Dear Guru Dada,
It’s been almost three months since we’ve spoken and over two and half months since we communicated in any form. You have been on my mind almost everyday as I reminiscenced our shared past. It is then I realized that we have never written letters to each other. So, I thought, I’d make a new beginning. In any case, I can’t pickup the phone and call you whenever I fancied a counsel or a fight or an analysis on cricket or politics now, can I?
But when we had the time, we did discuss quite a lot, didn’t we, Da? The topics ranged from Cricket to Politics to Theology to Anthropology. You always held your forte in any of them with your elephantine memory that you so zealously acquired from a very young age. Your enthusiasm for current affairs and sundry knowledge knew no boundary. The first thing you searched for in a new town was library. I fondly remember you taking me to that decrepit central library in Bidar some evenings. You introduced me to Op-Ed pages, as you sat to devour the writings of Shouries, Mehtas, Ted Corbetts of the world. In a way you did fuel my interest and majorly influenced me into reading long pieces of writings on sports, politics, philosophy. I didn’t tell you that before, did I?
You know, Da, just yesterday the Indian cricket team won a memorable Test match at the Lord’s. It was one of those snatching victory from the jaws of defeat, as they say. I am sure you would’ve enjoyed it and texted me immediately like you did when they won that Test match in Brisbane early this year. The text was followed by a long phone conversation where you extolled the virtues of fearless cricket displayed by Rishabh Pant and his ilk. I can only imagine what would you’ve said of the match yesterday. Because, there was lot of fearless play displayed this time too by Jasprit Bumrah and Mohd Shami. They were intimidated, pounded with bouncers, hit on helmets but it only seemed to have made them play better and take sweet revenge on their tormentors later in the day. The stuff you’d have appreciated whole heartedly.
The sheer zeal you posessed to aquire knoweledge was only matched by your unbridled laziness to put it to use. The only time you passiontely put it on display was to put me down in my place, when you thought I was flying too high with my what-aboutery. I always enjoyed those cerebral bouts where both of us tried to put a display of our argumentative skills with whatever we aquired from the varied things we had read. The thrill we derived, when it became apparent that the other one was losing an argument or found to be lacking in knowledge, was pure bliss. It’s one of those shenanigans siblings enjoy indulging in quite often. Invariably it ended up improving our English vocabulary, if nothing else, because you did posess an enviable repertoire of words, didn’t you, da? So, imagine my schadenfreude when I had to explain you the meaning of schadenfreude. (To give you a hint, it was not very different from the one you experienced when you put my arm down in that memorable arm wrestling challenge refereed by our dear sister.) Quite often we ended up annoying each other, obviously. You with your irkingly patronising tone towards me and me with my brash, impolite and rude language towards you. For all the times I called you names, I have never sought your forgiveness, have I? I know it never bothered you, but, dear dada, please pardon my petulance. Boy! We are truly breaking new grounds, today, aren’t we!
Da, as you know, we often discussed how greed is self centered. I have now realized even grief is self centered. Perhaps, I can say this is the last thing you’ve helped me understand. You see, most of our grief begins from moping for the self. ‘What will I do?’ ‘Who will I go to?’ ‘What will happen to me’? ‘Who will I talk to’? et al. But we don’t generally think from the departed soul’s point of view. We don’t generally grieve about the things that he will miss - ‘How he’ll miss on kids growing up’? ‘Miss on great moments in sports and life’? The fact that I am writing you this letter shows that my grief is mostly about me. The things that I did with you and will miss doing. And it hurts, da! It hurts very bad!
You know, Da, the thing that I have thought the most during these days is, it’s how you were always lazy to the bone when it came to leaving home for anything - a master procrastinator like no one. In fact you were late to catch a bus or train many times because of this. Due to your dilly dallying, we never went out to eat even once during your many visits here although we planned it each and every time. So then, why, Da, why did you have to leave on that day in such hurry at that very moment? Why did you have to keep that appointment so badly? Why did you not procrastinate at least by a few minutes? I will lose a million arguments to you and a thousand arm wrestling bouts, if you were to come back. I know, Da, I know! I am being insane. But you’ve always challenged my sanity to the extreme.
It’s also true, as we said many times before, that life will find a way to be cheerful. To be alive is to find reasons to be happy. We humans, like any other animal, are wired to be not sad for a long time. We all strive to find happiness in the smallest of things, however ephemeral that could prove to be. So, life will return to its banal, relentless normalcy, sooner or later. But without you in it, da, it won’t be the same, ever!
–With Love, KG