When you're faced with a tragedy, a loss so huge that you have no idea how you can live through it, somehow, the world keeps turning, the seconds keep ticking and life goes on.
In his astounding book 'Kafka On The Shore', Haruki Murakami says "lost opportunities, lost possibilities, feelings we can never get back. That's part of what it means to be alive. But inside our heads - at least that's where I imagine it - there's a little room where we store those memories. A room like the stacks in this library. And to understand the workings of our own heart we have to keep on making new reference cards. We have to dust things off every once in a while, let in fresh air, and change the water in the flower vases. In other words, you'll live forever in your own private library"
Seven years ago, my father and I went to the bank to draw some money. The bank manager offered us tea and in the midst of the small talk, Daddy suddenly collapsed. As I held him in my arms for what seemed like an eternity, he closed his eyes and I lost him forever.
The initial reference card of deep trauma at the suddenness of his going and the grief of never seeing him again has remained with me all through.
How deeply you grieve depends on a lot of factors, including your relationship with the person who’s passed, and the circumstances around their passing.
There’s no ‘normal’ amount of time it takes for grief to pass and only time and tears mute the grief.
Today is Govinda Dwadasi, the seventh death anniversary of my father. Also known as 'Narasimha Dwadasi", it falls in the month of Phalguna, celebrating the Narasimha Avatar of Vishnu. Many Hindu holy texts, like the "Agni Purana", specify the sacred importance of this day. In the Jagannath temple in Puri, huge festivities are held. Devotees believe that by worshipping Lord Vishnu, they will find bliss and redemption and ultimately reach " Vaikuntha" which is the Lord's celestial dwelling.
My father shared the same astrological birth details with the Lord Shri Krishna and would proudly refer to the Lord as his friend philosopher and guide.
Lord Krishna’s zodiac sign is Taurus (Vrishabh) and star/ Nakshatra is Rohini.
My grandfather, an erudite Sanskrit scholar with a rare astrological insight, would say that people born under "Rohini Brusha Rashi" are rare and when their work on earth is over just like Sri Krishna they go away suddenly without any warning.
According to the Mahabharata, a fight breaks out at a festival among the Yadavas, who end up killing each other. Mistaking the sleeping Krishna for a deer, a hunter named Jara shoots a fatal arrow towards him. The ninth avatar of Vishnu completed his work on earth and went back to his celestial abode.
Thus, the significance of Daddy's passing away on Narasimha Dwadashi is not lost on me in my search for solace.
When someone you love becomes a memory, that memory becomes a treasure.
As I stand before his portrait today my eyes fell upon a memento.
These are what his colleagues in/of the IPS fraternity write:
"An outstanding officer, Shri Mohapatra will be remembered for his vast knowledge and interest in subjects beyond police. He had a keen interest in fine arts and classical music. He was himself an accomplished "Sitar" player.
Shri Mohapatra was highly regarded amongst his peers and colleagues for his professionalism, pleasing disposition and magnanimity.
A man without malice, his warm and friendly smile endeared him to one and all ".
That initial reference card of deep trauma got lighted up brilliantly with a newer reference card that makes me smile proudly today.
Grief is like a moving river, changing shape over time.
Memories warm me up. They tear me apart too.
But, my private library of my father, keeps getting enriched each day...he lives on forever.
I softly whisper "Daddy you have made it to "Vaikuntha ".
In the immortal words of Kahlil Gibran:
"When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight."
#grief #loss #govindadwadashi #Narasimha #srikrishna