Departures...!

“Every time I lose someone close to me or someone dear to me leaves, I feel a bit of myself dying within me”

Afew years back I was in Spain for little over a month, learning Spanish. At times I spent my evenings with seniors, in an infirmary, with people, who were at the evening of their lives. That evening as I was practicing Spanish with one of the elderly Spaniard, we heard that person from the other room had just left to his eternal abode. I just stopped my practice as I knew that this Spaniard deserved his time to mourn. Before I could leave the room, he just whispered, “every time I lose someone close to me or someone dear to me leaves, I feel a bit of myself dying within me”. Those words took time to sink in and a few years later I understand them slightly better.

At times I think of people in their late 70’s or 80’s. What goes on with them as each passing day they keep losing someone or the other whom they know or who was once part of their life? May be they see the world they once lived in, keeps vanishing before their eyes. 

Over the years I have moved around to several places, met people of various backgrounds and cultures. One thing though I have realized, that profound human relations are not restricted by ethnicities and cultural barriers. Deeper, lasting relations are often spontaneous. At times with some people you just know, you can get along without much hustle and you feel that even without much saying, the other can understand you. Of course with some others, it works the other way! Some people bring much affection and give you a sense of belonging and accompaniment and some others reveal you of your limitations, sharp edges that you still need to polish. Sooner or later, many go their way, a few, very few leave a lasting mark even after their departure. Meeting and parting is a beautiful dynamic of life, through which we as humans grow towards wholeness. Human life is like a flowing water, ever dynamic. 

 At times I have sat alone in a corner, trying to understand the mystery called departure. Is there a way one can really make sense when one’s friends move away or the dear one departs due to a sudden illness? One evening as I was feeling low, as it was time that two of my good friends and I said, good bye, and moved on with life, I came across a beautiful talk from Dr Gururaj Karajagi. In his speech he narrates a beautiful story from the life of a Sufi Saint, Rabia, from 6th century.

Rabia had two children, boys, identical twins; handsome, well behaved and much loved by all. Children grew up. They were 18. Her husband was in the farm, working. The boys were on their way to the farm to help their father. As it started raining, they took shelter under a tree. The rain got heavier and there was thunder and lightning. Their fate, thunder struck the tree, under which they stood and both young men died then and there. Those who saw it, brought the lifeless bodies to their mother. Imagine a mother, whose two grown up children lay lifeless before her! The people who brought the bodies had no words. To their surprise, she requested them to keep the lifeless bodies of her sons, in a room inside. Soon she closed the doors of the room and said to them, “it is time for my husband to return home for lunch, kindly you all go home”. She then cooked for her husband. She welcomed him back and arranged for his lunch. As the husband finished his lunch, she sat beside him and said, “ I have never hidden anything from you. But somehow one thing slipped my mind. I could not tell you.” Her husband, surprised, asked her, “ What is that?” “Many years ago a Mahatma, a godly man visited our house, on his pilgrim way.” In those days it was not sure if the pilgrim would return from the pilgrimage, given to the bandits and robbers on the way. “He told me, that he had two precious jewels with him, which were not safe to take along with him. He asked me if I could keep them with me? He also said that he would take them on his way back.” Rabia continued, “ I said, yes, and received them. He went on his way. Days, months, years passed by, but he did not return. I opened the opened the box and I saw the two beautiful jewels, which he had spoken about. I started wearing them. As he did not returns for many years, I began to believe that these jewels were my own, they belong to me alone. I became possessive of them. I liked them and loved them.” Her voice slowed down as she continued, “This morning, Mahatma, the real owner of these jewels, came by and requested for the jewels. Since I had them for years, as I was posessive of them and believed that they are mine, I was not willing to give them away, all of a sudden. I said, ‘I shall talk to my husband and give them in the evening.’” She then asked her husband, “he would come in the evening. What should I do? Should I give them away?” The husband replied, “Should you even ask this question? Give it. They do not belong to us. They belong to him. You should have in fact already given it to him with smile, as he had given it to you with trust.” Tears dropping down her eyes, Rabia replied, “Come, let us give them together”, as she took her husband by hand and opened the doors of the room…the story continues. 

Often in life, we get attached to things and people forgetting that we do not really own them. It is important to understand that we are given these people, these things for a while .When the master giver asks them back, it is important to return them with a smile. We are not the masters, we are the caretakers. It is better to be thankful and happy over what or who we had in our life, even if they are not there anymore or have moved on, than being sad over losing them or not havng them anymore. 

 We are pilgrims on this earth. We neither bring anything along, nor do we carry anything on our way back. Every person, every little thing in life is a gift. Departures need not always be a sad. They can well be a beautiful memories for what they brought into our lives and what they made us with their presence.