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Monday, March 3, 2014

At Peace....... after Death



Meeting With God 

Wake up... son... wake up, its time, a sweet chiming voice echoed in his ear. It  is difficult to understand whether the speaker was male or female. I opened my eyes slowly and showed my irritation by saying, when did you start to talk to me like that? Dad, thinking the smooth calm voice I heard was Dad's. The voice came closer and closer till the person become visible, yup that was dad, alright. But I noticed something strange about dad. What is it? My eyes scanned for a clue. Is it the clean hair cut? Or may be that he is not wearing a sandal, which is so unlikely of father, Nop... that's not it. There is some thing more... regarding his mannerisms, or there is none at all. Is it that he lacks that same ever-prevailing sarcastic look on his face, which proclaims to the world that "look at my son how pathetic, irresponsible, useless he has become"
Looking at my perplexed mind, father spoke, in a refined soothing voice.
What happened? Don't I look the same as ever?
I was still in that puzzled state of mind, I mumbled, No.... I mean yes, but,...... are you his twin?.
Then suddenly  father laughed, for one moment  it felt like  I was in the middle of cherry blossom festival.  I uttered "GOD, what is that feeling ?"
Then it hit me like a thunder bolt, GOD?.....The GOD? Like "Ram"  , "Jesus"...... In my house, no way
Father said "yes way" but in my home.
But you look like my father
So what? Even Saddam Hussain had doubles. After all, you found out that I am not your father, didn't you?
Yes, so?, I replied
So you realise  where are you now and how do you reach here?
 Now I am getting the picture, fuzzy though.  But what happened?, I asked
Before that...... my son, Would you consider the idea of going back to where you left? Seeing your mother, friends, lover...if you have one? and of course your wonderful father.
Yes, I certainly would, but how?
Why do you think people call me  GOD, my son?
I felt sheepish and said "sorry". After that I got ready for my journey, then I turned back like I was forgetting something then again I stopped and decided against it.
You can just ask what you just thought ?, Father said.
That's not fair, you can't read someone else's mind
I don't need to, I am everywhere and everything, from shapeless thoughts to solid mountains, from electrons to universes, his sound reverberated.
Ok then... I just want to ask what exactly is your name?...if you have any?  I shot back.
I am  "Allah" and he made it sound majestic.....divine.
I was taken back, WHAT? .....You are a Muslim?
God laughed and continued, were Jesus Christian? Were Buddha  Buddhist? Or.......should we say Mohammed a Muslim? I choose "Allah" simply  because of the elegance  and beauty of that language and the way Allah is pronounced in Arabic. Then he turned back hurriedly saying  its time  for him to go, giving no time for me to react. Before going  he said" And one more thing , you would be invisible . So don't get any ideas". His laugh filled the air.

Back to life
 
I looked at my house from a distance. I was a bit afraid...........don't know why? People were gathered in front of the house. The house was decorated , looks like a wedding party.  Wait,  is it my sister's wedding, I noticed the banner which was written my sister weds some name which I didn't bother to notice. But she was too  young for that, I thought.  Then I noticed some thing strange, our dog Tommy has grown big enough to scare a lion, who was just a puppy when I last saw him.  My sense of  time seems to be out of sync after death. How long has it been? Months, years?  I've always been bad at maths.
I stepped inside my home or was once my home. Everyone was in a celebrating mood. I couldn't find my parents or my sister.
I scanned the main hall, then I caught sight of them in a corner talking each other. My sister, she was all grown up and looked beautiful in her Kanchipuram silk saree along with jewelleries. I hurried towards them and tried to call my mom in vain. My sister, she was weeping like she was always . Since she was the younger one, her trump card against me was always been weeping. She always threatened me by saying "I will tell mother that you made me cry" and thus she reigned like a queen terrorising me, making my life impossible.
I screamed at her " Now what is it? Why the hell are you crying ? Its your marriage and you should be happy.
Her eyes were all blood shot because of crying. She was  sad and sober and her weak look made me feel guilty.
She was saying, "Mom... I.....I miss him, her words broken. If he was here... the entire wedding would have had a different atmosphere, our life wouldn't be so dull. God is so cruel, why he did this to us? I hate him for that. I wanted to discuss my wedding plans with him. I wanted him with me when I get marry. I troubled him a lot, I.......I  always enjoyed fighting with him. After all these  years I still feel like some part of me is missing, a big hollow space" she wept covering her face.
My heart felt heavy, I wanted to cry but I couldn't, no tears were coming. Death took tears away with my mortal body.  I didn't realise she was so attached to me. I wanted to tell her that I am here at your wedding, I see you, I hear you talking and I am sorry that I was a fool ignoring you all those time when I was here, alive.
I watched her getting married and waved her good bye when she left for her new life, with her better half.
I watched my friends having fun. They are all big boys now, some were even having big moustaches and French beards. I liked the fact that even though I am gone my friends attended my sister's wedding. They were helping my father with the decorations and other little things which should be taken care of in a wedding. Memories flooded me. I cherished the moments I spent with my friends. I thanked them.  A friend is a friend forever, they are the family we choose.
I felt very happy. I never felt like this before even when I was alive. I felt like talking to my mother.
I ran to my mother, she was no where to be found. I became restless, Mom, Mom, where are you , I screamed, forgetting that no one can hear me. Its not easy to get rid of your old habits, doesn't matter whether you are dead or alive.
I saw a faint light in my room. I wondered who would that be. I saw both father and mother sitting on sofa. Like all mothers she too was always busy doing some thing or other. I loved her very much. She is only one who showed the patience of  listening to  my nonsensical rants. In my entire life I never saw her this sad. Tears running down her cheeks. She looks old and week. Her eyes speaking for itself. I realised she was in pain. I couldn't look at her longer.
I sat beside father. He was changed. He doesn't have that angry, serious look on his face. His eyes were sunken.  I asked him, knowing that he couldn't hear me, how are you dad?  You can't be so fragile........... you were always tough. You need to shoulder mother........ console her.  She lost a son forever........ and now a daughter, who were off to have a new life of her own. You must be brave, Dad.
He looked to the side where I sat, like he heard me. He started saying, "I didn't understand him well, but I loved him very much and I do now. I can't bear the thought that he left me thinking I am a rude and bad father. I hope he forgive me for the decision I took for him."
I didn't understand what was he talking about, I stood and face him asking "What is it  Dad? What decision? What happened? Tell me, please .
I looked up and pleaded god for those lost memories. And in a flash of moment it all came back at me like a flood.
My ruthless driving of bike, yes that's what happened I hit a speeding truck, trying to avoid hitting an old man. I was in Intensive Care Unit, a little life cling on to me refusing to give in. Two days like that in unresponsive state. Third day doctors decided to shift me from ventilator facility, there is no more hope left. Before that the doctor asked my father a thing that most fathers wouldn't agree at that tensed moment.  He wanted my father to consider transferring of my heart to a child who is weak and nearing death because of the presence  two holes in his heart. My father stood there for a minute like a statue then called mother, told her  and said doctor that he should go on with the heart transferring procedure.
 I was proved wrong again. I always thought my dad was a rude personality, like one of those old people who doesn't want to involve or care anything other than their family and children. I felt really proud of him and ashamed of my inability to understand him.
I sat on my knees in front of my parents. The fire of guilt burning inside me, I didn't know what to do, I can't cry, I can't talk to anyone, I felt like I was going to die again and again. I wanted to tell them that they were always right it's me who were rude. It's me who couldn't understand you. My heart felt like a tonne , it felt like I was going to collapse under the weight of guilt.
I ran outside, not sure where to go. Then  suddenly I found myself sitting with my father.
He asked, "How was it? Everyone's fine there?"
I didn't answered that
He continued, "It's ok my son, people do make mistakes all the time. Bu the most important thing is that you realise it".
But I.....I deserve to go to hell for not even trying to understand my family. Foundation for all the nicest things one gets from one's own family, right?, I definitely deserve hell. I can't believe how lowly I thought of my father.
His father smiled, Just moments before you were there, in hell. It's just that you didn't realise.
I shot a look at him, I don't understand. You mean I went to hell, but I was with my family.
My son, you still believe in those children stories. You experienced the fire of hell when your heart burnt with guilt.
Why do you gave me this chance to go back and reconcile.
Everyone gets what they deserve and you deserved it. How do you feel right now?
I feel good, I feel calm, I find peace my father. Thank you for this. I closed my eyes.