Timeless Ties

In an old black and white picture in the family album there was this girl, some years older to us running after my brother as he was seen chasing a flock of hens in the vast courtyard of our ancient family home in my native town. I was told that she
was the daughter of a doctor who was posted on government duty for some years in my native place and had stayed in a residential block in the sprawling campus of my grandfather's kothi.
This was many years ago.

But the memories had remained as happens at times, when in this voyage of life you meet people who instantly seem to be one of your own. Doctor saheb and his family had carved out an irreplaceable place for themselves in the hearts of my family. Those ties remained firm and strong although they never came back to my native place after their transfer.
Initially letters were exchanged with intense enthusiasm. Then the pace slowed and then as life moved from one phase to another, though memories lingered, the keeping-in-touch became more of a ritual on Raksha bandhans, Holi, Diwali and Idd.
That also withered with time, but strangely the bond remained.
I was to realise later that this relation was too deep, too unswerving to just sink in the sand of time.

In a providential coincidence doctor saheb's wife met my mother's cousin, Baaji Aapa on a train journey.
The two women hugged each other affectionately, taking their time to settle down. Then began the exercise of exchanging notes and measuring the water that had flown down the bridge while they had been going about their ways. She informed Baaji Aapa that after doctor saheb's retirement they had settled down in Allahabad. Their daughter happily married and the son now an officer in the Indian Army.

And then by another unbelievable coincidence some years later I went to Allahabad. Unbelievable I say because there had been not even a remote chance of me ever landing up in Allahabad.
But there I was most unexpectedly and very happily married to an Allahabadi ...!!!

My mother and her younger sister  told me to search for doctor saheb's family.
We had an address to go by. I searched in the telephone directory.
Made a few calls to the people who I thought matched the description. But that got me no where.
So once when my mother was visiting, we decided to go and find out who was living at the address given by doctor saheb's wife.

The house looked deserted and even before I opened the iron gate with some hesitation, a voice inside warned me of some misadventure, but I brushed aside the thought. I did not want to spoil mummy's child-like excitement.

The lawn was unkempt, but someone had been watering it because the greenery was
thankfully there; the flower beds were full of weeds, the front door was locked, but in the open space on the left that took you to the backyard, there was a clothesline with some clothes hung out to dry. On an old worn out wooden chair and an ordinary cot woven with rough coir were spread some colourful woollens...shawls, caps, sweaters, socks...
The winter was setting in.


Mummy and I looked at each other. A little unsure we walked towards a door that was ajar. A fair woman of medium height, neatly draped in a cotton sari, a deep red round bindi perched proudly on her forehead , was perhaps about to go into the next phase of her daily routine. Her payals stopped their sweet jingle as she stopped in her steps looking up questioningly at the sound of our tiptoeing.

Oh! Yes she knew doctor bhaiyya and his family. But they did not live in Allahabad any more. Their daughter was doing well, her children had grown up, they were doing very well too.
And their son was a "big officer" in the Indian Army. Happily married, two sons and a lovely wife.
Great! I could see mummy's eyes light up with joy.

The woman went on with her loud and incesssant chatter for some more time, smiling and laughing, which apparently seemed unnecessary. I was watching my mother closely as she was taking in each word that the woman uttered. Very attentive not to miss anything at all in the details that the woman was giving about doctor saheb and his family. But I could also sense mummy's impatience at the time this talkative woman was taking to give out details  about  Doctor Bhaiyya and Bhabi's present location and address.

My mother could have burst out and perhaps admonished the woman in an unusual bout of anxiety, but something kept her patience going and she listened quietly as the details about doctor saheb's family and his stay in Allahabad poured out.

And then the woman paused, as if exhausted from her own chatter.
After what seemed eternity she, almost inaudibly said something. Most certaily  she did had not wanted to utter those words. Now we knew why she was talking of everything else.

But had we heard her right ???
Mummy's eyes suddenly widened with disbelief before numbness took over.
And what should I have done? I should in all probablity have been indifferent. It hardly should have been of any concern to me. After all how much did I know or associate with a doctor and his family who at some point in time, had been close to my mother's family. And who I do not remember as having seen, leave alone met in my life...

But how do you really remain indifferent when you hear of death?!!!
We were informed that both Doctor Saheb and his wife were no more.

The search for them was complete. It was sadly a "dead end".
When Mummy spoke despair and helplessness was evident as she remarked with a sigh, "We should not have insisted on looking for them. At least there was this hope of running into each other sometime... at some turn in life... out of the blue..."
Her voice trailed off as tears filled her eyes and emotions choked her throat yet again.

I wonder why do people not allow their past to rest in peace? You meet so many people in various phases of life. Some stay with you longer than the others, some just fade away while some others stay forever. So let that beauty be. Let us stop chasing the past. I would like to believe that if one has to meet someone it will just happen.

But no. Even if one wants very earnestly to let the past be, it keeps coming back. Our past is already a part of us. We know everything about it. And the best part is it has gone, never to return. Therefore we love it so much.

I could not help smiling cynically when in an intersting coincidence I am entrusted once again with a similar task. This time the search is for a Parsi lady in Mumbai. My first effort to locate her has drawn a blank. But I have my fingers crossed as I go about it not giving up.

Blossoming And Blooming After Forty!

Human beings have tried since times immemorial to win over death and erase the advancing years from the face of time. To remain forever young has been singularly the strongest desire of the living...and among women it is perhaps the only aim in life! It is therefore not surprising to note that very few of my gender have learned the art of ageing gracefully. How shocked most women are when a twenty-plus shopkeeper calls them aunty, although we do keep a good track of our looks and stare into the mirror for as long and as often as possible.

I don't know how many women before me have done this, but surely I made an interesting discovery. And as is true of all other discoveries, this one also just fell in my lap while I was trying to figure out something else. I found out, quite contrary to my perception, that for a woman life actually begins to bloom after forty!

At about forty a woman enters the best phase of her life. She has by this time sorted out many of the difficult matters in life requiring attention and tactful solutions. She is through some of the toughest decision making moments and has come out triumphant, she has by this time worked honestly to put her marriage on a solid base, making adjustments and asserting herself as per the demands of the circumstances.

Almost two decades into a marriage, she is now a much contented person, as a serene sense of accomplishment dawns when she sees her hard work bringing in rewards. All through her earlier years she was living for someone...trying to be an obedient daughter, a dutiful wife, a caring mother, a submissive daughter-in-law...but now she can let her hair down and live for herself...she deserves it after all...and now she also has the time to spare for her own self.

So at her fortieth birthday every woman must ideally sit back and relax. Then chalk out a plan for the future to enjoy this beautiful phase to its fullest. A hobby that had to shelved can be revived, or a socially relevant cause can be taken up. Anything that would make her happy.

The sheer enthusiasm it brings is amazing. Now is the time when a woman can really pamper herself going to the movies, plays, concerts, visiting friends...or just window-shopping!
She can work to please herself doing things she always wanted to.

But of course this is not the end of her responsibilities. In fact she is now a friend, philosopher and guide to her children, and so her role, although a little different now, is still very pertinent. She has to help her children take sensible decisions in life giving them enough space to grow on their own.
She has to prepare herself to let go of her offsprings when they are ready to take on the responsibilities of life on their own.

After forty although many of her problems may seem ironed out, it is important that a woman pays attention to her specific needs. She must take good care of herself, excercise regularly and eat well keeping in mind the special requirements of her body at this transitional phase.

She must also once in a while go and see her doctor to keep fit and healthy. She must essentially prepare herself for grey hair and wrinkles of maturity, while being independent and happy and forever remaining an important member in the family and also an asset to the society.

So, calling all the fortunate forty plus females to take on the world with a renewed vigour as the best is yet to come...the glorious period in life has just begun...

Zohra Javed

The Helping Hand And A Reassuring Smile

One may have a lot of courage and fortitude, but human beings need to share their joys and worries to keep their system normal. Man is, as they say a social animal and needs to be looked after and cared for. This is more than evident in times of a crisis.

I have realised with experience that in difficult times, everything seems to stand still around you. The clock ticks, but the time does not pass. The world moves around with its usual fervour, but nothing means much in those dark hours. The feeling of being in a vaccum is suffocating. The mind is blank and the eyes don't see much. Therefore there have to be real human beings around who can make that dark, difficult phase a wee bit more tolerable and less painful.

It also helps to look around and its not difficult to find hundreds and thousands of people in much worse conditions, people who have nothing but courage to fall back on.

Like one of those unfortunate women living in the Dharavi slums of Mumbai whose son fell down fromthe terrace of a four storey building. The trauma that she went through as a mother and the bigger trauma that her misery brought was untold.
Her dry lips and horrified eyes did convey her shock as she moved like a programmed robot in the hospital corridor.
But she bravely held herself together.
She did not loose hope in one of the worst times of her life.

There is another woman selling saris going door-to-door trying to raise enough money so that she can meet the expenses for the treatment of her only son who is suffering from thalassemia. Under tremendous pressure and mental agony she deals with customers haggling for a better bargain and many times may not strike a deal even after much sincere effort. But with each passing day she seems to grow stronger in her fight with Fate, and every sunrise is a new beginning for this courageous woman, who in a weak moment did admit that she may not ultimately win against Fate.

And there is Dr.Shah Faesal from Kashmir who has topped the IAS list this year. He breaks down often when he remembers how his father was butchered like so many other innocents, and sacrificed at the altar of the conflict in the Kashmir Valley.
He has endured so much that has scarred his life forever. However he did not cow down to the extreme distress in his life. It actually went on to make him stronger enabling him to face the challenges in life with greater fortitude.

But I was not thinking about these brave persons the day my mother suffered a heart attack. Looking at her helplessly as she went through the discomfort and pain, it was only her agony that mattered. And as she lay in the hospital with some tubes attached to her organs, a small screen displaying some numbers that showed her condition to be stable, in my own insipid state of mind I could not even infer that life is all about some joys here, some pain there, and the magic act of sharing where joys shared are doubled and pain shared is halved.

So as I sat in the waiting area of the hospital with my siblings, there were others too whose relatives were in the Critical Care Unit and who were as anxious as we were, or perhaps even more than us. I did not look at their listless faces and sleepless eyes. A queer definiteness deep inside me said that it would not help ease my nerves.
But there had to be something that would.
Prayer?
Yes! Prayer always helps.

So prayer it was. The distracted mind was hardly at peace.
Concentration was difficult.
But just a couple of words with God were soothing.

And as hours passed giving way to a new dawn, those listless faces and sleepless eyes, which had hitherto scared me began to denote ex-pressions of support and an unknown connection began to develop. Although the smiles were mirthless, the eyes still frightened, the mind not yet at peace, there still seemed to be a reassurance in the air as we exchanged feeble smiles.
I realised the power of a smile then. Even if that was just a frail curve of the lips, the exercise had tremendous potential to relieve the nerves of tension and pressure.

Also supportive were friends and family whom I can never thank enough.
And among them all, stands out the one who reminded me to come out of my condition, look around and discover that I am not alone, and neither am I nor my mother helpless...
all I need to do is gather my guts and realise my potential to sail through.

Hence I say that while one may have a lot of courage and fortitude, yet one may tend to forget, due to baffling situations in a crisis, certain basics of keeping their feet firmly on the ground. At such emotionally stressful times human beings do need people who can remind them to share their worries and come out of their troubles fearlessly.
At one time or another, in life we all need a helping hand.