Life Without Strife

"I saw the car crash as if I was there and I get up screaming each time" whimpered Malini. Malini's son died in a car crash in Australia a couple of years ago. He was working for a multi-national company and posted there. 

The Australian highway patrol controller had called her once they identified the body. The controller could trace her number and gave her the sad news.

It has been frequent sleepless nights for Malini since that call.She had slipped into depression and disconnected from her husband as well. 

Only recently she sought psychiatrist help and her life began to normalise. 

Malini was narrating the car crash to Gopal, his sister Meera and her husband Vasudev. Gopal lives in Bangalore and once in a while visits Meera and his mother who lived in the home for elderly. 

Gopal and Malini had a common interest in reading books. They would discuss some books they had recently. Nothing beyond that.

On the foot hills of Marudamalai, the senior citizens home got built some years ago. One could see the verdant hills from there. With trees planted that had grown big the home itself became sylvan. In the morning elderly men and women plucking the white and yellow flowers to offer to the gods is a regular sight. 

At dawn coffee, tea or milk would get served in the mess. Some ordered it for home delivery by paying a wage to Gajendran. He would go around the apartments to collect the flask the previous night. The next morning he would deliver your morning drink of our choice. In the same way he would deliver lunch and dinner too. One could hear the rattling of the trolley at the time of breakfast and lunch. Then you know Gajendran is around. 

Once Malini said bye to the group and went away, Meera remarked "the home is full of such tragic stories." She continued " you know Appa's friend Sambamurthi uncle. A month before he slipped and fell in the bathroom. He remained in and out of consciousness and groaning in pain. His friend Ramaswamy didn't see him for lunch and came by to enquire, when he found him lying in the bathroom."

"Doesn't he have sons and daughters living in the country" Gopal enquired.

"He does. Both the son and daughter got married outside their caste. Sambu Uncle hasn't forgiven them" answered Meera.

"Even in the 21st century people cannot shed their caste. Damn this country" Gopal retorted in fury and went out for a walk.

His mother stayed in a separate apartment hundred metres away. Vasukhi, his mother's care taker remained during the day. She would come at about eight in the morning. Give his mother a bath, dress change, comb her hair and provide her breakfast. Now and then his mother would demand some snack and Vasukhi would oblige. 

Gopal narrated Malini's story to Vasukhi as he wanted to get some steam off. "Anna, Meerakka has told me that you write stories. do you want to hear my tragic story?" she asked.

"why not?" responded Gopal.

Vasukhi began. " My younger son, Murugan always had a thing with animals. He loves dogs, cats, tends a few chicks we have. And would you believe me he even catches snakes" she paused. " 

"He is a member of the local nature club. He and his friends would catch snakes in the village and the neighbourhood. They would then release them in the forest of Marudhamalai."

Gopal became all ears and exclaimed "snakes, that is something." He had read somewhere in a study that stated snakes was one of the most feared reptiles by the humans.

He noticed then that tears had filled up in Vasukhi's eyes and her face reflected grief. 

He asked "did he get bitten by a snake?"

"yes, one moment of distraction" she whimpered in sorrow. "Even though his friends had tied up his upper arm his lower arm had got amputated. The poison had spread in the lower arm and developed gangrene."

Gopal held her hand and they remained in silence.

Vasukhi gathered herself. Murugan became violent post the accident. Vasukhi and her husband admitted him in a rehabilitation home. But her mother's love prevailed and she brought him home after a few months at the home. She managed to get a government dole for accident victims for her son. He now looks after poultry and drives a moped single handed. 

Vasukhi broke the silence. She said " I heard from my husband, that Meerakka was looking for a care taker for your mother. That is how I am here."

"that is not the only tragedy in my life" she continued. "I lost my son-in-law to COVID. Luckily the university gave my daughter a job where my son-in-law was working. My daughter has a graduate degree and she helps in the library. She now earns enough to get by."

"double whammy" exclaimed Gopal. Yet the people continue to pray to God who has brought in tragedy in their life. Karma, it gets called. People believe such tragedy is a thing from past life. Gopal couldn't accept such a reasoning.

Vasukhi interrupted the silence that had fallen. she asked "anna, you tell me whose tragedy is greater?"

Gopal remained silent for want of an answer. 

Gopal's aunt walked in when he was relaxing. She said "don't mistake me. You need to take your mom with you and find her another place in Bangalore."

She went on to describe how mom-daughter relationship was nose diving. Meera, my sister, was getting affected by it. I knew the situation already. Meera herself had described an incident when she blew her top. Vasudev, an epitome of patience, too had added how he himself was losing his cool. Both, Meera and Vasudev got re-married during COVID. Gopal thought they both deserved a happy life without the nagging presence of his mother.

When his aunt left Gopal had made up his mind. He would look around for a home and take his mother to Bangalore. My mom in her old days had become difficult to handle. She has stopped listening to anybody and had her own whims and fancies. Both Meera and Gopal, as children, considered their dad to be lucky when he passed away.

When Gopal was on the train that night he pondered which of the stories he had heard was the most tragic. He recalled a Buddhist parable. When a mother who lost her son approached Buddha to revive his son. Buddha had told her sure enough, if you could get him a handful of grains from a house where no tragedy had occurred. The mother searched and searched until she realised her the futility of her effort. 

As stoicism puts it you have control over how you respond to situations but now how situations turn out to be. 

It is since few months Gopal's mother has been living in an elderly home at Bangalore. Gopal looks up her once a week and takes something nice to eat. His friends ask him how is his mother doing. Gopal tells them that it is her last resort. This is the best he could do for her.