Of righteousness & resentment ...

The time of the call had already given me the message. Over the phone, my mother’s grief - stricken voice confirmed what I had already figured, “Daadu aar nei re …. (Grandpa is no more, son)”. For several moments, my entire sensibility was numbed. There was veritable poetic justice in how the end came.

 Throughout his life, daadu had personified and exemplified the concept of principled and dignified living. Hit by the cruelty of the Bengal partition, his family had been reduced from an affluent household to a struggling unit. As attempts were made to start living again, circumstances crowned daadu, still just a student, as the prime bread-earner of the family. He did not bat an eyelid. He joined the Indian army, and by the time he retired as a Subedaar Major (the seniormost rank for a non-commissioned officer in the army), he had seen action in WWII and in 1962 & 1965. The army had turned a resolute human into a lifelong fighter. All this while, he had been responsible for raising his 3 younger brothers and 1 younger sister, apart from running a huge joint family. Stretched by finances, he made every penny count but never let the household feel deprived in any way. He lived a Spartan, indeed a deprived life, but never evaded responsibility. As the army pension proved insufficient, daadu painstakingly learnt basic accounting studying Batliboi books all by himself, and got a job at a office at Fort William, Calcutta. Step by step, bit by bit, he moved forward in life and ensured his siblings received respectable education and started families of their own. Bolstered by the unquestioned support of his devoted wife, he worked hard to instill a framework of values, discipline and sensibilities into the household he was responsible for. The magnanimity of his character was a striking part of his existence. Throughout his life, he interacted with everybody around him with the same set of values. He cared for everybody's well-being and if anybody was erring in his actions and philosophy, according to him, he did not think twice before raising a flag. This attitude earned him numerous admirers but also earned him the wrath of people who thought they deserved biased behavior by dint of being his relatives, superiors and the like. As the household he had painstakingly built brick by brick started to disintegrate under pressure of self-centredness, narrow-mindedness and wanton greed, he did all he could to stem the rot. He even curbed his instinct to call a spade a spade and refrained from speaking his mind if that could avoid needless confrontations. He lived a life of dignity, discipline, courage and unwavering determination and never bowed before anybody, not even death. The man, who at 82 years of age could arm wrestle and decently built youth into submission, died a swift, almost painless death at the Army Command Hospital in Kolkata. He was known at the hospital not by name, but as the distinguished World War veteran and was given a treatment that moistened eyes not with pain but with pride. His loss was a blow I have never been able to tide over.

When I look up to his life and try to imbibe his values, I realize I am seriously incompetent in trying to follow in his footsteps. I have struggled to develop his magnanimity and maturity in handling adversities. I judge with my heart most of the times and that has landed me into trouble. My mind has been held to ransom on several occasions when I’ve encountered the darkness of human character – all the more painful when they are your near and dear ones. I have seen people sway in intoxicated materialistic stupor.  I have seen people operating with inexplicable double standards for personal gains. I have seen people ignore sentiments and feelings and get sold on unbridled showmanship. On the other end of the spectrum, I have also seen the restraint and maturity that has to be exhibited to manage the complex fabric of human relations. I have often given in to my short temper and, as a result, created even more complexities. We, maybe justifiably, rely too much on keeping our social fabric free of stains and strains, which we are taught is the true achievement of human endeavor. I saw daadu relentlessly strive to do that, and now see my parents doing the same. This has often meant reconciling to unacceptable conduct by relatives and seemingly unpardonable behavior by friends and others in society. I am seriously pained and aggrieved when I see this state of affairs, but somehow have been unable to break the shackles of deep-rooted convictions. I hope to develop the traits that people like daadu stand for and be a worthy individual. So, help me God ….