A Knock !

The world is making rapid  strides in  the field of  science and  technology. At the same time, there is large scale confusion and conflict prevailing for  the teeming millions. The most palpable manifestion of the problem is both at the material and  pscycological level. Next come all  the health concerns.

On  whatever ground the issue may  arise,  if a man learns to witness it as a third  person by not attaching to it, he remains happier and at peace with himself.

And that is what I am trying to do nowadays.
My mind constantly keeps  brooding over the past or thinking about the future.
 I seldom experience a "no thought  flow" state. Let me explain this with an instance.
 When I went to my native home couple of  months back I saw the portrait of  my mother that was kept  on  the loft. I stood there by for some time reading the lines written below by  my dad.

"Memories of the ones we have loved
still cast their gentle glow!,
To grace our days and light our paths
 Where ever we  may go !"

I  recalled in a flash the big bundle of past memories that were filled with the turmoils my  father had  to undergo long years back, when she was hospitalised for a dysentery and weakness, injected with a Hepatitis -B out of negligence, to cover up the blunder blood  transfusion was given, with a mismatching RH- Factor!.

The sudden extreme scream combined with fits after few minutes of the transfusion rented  the air at the hopsital !!

My father rushed to the chief doctor to save his wife, knowing not that the borrowed times of  his beloved were almost getting over by the next  day.
The sad day beckoned with all the relatives gathering around  her,  but only I was taken closer. For some minutes the sickly twenty-three year old young lady did not speak, tears alone kept  rubbing  her soft cheeks. She heard an assurance from her sister who was just sixteen and to whom I owe gratitude in  abundance.

"Don't  worry dear, you will be alright, I will take care of the baby."

The doctors were busy  preparing  a  new case history falsely  reporting  the pile pigments to be positive with a  fatal jaundice.  They threatened my father saying the body will not be handed over for rituals in case my father would ever try to sue. My father said ,"I don't need a court anymore, to punish you. Its  too late,"
He demanded the original  reports and got them.

The very next morning when my father went to collect the sacred  ashes,
he  heard from  the guard ,"  what  happend  to  that woman  sir,? Did she drink any poison?" on  finding  the bones blue.

My faher said," She did not drink poison, but the medicines were.!" and walked away broken hearted.
While I was gazing  at the portrait with the tear -filled eyes, the  smothering of my spongy pet brought me to the  present. I shrugged  off all those thoughts and started playing with  the pet.

I do not miss her in my life at all and have never have felt am mother less. I saw her as a living being - whose life was taken away by the deadly doctors.

How much that body would have suffered due to pain, and fever? What all the small  heart would have felt at those tumultuous moments? It was a medical  murder and I am sad even now of what happened then.

The tragedy ended there,  but I still carry forward its impact in my thoughts. I feel I need to work to get over this.I should learn to witness the uneasiness as a third person , like letting the silts float in the water and  not trying to attach myself  to them and capture.

Two things I notice now. No emotion stays with me for twenty -  four  hours. And it is typical nature of the mind to brood over  some past or think about future,without  experincing anything  in  full. Silently chuckling at this monkey nature of my mind, I just chanced upon these lines of an anonymous poet

"A tiny pebble idoly tossed
Into  the placid stream.
With a  gentle splash  it  sinks  from sight
And  never again  is seen - but outward
From  the gentle splash a  spreading impulse tends......
Who knows on  what  distant shore the
Spreading inpulse  ends..."

Nothing is certain except for change and everything is pre-determined. To make me realize the power of  this truth, those memories  knocked at me .

Knowing I shall filter any unwanted mail,  or report as spam if  I don't want it, they cleverly choose to be postmen  always, trying to convey some information.

Unless I lovingly welcome them, they keep knocking. :)

I happily relish this  truth.