Echo Of The Dying Neuron

By Udayakumar DS

“The best portion of a good man’s life is his little, nameless, unencumbered acts of kindness and of love.” — Wordsworth.

I am blessed to live yet another beautiful day. A quiet and peaceful morning graced by bright sunshine clearing the mist and dampness in the air. As I grappled with the bed to lift myself and get out of it, I remembered a heart-touching moment. I am 85 years old now and ready to embrace the end of a fulfilling life. My memory is like a long winding road in a village with numerous potholes of lost events. However, I spontaneously get these flashes of beautiful incidents from the remote past when I least expect it. As I placed my feet on the floor and grabbed hold of my crutches, I tried reliving the memory that flashed in my mind. It is a struggle. The road back to the origin of the incident is foggy. I slowly got up and walked around the room, breaking the stiffness in almost every joint. I reached the windowpane and stood there for a few minutes, bathing in the sunshine. I felt like a chameleon charging itself with the Sun’s heat every morning. All the while, I was recollecting bits and pieces of the memory that reignited my mind. The deep contemplation was broken by the footsteps of my great-granddaughter, Heer rushing to hug me and wish me a good morning.

“Good morning, Ajoba.” She spoke with an air of innocent charm, calling me grandpa in our native tongue. She infuses energy into my ailing heart and mind whenever I see her.

“Good morning, my diamond. You made my day insanely beautiful.” I replied with warmth.

“Breakfast is ready. Come quickly,” she said in a sing-song manner in her melodious voice.

Summer vacations meant that I lived every day in heaven with my Heer. I felt lonely for the past two years since my love reached the heavens. I am grateful she brought our beautiful daughter into our life. My daughter and granddaughter have taken my mother’s role in these two years. And, the little angel Heer has made my days lively and never made me regret a moment I live without my ladylove. Every night before I close my eyes, I do two things; first, I thank my wonderful wife for the beautiful angels she brought into our life; Secondly, I pray to the almighty to take me in his arms while I sleep to reunite with my love soon. For now, I enjoy the company of my girls.

After breakfast, I took my customary position on the drawing-room couch. The place where I spend most of my daytime. The time I provide my service to the little angel, Heer. I am her tutor when she brings her books. I am her cheerleader observing and encouraging her while she ceaselessly plays with various toys sprayed across the floor. Having seen her mother and grandmother during their childhood days, I could not help but notice the striking resemblance in her activities. Her eyes were the most important fact that kept me hitched on her all day. Her greyish-green iris with spots of brown in them descended through the generations from her great-grandmother, my love.

At the stroke of noon, after we had our lunch, something went wrong. She got bored with the toys. This is usually the time she expects me to entertain her. The time I tell her a story during which she will fall asleep. My daughter and granddaughter joined me with a hot filter coffee.

“Storytime, I guess.” My daughter Nisha jumped into the conversation.

I sipped the coffee, letting the aroma and taste do the needed cognitive stimulation. The memory slowly rebuilding from when I woke up formed a better picture. I knew where to begin.

“I am lucky to have such an eager audience,” I said.

“We are lucky to have you, Grandpa”. Said my granddaughter Shakti. She followed the sentence by getting up and giving me a gentle hug caring not to spill the coffee in my hands.

“Today morning, I woke up with a memory from my childhood, which I should say is a surprise for me. I believed I had forgotten all of them. I have managed to pull back almost the entire incident from my ageing neurons. I will share that story that touched my heart.”

“We are ready, Pa. Are you ready, Heer?” asked Nisha jauntily.

A smile from Heer suggested we were ready to go. She was already tucking into her mother’s lap, ready to fall asleep any moment. Practically I was speaking to the grown-up girls.

“The incident happened during the vacations after the fifth-grade exams. It was a hot summer day. We lived in a rented house in the street, not far from here. This house was under construction, and everyone had come here to supervise the work and plant coconut tree saplings around the house.”

“These tall coconut trees which we have now?” asked Shakti.

“Yes, dear. Papa got twelve saplings. Ma and Pa had gone to the house and taken my younger brothers with them. They left me alone at home at ten in the morning. I remember them promising to return in an hour and asking me to watch television until they return. For a while, I watched some movies. A black and white film of good old times. I do not remember having a proper breakfast.

Which is very common during our childhood, skipping meals due to playfulness. An hour became two, and slowly I felt my stomach grumbling. I walked into the kitchen and saw nothing on the kitchen countertop or the dining table. I waited for another 20 to 30 minutes. My stomach started to burn, and I had never felt so hungry. I did not know the way to the new house. The hunger made me angry with my parents and confused. I left the house hastily in search of them. It was too hot; the Sun was baking everything. I walked mindlessly in the street back and forth, crying in hunger and anger. As I reached the edge of the street that connects to the main road, I saw three kids looking at me through the fenced compound. The sons of our mason with whom I must have played a few times in the evenings. Their house was a small hut thatched with coconut tree leaves. All three were standing in the shade of the Neem tree inside the compound. Since we did not know each other well, no words were exchanged the first few times I walked past them. By now, I was incessantly crying, holding my abdomen and must have walked at least ten times back and forth. The street looked deserted as the rest of the inhabitants hid from the heat inside their concrete homes. This time when I reached the edge of the street, the eldest of the three, Sudhakar, gazing at my plight, asked me,

“What happened, brother?” in a kind demeanour.

I moved towards him, crying in pain and anger. I explained my ordeal to them.

“Do you know the way? We can go to them.” He suggested promptly.

“I don’t know where they are. I have never gone to that house.” I croaked.

“Our mom and dad have also gone to work. Do not worry, brother. They will come back soon. You can sit with us here until they come back.” He continued with his kind and welcoming attitude.

I stood close to them on the other side of the fence in the shade of the Neem tree. I felt some respite from the Sun, and just talking with them made me feel a little better. As we discussed what we could do, Sudha returned to his hut. After a few minutes, he returned, clutching a steel glass.

“Please have this, brother”. He offered the glass filled with water, which appeared partly milky.

“What is it?” I asked with a look that didn’t hide the disgust.

“It is rice water. I have added some salt to it. We have only this in our home now.” He replied while his brothers kept watching me.

I had no hesitation in grabbing the glass. I snatched it from his hand and gulped it in a flash.

“Do you want some more, brother? We have some more left.”

I was embarrassed inside. However, I nodded. He went back inside and came back with another glass of rice water. This time I drank slowly. I felt the rice water quench the fire inside me. The tears stopped, and gratitude filled me.

“Thank you so much, Sudha. I will never forget this all my life.”

“Please, brother. We did not have proper food. We were hesitant to offer you this rice water. We did not know if you would like it or not. You would never have had this before.”

“I was burning with hunger, brother. Why would I not like it? You fed me when I was most hungry. I will never forget this until I die.”

We stood there together talking until my parents arrived. That day a family merged with ours. You girls know about Sudha uncle and his brothers. This is how we became brothers. I always remembered what he did for me. A small boy with such a kind attitude. Not only him his brothers too. From that day on, we were as thick as thieves were. They became our extended family, along with my friends from school. We grew up together and faced difficulties in life together. There were days when we had differences. But, we always returned to each other to maintain that relationship, to water the sapling planted in our tiny hearts that day. Now it stands like a tree, like the coconut trees surrounding the house. I am fortunate this memory did not fade away.

Remember the persons who helped you in your adversity. Keep your hands free to extend them during their needs. Keep your hearts open to forgive them. Remember and remember the good deed done to you. That shall keep you humble and grounded.

By Udayakumar DS