Mysorean

On a usual Sunday morning, my sister-in-law and I proceeded to the Chennai airport in a state of drowsiness after having watched the drubbing India received at the hands of the so-called “minnows” Bangladesh. We were to take the Indian Airlines flight to Hyderabad. Our agendas were different though. I was going to Hyderabad to see my tata who was quite ill for sometime and she was there on some academic pursuit. The flight was delayed by ten minutes or so, as usual.

As usual, my brother was outside the airport doing a taxi with our car outside the airport to avoid the exorbitant parking fees. I gave him a missed call to signal that we were outside the airport and he could move towards the “Arrivals” gate. As usual, he came and we boarded amidst loud music orchestrated by the synchronised sounding of horns by the drivers of the cars behind us. As usual, we left the airport and reached home.

As usual, my mother asked me if I wanted anything to eat and I said “Yes! The breakfast was as bad as if I had cooked!” So my grandmother gave me two slices of bread with butter because a heavy breakfast would mean I would have to ration my intake during lunch! And it was after a long time that I was at home for a meal. As usual, that too!

Before I munched on those slices in I went in to see my beloved tata. I was shocked to see him bed-ridden. At 86 years of age, many of us might say it is not uncommon to see someone bed-ridden. If only those who feel that way had seen my tata a couple of months back would have eaten their words. He was as active as any normal person. And he was proud of it. Now here he was in front of me barely managing to breathe. I expected him to be ill, but this was a shock to me. I also expected him to be back to his normal – taking those evening walks near the swimming pool (in Jayanagar 3rd block) and walking to any of the functions he was invited to. Even a youngster of 20 years would hesitate before taking the walking route to any of the venues!

As soon as he saw me, he said, “Oh neena? Bandya? Baa Baa!” (Oh! so you are here!) It was as if he was expecting me there. It was a surprise that he recognized me. According to my father the urea levels in his blood had gone up to such high levels that his brain was malfunctioning and wouldn’t identify anyone. So, I was pleasantly surprised with this. But not yet sure if he identified me.

And he went on further to strengthen my surprise, “So, next month you will have a son or daughter. We shall speak next time”. I was indeed surprised at that. I didn’t know what to say. I was overwhelmed with an unknown feeling. I stayed on there for a few more minutes not knowing what to do and left the room.

The doctor came in and said that he wanted to take a blood sample to get it tested. He must have inserted the needle at atleast 12 – 15 places before he could collect the 5ml of blood from my tata’s body. The act of seeing the needle being inserted at so many places itself had me turning my head away everytime the needle was brought near the hand. But tata’s facial expressions were as if nothing ever happened to him. The doctor was finally successful in getting 5ml into his syringe and we went along with him to a nearby hospital to submit it for the test.

After a while (2 hours) I went to the hospital and picked up the report and came back home. But while collecting the report the lab assistant told me that the patient needed to be on dialysis urgently. He was quite shocked that the patient was still at home despite the clinically stunning results that the report in front of him had. I came home and called up our doctor to read out the results. The doctor said, ”We shall keep him on a dose of medicines and shall observe for the next few hours. If there is not improvement in his condition then it will be a serious case then. He instructed us to continuously feed him with water at regular intervals”. My father, just got up from his siesta, and got onto the job of feeding tata with water every 15 minutes.   

As usual, I felt like sleeping during the afternoon. And I dozed off for about an hour. After the nap, it was time to accompany my SIL to one of my relatives’ place. (Btw, this relative – Manjula aka Manju - runs a blog too. This one) Before leaving I asked my father if the car could be used or it would be necessary in case of an emergency at home. My father assured me that tata would be alright and we left home in the car.

We reached Manju’s home after about an hour or so as it was quite far. Manju and my SIL had just started speaking when my phone rang. It was my brother on the other side, he said, “Adi, chikkappa (uncle in kannada, also a doctor) has just said that with that kind of a blood report, tata will not survive beyond 12 – 14 hours”. I replied, “They have just started speaking. We will wrap up in 15 minutes and come right back” and ended the call.

It was maybe 3 or 5 minutes since the call had ended and I was debating in my mind whether to leave abruptly or stay on, another call came and ended the debate conclusively. It was my brother. He said, “Adi, tata hogbittru” (Adi, grandfather passed away). I said, “Yeah, we are coming rightaway” and got up and announced the bad news to the people there and proceeded to the car. Drove back within 45 minutes and was at home.

Meanwhile, at home, after my chikkappa’s (uncle’s) call, my parents immediately went and sat down next to my tata to be with him through this. There was little else they could do. Our doctor had been informed and he was on his way too. A few minutes later, tata started jaw breathing. It is said that once a critically-ill person starts jaw breathing it’s the beginning of his last moments. He gasped for breath thrice, looked at my father for one last time and silence. My father got up and cried, “Anna! anna!” and started rubbing his hands and feet. But no response, only silence. My father doesn’t know how to check the pulse, so he kept his ear close to his father’s heart to see if there was any sound. Silence was the response. In this silence, it was easy to identify that the sound of the scooter that approached our house was of our doctor’s. So my father ran out to the balcony to ask the doctor to rush upstairs. The doctor was instead trying to collect all the injections and medicines he had got from the scooter. My father asked him to come up quickly and showed him a thumbs down sign. Our doctor came up hurriedly only to confirm a clinical angle of the silence.

Then began a flurry of phone calls to convey condolences to the bereaved family. My tata was a very loved and respected figure across the family. We (My brother and I) must have handled atleast a hundred calls within three hours that Sunday on the mobile as well as land line. We had lost a very important person in our family and for my father it is a huge loss. He was shaken up and needed our support at that time to recover. As one of my uncles said, “It was the end of an era”.

While dropping me back to the airport, in the car, my father said, “While sending us down here on this earth, God has given us all the information we need to live our lives but witheld one important piece and that is ’when?’. Our entire medical sciences put together cannot answer exactly when it is going to happen”

Tata was the one who always held me in great esteem and I can say I was his most loved grandchild. He was the one with whom I had once walked from Jayanagar 3rd block to Banashankari 3rd stage to visit one my friends who wasn’t at home that particular day. Tata was the one with whom I had most arguments about how music meant something more than just ‘carnatic classical music’ (My father was recollecting, “Tata never accepted any other form of music as music. To him Carnatic classical music was the be-all and end-all of music. In fact, few minutes before he left he asked to play a certain veena concert for him on the cassette player”) He was the one who wrote letters to me when I did well during my academic days. He was the one who ‘arranged’ my marriage. He was the one I would call regularly (every second and fourth monday of the month) and update about my financial matters and my wife’s health. He would unfailingly ask me about my weight and enquire if I was doing anything in the direction of losing that extra kilos. He was the one I could discuss anything under the sun. He was a man with an open and progressive mind. His attitude towards life is something I need to learn and inculcate in myself. A man who greatly impacted every life he came in contact with and transferred his energy to the world.

I will miss you tata!

May your soul Rest In Peace.        

Trackback this Post | Feed on comments to this Post