I have just returned from a very short trip to Baroda after attending shraddha (a Hindu ritual performed for deceased parents/ancestors) of my mother. I must admit, my heart has become little heavy and spirit weary. The pain of losing my mother is seething all over, once again.
Sunday, was my mother's first death anniversary and my entire family had gathered. Naturally, some conversations drew painful emotions and tapped the new spaces of tender aches that surfaced in many ways. I knew those wounds were buried inside those dark spaces that I find too fragile to handle.
During shraddha; so many stories regarding my mother came tumbling out from our minds, layered with nostalgia and made us experience deep turmoil once again. It is strange how every reminder of a person being no more with us snaps something new every time from our core. The silent understanding of my mother's departure and surrendering to the truth has finally taught me to survive each day and smile despite the pain.
Death is the ultimate truth about life and yet when it visits us we are never prepared. When my mother died, after suffering seriously for two painful months, she had a halo around her beautiful face and she looked absolutely at peace and blissful even in her death! It surprised even doctors and nurses who had taken care of her in the battle of life!
I would end this post with one of my mother's favourite poems by Ravindranath Tagore:
Death
"O thou, the last fulfillment of life
Death, my death, come whisper to me!
Day after day I have kept watch for thee;
for thee I have borne the joys and pangs of life.
All that I am that I have, that I hope and all my love
have ever flowed towards thee in depth of secrecy'
One final glance from thine eyes
and my life will ever thine own.
The flowers have been woven
and garland is ready for the bridegroom.
After the wedding bride shall leave her home
and meet her meet her lord alone in solitude of night...."
