Suddenly the world has become totally dark. I am not able to see anything. I guess I will never be able to see again. I will never be able to speak or listen again. I can no longer move my limbs. I know I just have a few hours to live. And all I can do in these last few hours of my life is, ‘think’. I cannot act. My time is over…
I am not a great man. I just lived like a common man and I am dying like one. It is therefore immaterial as to where I was born or where I lived or for that matter, even where I am dying.
I could not have behaved in any other way than how I did when I was a kid. It was largely uneventful. Perhaps no other phase in my life was as happy as that. “Happiness is nothing but a good health and a bad memory.” And when I was a kid, I had both – a good health (thanks to my parents) and a bad memory!
The only thing that bothered me as I grew up was my school. As my ‘bad’ memory started improving, I was reminded of the painful punishments I received for having not completed my assignments in time.
With the improvement in memory, intelligence developed. Call it creativity or whatever; I began to think vividly on a number of other ways to do a thing rather than just going by instincts.
From somewhere sprung an awareness of ‘I’ – a sense of ego, that took the command over my thinking. I was totally unaware of my instincts being faded away insidiously. And I called myself a ‘Grown up.’
Whenever I chose a wrong way to do a thing, my conscience warned me. But I neglected it a few times and after some time it never came my way.
With practically no resistance from anyone, I began doing things which would fascinate a teenage mind. Fast-moving life and things which are pleasant - irrespective of whether they are beneficent or not, enticed me. I never thought of the future. I just lived for that particular day as if that was the last day of my life. Had I known that the last day would be so very painful, I would have acted otherwise.
I continued to act the same way even after my teenage. I fought with my mother for not giving me any present on my birthday. I had forgotten all the long years of her love and care. I just wanted her to show her love for me on that particular day. Why did I live just for that day?
I remember having picked up a quarrel with my father for not getting me a sports bike on my graduation day as he promised. I had said, “You don’t love me, dad,” forgetting all the things he had given me till then. Because on that particular day, to me the sports bike was worth more than the priceless love and affection he had for me. Why did I live just for that day?
Ever since I was a kid, I was greatly quixotic as to what profession to choose. A few historical personalities had influenced my mind and I wanted to become like them. But that needed a lot of sacrifices. I started becoming pragmatic because I wanted to live just for those days.
Living just for a day began so much a part of me that I started celebrating things for just one day without having truly lived the occasion or the reason behind it. I was celebrating my birthday every year inviting a lot of friends for the party. I had always invited my best friend specially for the occasion but he never made his presence there. I knew the reason. He did not like the company of friends I was keeping and the things we did there. He tried to dissuade me from their company many a times but the lifestyle had so much entrenched my mind that I seldom listened to him. Not just that, I also fought with him for not making it to those occasions. To me, my birth-day was more important than the countless number of days he had stood by me. From that day onwards we never met. Nor we spoke. Why did I live just for that day?
I never forgot to celebrate the birthdays and wedding anniversary of my parents. I used to bring them lots of presents and greeting cards and celebrated those days with grandiosity. I never realized that my presence, love and support were worth more than those things for them. Which is why I parted ways with them and left them alone in their last days of life? Those differences of opinions are bound to occur owing to the generation gap. But all I thought on that day was I was strong enough to live independently. Why did I live just for that day?
It is probably the same reason why I was not all that happy with my spouse and kids. I bought them expensive gifts and articles thinking that the prices of those articles were a direct measure of my love for them. Their lives would have been much better if I were to give them the gift of time. The true measure of your love is the amount of your precious time you devote for a thing. I realized it quite late when they started misinterpreting my advices. By the time you realize what your father said was right, you will have a son who always thinks you are wrong!
Not that I never made an attempt to correct myself, but truly they too lasted just for a day. I continued the tradition of my family in performing rituals annually on different occasions. I made use of those occasions to make resolutions and come up once again. But again, those occasions were more important to me than every day. So, I followed them only on those days. Why did I live just for that day?
I saw the effects of whatever I did in the last few days of my life. I lost my health and I was bedridden. I lost my best friend and his companionship. I lived with the guilt of having not stood by my parents when they needed me most. My spouse and my kids are yet to realize like what I am feeling right now because they are living just for today.
3 comments:
good to see that you have started blogging! :) will keep a tab on you now!!!
Did you write this? seems inspired by swamiji writing or swamiji's writing.. either case.. its good..
Of course.. I wrote it. And no doubt, inspired by Swamiji!!
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