? I know you would disagree with me. I just do not have that many memories of mom, as much as I have of you. Looking at the anxiety on the faces of the parents, I cannot help thinking that I never got to ask you something.
Papa, it has always been you and me. Did you ever worry about what would become of me if you weren’t around? Did you experience the normal fears and anxieties that every parent faces? You always allowed me to be on my own and live life as per my terms. Surely you must have spent some restless moments worrying about me. You never showed that side of yours to me. You were always calm and collected. I do not remember ever seeing you worried or frustrated. How did you have it all together, Papa? It must have been hard to be a single parent.
I have often wondered but never asked you – why did you never marry again? Did you ever find love after mom? Did you feel lonely? Was it overwhelming to raise a kid all on your own?
Seeing people take family pictures drives the fact harder that I have no family. I sometimes feel scared, Papa. I am 24, and all on my own. I have lived under your protection all these years. You taught me to be independent but you did not teach me how to live without you.
I never realized when the sky changed colors. Papa, I wish you were there with me to watch one of the most majestic sunsets that we have ever seen. So many hues in the sky!
At a park overlooking a valley, a brilliant sunset painting the sky in hues of reds and oranges, I miss you all the more, Papa.
Chapter 7
Shikata-ga-nai – Letting go of what cannot be changed with calm acceptance.
Dear Papa,
I returned to the monastery today, although I was supposed to go to another location for sightseeing. I again kneeled before the Boddhisatvas and felt the same sense of cleansing and renewal that I had felt the first time. I think I spent over an hour at the monastery.
I asked Ajit to drive me around the Tibetan settlement. He parked at the market at my insistence and I took a walk around. I sat in a café, sipping on coffee.
Papa, I met a guy there. Before you jump into conclusions, I would like to clarify that he ultimately turned into my mentor. He is your age, to start with. He mentioned that he had seen me crying in the monastery. He gave such kind vibes that I blurted out everything to him. Before you scold me for trusting a stranger, I would like to inform that his wife joined him too shortly.
‘Shikata ga nai’ – she said with a smile. She is of Japanese origin. Her husband translated it. It’s a phrase used by the Japanese to mean letting go of what cannot be changed and to focus on what can be changed. ‘When things are out of your control, what else can you do but to accept it calmly? What is the use of needlessly fretting over it?’ The guy said in halting English.
Very simple sentences, but they brought instant clarity, Papa. For months, I have been holding on to your death and grieving over it. But the truth is that no amount of grieving is going to bring you back. You are gone. I am alone, and I need to find a way through life.
For the first time, I felt like giving a direction to my life, Papa. I profusely thanked the couple and resumed my walk around the market. When I reached the school, I knew what I had to do.
I contacted the principal and requested for an interview for the post of teacher. He smiled and said that not many had applied, and that I could get the job, provided I showed him my credentials. I only had soft copies of all my certificates. He was impressed enough and just like that, I had got the job! He did tell me to think over it and reply by tomorrow.
I took the next step. I visited the cottage that is for hire and contacted the concerned people. I made the down-payment for the same. Since I do not have anything to transport, I can move in anytime I want to.
I have returned to the hotel and would be checking-out tomorrow. Ajit’s face was a sight to behold when I told him about renting the cottage. He kept shaking his head in disbelief. It was almost comical. Perhaps someone else in my place would have laughed. But not me.
It is not yet time for laughter to catch up with me.
Chapter 8
Vertrautheit – a sense of comfort that comes from being with someone or something familiar
Dear Papa,
I accepted the offer to teach at the school. There is no panic or doubt in my mind. In fact, it feels that this was destined.
There are many factors in my favor. I only need to work half a day every day. The other half, I can utilize to keep up with my web-designing. The job is least-stressful. In fact, I think I would like teaching the kids who look and behave like little Buddhas. The principal introduced me to the class and I spent only a few minutes with the children. I am amazed at the level of maturity and responsibility that these little beings exhibit. I have a feeling that although I will be their teacher, I am the one who will be learning from them.
Papa, is it wrong that I do not feel anything for our home? It was ‘home’ when you were there with me. I have been dreading returning to the emptiness of the house on completion of this trip. Seems like I still have some more time to deal with your absence. I have taken the job on a temporary basis till the first term. I will think whether to continue or not, although I feel that I will be here for a long, long time.
This place feels familiar, Papa. The cottage is lovely. It is small, with just a room, a kitchen and a porch that overlooks the narrow lane through which vehicles keep passing by. I love this place. It gives me all the solitude I need, at the same time I am not in isolation either. There is a row of cottages beside me. The people look quite friendly and my immediate neighbor, a lady probably in her early sixties, gave me some fresh fruits as a welcome. You would have loved this place, Papa. I know I do.
I told Rishi and Advika about my decision to work and live here. To say that they were shocked would be an understatement. Rishi’s pragmatic self directly asked me whether I was taking this decision under the influence of my grief. Advika asked me tearfully whether I was angry with both of them for keeping their relationship a secret and was that the reason I was doing this. It took me a long time to convince them. I know they are shaken up. But this feels right to me, Papa. I was destined to be here.
It is strange how I do not miss my past life. It was as if it went away with you, and I am someone new, trying to make my way through unfamiliar paths. There is the fear of being on my own, but there is also the comfort of solitude.
Ha! Papa, your extroverted child has finally become an introvert, I guess!
Chapter 9
Enoument – a bittersweet feeling of realization that a certain period of life is coming to an end.
Dear Papa,
Today I am both at peace as well as immensely sad.
When I woke up today, I woke with the excitement of getting another day to spend with the kids. They own my heart, Papa. They are sweet, innocent and so filled with hope and positivity that I can’t help pray that nothing ruins the beauty of life for these pure beings. At the same time, I realized that today, upon waking up, I didn’t think first about your absence, something that I have been doing since the past four months.
I can’t believe that I have spent a month here in the settlement. When I came here, I was grieving. Now I feel like I have healed. If you ask me whether I am happy, I will say that I am not. But I am not sad either. I am just at peace, going with the flow of the day with no thought for the future.
What saddens me is that I do not spare as much thought for the past as well.
Although I got to spend 24 brief years with you, I feel that the past few months of grieving for you brought me much closer to you. I spoke to you through the notes that I kept writing every night. This was my way of talking to you. Whenever I wrote down something, I got a feeling that you read it.
Papa, perhaps my grieving period is drawing to a close. Is it ridiculous of me to lament about this? Why do I feel sad that I am done with grieving? Why do I feel disconnected from you? Why do I feel guilty for not thinking about you first thing in the morning today?
Why do I fear that probably I might learn to live without you?
The memories that I have of times spent with you have been my constant companion in the past months. How I prayed that those memories shouldn’t bring more grief and should bring comfort! But now that I no longer grieve about the memories, I feel like a part of my life with you is fading away.
At one point of time, I wanted the grief to go away. Now that it is finally receding, why do I feel the need to cling on to it? Why does it feel like I am betraying you by not grieving over you anymore?
There are so many unanswered questions in my mind, Papa. I have longed to get answers for them from you. But now I am at peace with the questions. I have accepted that some questions will never have one right answer.
I do not ever want to forget this grief, Papa. I hated it when people told me after your death that time will heal me. I did not want to be healed. But you know what, they were right. Time does heal, whether we want it or not.
I feel like something has changed between us today. I feel that the peace that has graced my mind will dim the importance of all the times we spent together, Papa. I am also angry that usually by this time, I would be crying while writing but today, there aren’t any tears. Just calm acceptance of the fact that you are gone, and I am here, trying to find my way through life on my own.
For some more time, I want to linger with the grief of losing you. Because I know that tomorrow another ounce of the grief will fade away, and that this will keep happening every day, until this grieving period will only be a faint memory in the deep recess of my mind.
For one more time, with all my heart and soul, I wish to say that I love you, Papa and that I miss you, and that my life has never been the same since the day you died.
Finally, the tears come.
Chapter 10
Metanoia – a life-changing journey
Dear Papa,
I thought long about what I should call this journey. I found the appropriate word in your book. Metanoia, a journey that changes your mind, heart and in fact, your very life.
It has been two months since I came to this place. Looking back, it feels amazing that I feel at home in a place about which I had no idea few months ago. The people here are kind, Papa. They practice a peaceful approach to life, which is exactly what I want now.
Although I accepted the offer of teaching on a temporary basis, the principal of the school is gently insisting me to continue for long term. Frankly, the prospect of spending more time here is immensely appealing. I may decide to accept the offer.
Next month, I am returning to our home just for two days to attend the engagement of Rishi and Advika. I no longer hold any grudges against them and wish only the best for them. I have realized that I became a stranger to the whole world the moment you left me. Their relationship was in no way a betrayal to me. My emotions were very vulnerable at that time and I guess I needed to vent them out on someone. Quite narrow-minded of me, I think.
I find the prospect of returning home slightly terrifying. It will magnify your absence thousand-fold. Yet, I must return. I owe it to my childhood friends.
Sometimes the feeling of utter loneliness overwhelms me. From someone who was always protected by you, to someone on her own, I have come a long way.
One of your favorite phrases used to be ‘as right as rain’. Oh, the number of times, I heard this from you! Whenever I was sick, or disappointed, or when things did not work in my favor, you would tell me to take my own time to recuperate and that very soon, I would be ‘as right as rain’.
I am sorry but I never really understood this phrase, Papa. It didn’t make much sense to me then. But now I understand. Because today I can tell you that I will never again be ‘as right as rain’. It feels that everything ‘right’ and ‘happy’ was in my life as long as you were with me. That part of me, the one which used to be carefree and recklessly happy, no longer exists. When I had you, I had the whole world.
But don’t worry any more about me, for I have learnt to live in solitude. I am not happy, for who wants happiness when it is clear that it is only one side of the coin? The other side is grief.
For now, I am at peace, Papa, and I am contented with life. But someday I will catch up with you again and that day, I will be ‘as right as rain’. So long!
*****