Recently, a friend and well-wisher of mine left his mortal coil. In age, he was almost my grandfather. But his zest for life was anything but old. He was a leader in his own way. He used to be surrounded by both young and old waiting for him to crack a joke with them or to take some advice. He always kept himself busy. He had been a family friend from my grandfather’s times and so my parents also liked him and adored him.
During my childhood, when we were far away from him, my father missed him. Having tasted his wisdom and affection, this was expected. I, on the other hand did not know much about him. To be honest, I did not care. I was more interested in watching chandrakanta and aladdin on doordarshan than interacting with him. The physical distance only served to add to the convenience.
As time passed by,I visited him, albeit irregularly. I still managed to keep a “safe distance” from him. But fate had other plans.Aided by a quirk of events and my father’s relationship with him, I had to stay with him for 2 years while I did my MBA. And the interactions during that time left me changed.
Initially, I was skeptic of his visitors. Why anyone should be charmed by someone as old and fragile as him was beyond my brain. His unexplained “eccentricities” only served to add to the confusion. As time passed, I found a pattern. He always gave; he always helped…. with a smile. I never saw him spend a second in sorrow or regret. I never saw him take anything for himself. At that time, the instant “comparision” feature in my brain immediately compared both of us. Needless to say, I felt small. Really small. And despite his knowledge and wisdom, his innocence clearly shone in his talk.
Before long, I knew that he was rubbing off on me. My behaviour and attitude changed and I looked forward to interacting with him. He gave me tasks which made me learn and improve myself. Save for a slight nudge here and there, he did most of his help behind my back allowing me to take credit for a lot of things. I, of course realised all this in hindsight. I was busy focusing on my studies and my feigned dislike of him. 2 years passed. I came home, albeit with the intention of going back and spending some “quality time” with him. Unfortunately, fate had other plans.
I was unable to see him alive again. I was able to see only his body. Visitors had come to pay their last respects. Everybody was bemoaning the loss and recollecting how he had helped them overcome some of the worst time of their lives. He had helped them. Every single one of them. I also realised that I was also one of them. He had looked after me with so much affection and care. Maybe, I could have done more. Maybe. Maybe not.
Sometimes, it is very easy to say goodbye.
Sometimes, it is very hard hard.
Sometimes, you do not need to.
