On dealing with loss

Not many people know that I am an orphan … in the classic sense of the word.  My father died more than a decade ago, and my mother about four years ago.  But that was to be expected, considering that I am in my fifties.

The death that shook the foundations of my being was the death of my brother.  I was 22 and he was 21.

People thought we were twins, since we were very close and always completing each other’s sentences.  We had a bond that was very strong, and we had a sibling war happening every minute of the day - even after I was married and lived away.

At first I felt rage.  Uncontrollable rage, because I felt he betrayed me by dying.  Wasn’t it our unspoken pact to be there for each other?  Why did he have to be a jackass and die on me?  I know its not rational – heck I even knew it then … but the emotion was there nevertheless.  Then came the agony, the pain, the suffering, the tears that could not be stemmed.

I did a lot of things to cope.

But with time the pain left.  There is a God up somewhere, I firmly believe that.  He is indifferent to the suffering humanity in his own way.  Not a sadist, but not a mother clucking over us and trying to shelter us from whatever pain and suffering we face.  Supremely indifferent to our tears, he nevertheless gives us the strength to carry on and the power to heal us.

With me what happened was that the pain became the balm.

Not a day goes by without remembering Dony.  When I see siblings fight, tease each other or hug each other, I am reminded of Dony.  My sons remind me of him, the way they wrestle, pillow fight and tease each other.

But I remember him with a smile.  He was not perfect, he was quite a pain in the butt.  But he was my brother, my companion, my partner in countless pranks.  No memory of my childhood is complete without him.

I wrote my first book, A Bowlful of Butterflies, as a celebration of the bond between siblings.

It is my tribute to brothers and sisters around the world.  It is my humble effort to relive and translate into words the bond I shared with my brother, the bond I carry in my heart and mind forever.

Seeing the book in print brought tears to my eyes, but with a smile.

Live on Dony and yes, if you tear any page of my book, I will hunt you  to the end of the universe, find you, and kick you in the ass!

 

Parents raise you, the spouse lives with you, but it is siblings who really shape you as a person

 

 

Weekend crazy language

My children often complain that I am childish.  I always counter that I am child-like not childish.  I have innocence and simplicity and ……. GAAH I give up !  That sounds over sweet, which I most definitely am NOT!!!

Well, like they say, Growing old is mandatory, growing up is not!  Grown ups do not have any sense of fun, which makes life stressed, full of broken dreams, angst, bills and all the other curses of life on earth.  Tell ya Outer Space is much better.

Seems like none of us siblings grew up – ever.  When we get together, spouses get disgusted, children embarassed – and they try to ignore us – which is so difficult considering the loud guffaws and even louder repartee from our side of the living room!  Poor things, but not our fault!

Yeah some of us got together for a sibling pow wow.  As is the norm with us, sense and maturity flew out of the window and silliness prevailed.  Simply wunnerful

A few drinks down the line, the conversation got stuck on money. Now this can normally be a weep-fest or a whine whine kind of time.   It did start like that

COUSIN 1 : You know college kids are a pain in the butt!  Education, car, clothes, bills ……

COUSIN 2 : (Man after my heart!) Bill is a four letter word.  I love Uma Thurman because she did KILL BILL

ME : Hmmm, well she looked hot doing it too, almost made me Bi …..

COUSIN 1 : Pity “Money” is not a four letter word!

Me : Cash is …….

COUSIN 2 : ( I think booze had hit him by then) So is undy

We exchanged happy grins, since it reminded us of a game we used to play “Substitution” where we replaced one word with another for a day.  Used to drive the parents nuts, imagine calling a pencil “baingan bharta” for one whole day.

ME :  Apna Sapna Undy Undy

COUSIN 1 : Undy hai toh honey hai

COUSIN 2: For a Few Undies More

Me : Boo!  That was dollars not money!

Both cousins : Hey we can subsitute all Rupee Dollar Yen and such like with all undy type words!

Me (sensing a huge opportunity here) Put your undy where your mouth is!

Silence as they digested this one and acknowledged a winner!  I mean I am QUEEN of language aint I???? Smirk Smirk

Both looked at each other and grouped up against me! Dammit they always do that!  Been doing that for more than 40 years!

Both consulting with each other and saying : Sabsey bada UNDY!!!!!

The whole family, some 16 of them gathered around to check out what us old farts were up to …..  Bets were placed in the true tradition of the famiglia and sides taken …

The hourglass was set solemnly between the two warring parties, Them both together, me on my ownsome, drinks replenished  …….. rules set, every underwear synonym could be used and every money synonym too …

Me : Kaccha is the root of all evil

They : Kaccha talks

Me : Undy makes undy

OMG it went on and on!  I never knew money could be so much fun.  We keep getting so serious about the damn thing, mourning about the lack of it, grabbing at it, fighting for it!  Why not play?  Money really ought to be fun ….

We were getting drunk and sillier by the minute …..

Me : Chaddi is Power!  Long live the pink chaddi!!!

Them : Kaccha cant buy happiness, for that buy viagra !!!

Me : OMG! I am sooooo gonna blog about this!

Them : Yeah, like they say Jocks talks

Me : Yes it does!  But I’ll try to keep it “Brief”

People, I was declared the winner and got to eat the last dahi bhalla on the table!  

YAYYYYY