Out came a thought and then another...

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July 2005:

"Hello L******. Have you settled down in your new home?" Hers was one of the first phone calls I received after we moved into a new place last July.

"Hi! We are still unpacking P'ma. You will really like this place when you see it."

"I will visit you once you have settled down. I am sorry I could not send you lunch on the day you were shifting. I really wanted to but nowadays I am not even able to promise any little thing."

"No problem P'ma. There is a nice restaurant just across the road. Hot idlis, dosai, and good South Indian meals too. We are eating well. How are you feeling now P'ma?"

"Hmm...I am okay. Tell me something about your house L******."

"Okay! You know what I really like about this house P'ma? It is the Flame of the Forest tree just outside the main balcony. It is so lovely. I thought of you immediately. Remember all our conversations about trees P'ma? You will really like this place."

"Oh that is nice. In fact, hmm...in fact I am painting a picture of the tree outside my window. It is also the Flame of the Forest. Hmm...I am not following the exact details but I am painting my view of that tree."

"Wow! What a coincidence! P'ma, why don't you come and stay with us for a few days? You can paint this tree outside my balcony. It is just touching distance away and you can get its details too."

"Okay. We shall see how things go. Bye."

"Bye P'ma."

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She never managed to visit us. Life ate away her body meanwhile, organ by organ crumbled as primaries became secondaries. Metastasis. Through it all, she remained who she always was - a genuine human being; warm, nice, caring, self-effacing. She smiled away her pain and transactionalized our sympathy.

Do I miss her? I see her everyday in that tree outside my balcony. I think of her and of our conversations. We never spoke about events or about people. We spoke about trees and books and the simple joys of life.

Did I know her well? How well can you know anyone anyway? I liked her and I think she liked me too. While she lay dying in the next room, I discovered that she made wonderful figurines from soap cakes. I saw such beauty chiseled from the humble soap cake that it moved me greatly. It was easy to see that she was a woman of high principles and simple goodness. That was enough for me.

Why am I writing this? No, not in memoriam or some such thing. I just thought of her now and it struck me that my life would be well-lived if I could aspire to her level of goodness. I'll try for sure. I have the Flame of the Forest to remind me every single day.

^P'ma stands for 'Periyamma', the Tamil word for 'elder aunt'

Posted by Echo/Lavanya on Thursday, March 02, 2006 at 4:23 PM | Permalink