Worth of things

Mostly it is loss which teaches us about the worth of things;  

Today my grandmother passed away and so with this a whole generation from which I come from is no longer there. It’s not grief but a sense of loss which fills me up.

Genetics tells us how closely we are bound together, all of us, from the tribal people of Peru to Aborigines of Australia. Everything resides in us. All that millions of years of evolution could encode into our genes is within all of us. Yet it’s Death which snaps us makes us wonder the importance of life. 

Why do I have this sense of loss? I wasn’t close to her. I had never lived with her. All I did was spent a few days here and there on vacations. But still there is a pang in my heart today. She was last of my grandparents. My paternal Granddad had passed away when I was pretty young and was living with my other grandparents, so I didn’t feel the loss. Both my maternal grandparents passed away in the US when I was in India so again it wasn’t in front of me.  So, this one seems a little more real to me.

This loss is isn’t the one with sentiments and I am not crying. But it is something practical, something like a loss of a possession that you loved. You feel bad but you accept it. You realise that you won’t get it back and yet you can’t get over the feeling of loss.

Why, what is pomp, rule, reign, but earth and dust?
And, live we how we can, yet die we must.

Over the course of even my life the medical care system has improved dramatically, the Death is no longer in our face. Either it is very sudden or prolonged in old age. Humanity is close to solving the biggest problems in Physics, we are shooting for Mars and beyond. Technology is not only reaching the deepest parts of the world but is making a level playing field for everyone. No longer only can the rich contribute to the world but now it is in the grasp of anyone and everyone to make this planet better. However, if I have to choose what the greatest achievement for us, it has to be, 'Medical care'. Today, if something sudden or dramatic doesn’t happen most people live up to a ripe old age. They see their children and grandchildren grow up. 

My ‘Dadi’ passed away at the age of 97, she had seen her grandparents and became great-great-grandmother in her life. As middle class Indians we couldn’t have imagined that even 25 years ago.

However the question is where it would end or are we just at the beginning of a revolution which will enhance life to a point where it would seem unending. Maybe and I hope so, I know it would bring a lot of social issues but we should try it. It's worth giving people a life, long enough for them to fulfil all their dreams. This is a cause worth dying for.

For in that sleep of death what dreams may come.

Who was she? This has been a question which has been with me for a long time. I know a lot about my other three grandparents. I had physically seen their brothers and sisters, their families and hence they seemed real. But not my ‘Dadi’, she seemed alone.

She was a beautiful woman, tall. Almost 5’6 and with my granddad being 6’1, they formed a handsome couple. She herself always said that she was plump when she got married. But she was beautiful, very fair by Indian standards, almost translucent olive. This you can see today too, in my Aunt, my cousins and even their daughters. They all look beautiful and gorgeous. They all have lovely Indian features. I guess my Dad gets his better looks from her rather than my Granddad. Though how I wished at least he would have got their tall genes too. I don’t know what mutant got into my Dad which made him short.  

I know from my Dad that she had brothers and sisters and even that when I was very young had gone once to her brother’s home. Where did she come from? What was her childhood like? Was she happy child or a naughty child? How was her transition from childhood to being a wife, mother and then grandmother? But more importantly, did she lead a happy life? I guess these are the question I would never be able to answer. But no one can go back and change that, it is here and now.

Her life was a simple one, almost all her life was spent in a little area in a remote part of India. Got married into a fairly rich family but lived most of her best years in poverty. Over time things eased out and day to day worries weren’t an issue. She was allergic to fire and hence couldn’t cook in the old ‘Chulha’ and so when my Aunt got married, cooking became my father’s job. He wasn’t very fond of it though. My grandfather was very fond of eating fish, and my father had to clean and cook it for him every other day. One day my father snapped and refused to clean and cook fish for my grandfather, since that day my father rarely eats fish.   

But, what did I lose today? Is it snapping of that genetic history or something more than that. I guess we are more than our genetic makeup. What we learn, what we make of ourselves. I know one thing for sure I will be denied of her mouth watering ‘Bijouras’ from now on for sure, I am sure no one can copy her recipe of these ‘Spicy Sesame Seed Crispy’.  Or her ‘Achaar’, she made them so different from others. I wish somehow this knowledge could have been preserved in its authentic form.    

As we are becoming a global village we seem to be losing the diversity which was created by people living in smaller pockets across the globe. Even when there was exchange of knowledge it was in small vicinity. This did lead to the development of highly diverse cultures, customs, cuisines and even languages. The globalization and standardization are threatening it at a very rapid pace.  I don’t know is it a good thing or bad, this is something only an anthropologist can tell better. However, I know with my ‘Dadi’, her recipes of ‘Bijoura’ and ‘Badi’ are gone. 

I and my cousin will never laugh at her when she used to question us on how did we know that when man lands on the moon, the people there do not hide or turn into stone with fear. Even as a kid I was more astonished than fearful of her belief in ghosts and all her ghost stories. She would tell tales of her encounters with them and also about a lot of all the people she knew.

na jayate mriyate va kadacin
nayam bhutva bhavita va na bhuyah
ajo nityah sasvato 'yam purano
na hanyate hanyamane sarire

The soul never takes birth and never dies at any time,

Nor does it come into being again when the body is created.

The soul is birthless, eternal, imperishable and timeless and

Is never terminated when the body is terminated.

Mythology is an important way to understand the history. It is these stories which tell us what our forefathers thought of the world around them. Throughout the history of India many people believed in them and many didn’t. Gautam Buddha discarded a lot of prevalent mythology of his times, he was even against the concept of God but times change and his followers have created his own myths now. However, they are an important source of history; they tell us the evolution of thought for humanity. In Hinduism the difference between a human, a God (‘Deva’) and a demon (‘Asura’) wasn’t much and hence the interplay has been very interesting. Of course Death plays a very important part of these texts.

Hinduism always had been different than other religions when it comes to Death. The concept of soul and the five elements make it significantly different than especially the western tree of religions. Though the concept of Hell came into it very late through the inclusion of scriptures like Garuda Puran. The older texts like Vedas only refer to ‘Narak’ as a place of darkness where souls go to expunge their sins. The western style Hell is only in the Garuda Purana. But the concept of Heaven has always been there and what makes it interesting is that in Hinduism, Gods are not the omnipotent, omni-benevolent and omniscience, they are just elevated souls. They suffer from the same frailty and hence common souls can fight them and challenge them. Hence to imbibe the concept of hell into the theology has always been difficult. Even ‘Yama’, the ruler of the ‘Narak’ is not evil, he is compassionate. Though, his job is to take the souls but only temporarily. Heaven is also not the same, it is just considered a great place to live and in mythology various Kings have not only made their kingdoms better than Heaven but also have sometimes conquered it. You can’t even spend eternity there, there is an expiry date to it and you got to come back to earth to do your duties again.    

We cannot hold mortality's strong hand.

Her last few days were troubled, though she could breathe on her own but yet all her other senses were gone. She didn’t open her eyes for last one week, didn’t speak and had to be fed. She had bedsores too. Though, yesterday, she did open her eyes and said something to my father and uncle, it was incomprehensible. 

I have never been afraid of my own death but I don’t want a slow death, I wish that I die in the heat of things, maybe an airplane accident or just pop off somewhere without anyone knowing about it. 

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rage at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.”

However, Now at the end of her life a part of her lives in me and all of us cousins and it would be so in the generation after us. This is how she still lives on, in us. Now it is for us to make our lives and this world better.  

A Hymn from Rig Veda, which glorifies life even in death. It astonishes me that this was written almost 3000 years ago. This shows the continuation of humanity from one to another. 

परं म्रत्यो अनु परेहि पन्था यस्ते स्व इतरो देवयानात ई I 

चक्षुष्मते श्रन्वाते ते ब्रवीमि माँ नः प्रजां रीरिषो मोत वीरान II

म्र्त्योः पदं योपयनतो यदैत द्रघीय आयुः प्रतर् दधानाः I  

आप्याय्मानाः प्रजया धनेन शुद्धाः पूता भवत यज्ञियासः II

Go hence, O Death, pursue thy special pathway apart from that which Gods are wont to travel.
 
To thee I say it who hast eyes and hearest: Touch not our offspring, injure not our heroes.

As ye have come effacing Mrtyu's (Death’s) footstep, to further times prolonging your existence,
 
May ye be rich in children and possessions. cleansed, purified, and meet for sacrificing.
 
Divided from the dead are these, the living: now be our calling on the Gods successful.
 
We have gone forth for dancing and for laughter, tofurther times prolonging our existence.
 
Here I erect this rampart for the living; let none of these, none other, reach this limit.
 
May they survive a hundred lengthened autumns, and may they bury Death beneath this mountain.
 
As the days follow days in close succession, as with the seasons duly come the seasons,
 
As each successor fails not his foregoer, so form the lives of these, O great Ordainer.
 
Live your full lives ap! find old age delightful, all of you striving one behind the other.
 
May Tavshta, maker of fair things, be gracious and lengthen out the days of your existence.