Washed Away

After weeks of alternating days of warm and cold, it rained, all night. In March. In Mumbai.

For the Mumbaikars, this incindent is a shocking one indeed. Because of one simple reason, it doesn’t rain in Mumbai – and that too in March. There is a very specific window of time, when it pours rather heavily in Mumbai and beyond that specific period nobody can imagine raining in Mumbai.

But, while all the Mumbai-wallahs are happy with the arrival of a soothing climate after a few days of scorching heat, my family is grieves for an irreplaceable loss. The loss of a son, a husband and most importantly of a father. Last month on the 12th of February we lost our father, merely aged 48. The loss has put a great impact on my family. His was the one hand that held us in a loving yet strict control.

Since his death, almost after a fortnight, I have acquired some strength to write a sort of an eulogy. If you have read my post on rains you would have some theoretical idea of the beauty that surrounds my Mumbai home when it rains and it is this beauty of nature that has inspired me to write this. Another reason for some relief in my heart might be due to the fact that it has again started flowering in our garden.

My father’s death is the first time I experienced death in such close proximity and felt the pain of loss intensely. I start to think now that whenever a soul leaves the earth, the universe feels the pain. The day we returned from Bombay, after cremating my father, that night was a night of silence and intense pain. Not only for us, but for our pets as well.

They cried all night long, and the strange thing is that we didn’t even bring the body back to home. We directly went from the hospital to the crematorium. The next morning we noticed an even stranger difference. The plants that flowered everyday, didn’t even bore a single bud. And with every passing day, as we started to recover from the pain, the plants started bearing flowers.

It is now that I have a feeling that the universe is indeed a connected sphere, and when a soul journeys from this sphere to the next, the universe feels the pain. And the impact that it produces is quite observable.

The beauty with which the nature presents itself here at Ambarnath is quite spectacular. It has been raining since yesterday, and the night is equally beautiful as the day. Now quite a few people have requested me to see what my house at Ambarnath looks like, what I boast about, and where my father exhaled his last breaths. Here’s a look.

This weather is perfect for writing. As I mentioned the weather was the reason I chose to write in the first place.

Now that it is raining, the animals around our house are rejuvenated too. The squirrel comes out more often from its hole. The dog lays in the sun more often, now that it is becoming cold.

The flowers as I mentioned earlier are hatching more often. Their colours are more brilliant than ever. They have all got new life and energy in them.

With the arrival of rain, I certainly hope that along with it washing away the dirt, it also washes away our pain. May the lord give us strength.