A fortnight ago my son got a seizure attack, fell in the washroom and injured himself.I panicked at the sight of him lying in a pool of blood. The incident shook me and I’m still coming to terms with it. But I remind myself that I could get timely help and avoid the worse. This was not the first time that I bought my calm senses to the fore. He being autistic my energies are challenged everyday. But this time around it was something I was slightly unprepared for. There comes a time in life when certain incidents wane away our vigor and fortitude. It’s then the memory of some long forgotten episode strikes a note and makes it bearable for us. In moments of emotional catastrophe, memories often turn out to be the ultimate reserves of psyche. The mysterious spectrum which focuses on our basic feelings about life.We never know which memory planted in our past will grow to be a rose. Time and again most pronounced and acknowledged remembrances are ostensibly simple and ones that do not rock the boat.They have capability to replenish our self belief.
These days I have my eyes peeled on an abandoned nest. It had been a flurry of activity few months ago and now it is placid. I am alluded to this perpetual fancy of watching this forsaken nest. I am actually awaiting it to break into activity all over again.Reasonably so ,as I had witnessed a remarkable workmanship of intricately woven grass and twigs,leaves and feathers. An architectural marvel of elegance and endurance on the well-hidden crotches of the tree. The bird gave it up without demur once it was done with raising it’s fledglings. How I wish I could have been like the bird !.
I had to encounter the agony of giving away the only home I grew up. My growing up years , brief as it was , was spent in that house, exquisitely touched with laughter and tears. I had accepted separation the day I was married and was exclusively in the process of building a new home. But was never adapted to giving it away altogether.I had assured myself to retreat to this place whenever I wanted my moments of peace and had to take an edge off from my worries. But I was shattered , when my parents decided to sell off the house and move into our ancestral home. The very thought of never coming back again to pick up the strings of memories was harrowing.When the final day came, I picked up a quiet corner and shuddered away, as tears welled up. Downhearted unlike the bird. The ultimate farewell was so full of sadness.
As the years passed by , I acceded to the fact that it was not just about the house but the special and beautiful place I held for it in my heart. I didn’t have to say ‘good-bye’ and give into the misery of that word. A thought crossed my heart that I just had to look back on the moments of liveliness, solace and at times euphoria spent in that house. I merely had to lock away those memories into the sunny corner of my heart.So whenever I had to endure separation from anything as dear as that, I had to reach deep within me and bring back that moment from the sunny corner. Instantly I knew the meaning of never saying ‘good -bye’ and putting myself into blue funk. Possibly the bird too took away the such moments of joy and happiness!