Family Roots - The Origin of new Beginnings

 

My father was born into a big family - he had 3 brothers and 7 sisters - a veritable cricket team!  In addition, there were several first cousins, second cousins and cousins twice/thrice removed living along with them.  The house that my grandfather built was huge and was able to accommodate all the members of the household.

 

Every year, like a ritual, we would spend our summer vacation visiting my grandparents' place in Madras.  Every one of my father's siblings would also come down to the grand place and life was one big playground - cousins of all ages, each of us vying for attention, playing games, playing pranks.  It used to be two memorable months of non-stop playtime and fun. 

When I look back, I think of my grandparents and their home as a huge banyan tree with deeply laid roots that held and supported the entire family. Soon, with each of their children moving out to other cities and starting families of their own, it felt like part of the main root was transplanted into these different cities.

My parents set their roots in Bangalore. They laid the foundation, built a home and family, nourished and supported my brothers and me, nudged us in the right direction of career and family and soon each of us went away to different locations.

My parents lived in the same house for well over 40 years. Home for us was always my parents’ place. Home meant a place where we could be ourselves; where we could be seen, be loved and be cherished for the 'persons' we are with all our faults and blemishes; where our needs were always given priority, where tasty food was prepared lovingly after considering our likes, dislikes, and favourite dishes; a place where we could share our thoughts freely and not be judged, a place to literally put our feet up.   

 

As far as I was concerned, my home and roots now meant the roots that my parents had put down - firm, strong, stable, supportive, and ever-nurturing. Even with a home and family of my own, I continued to think of my parents' place as the one that had the roots planted firmly.

A few months back, my father passed away at the age of 88, having lived a long, fulfilling life - living independently, always calling the shots and always being in-charge.  Suddenly with his demise, it felt like the huge tree that had sheltered us all, had been completely uprooted as it came down  shattering to the ground.

 

With my father's death, I now no longer have a parents' home to go to. It was a safe place that I could run to anytime - sometimes to hide, sometimes to heal, sometimes to just be. It has not been easy, but I am slowly learning to overcome this huge feeling of loss and come to terms with my grief.  While trying to make sense of life and death,  I realise that a part of my father lives on with me. In all my thoughts and memories, he will always be there. In his passing away, he has passed the baton to us. He has passed on the roots taken from his parents and has handed it to all his children to be firmly planted at our respective homes.   I now carry forth those same roots, passed on from one generation to the next, to grow and nurture my family, to guide and shelter my children, to grow into a loving and giving tree that can sprout branches while keeping the values and roots of my forefathers alive.  

Note: Pictures and images have been sourced from the internet.

Living in the Now

----- Published in Women's Era, in the January I 2019 issue

Have you tried to get a reluctant child to exercise? And have you been successful?  If you have, then you certainly have great persuading skills!

Jokes apart, getting my 11-year old daughter to jog with me is a herculean task.  I have to coax her, encourage her, push her and sometimes pull her too.  On one such outing, after plenty of whining (from her end), we agree to alternate between walking and jogging every few metres.   During one such ‘walking time’, my daughter devises a game and tells me to close my eyes and walk, while she will hold my hand and guide me along.

Now, it is my turn to whine and throw excuses -  I am scared that I might fall down. I am moving away from my comfort zone and that is unsettling.   But my daughter is insistent and I finally give in.  I reluctantly take a few steps – my mind is totally out of synch, what with the organ of sight not providing it with the necessary images to navigate the way.  I hold my daughter’s hand tightly and instruct her to warn me if there is a pothole or an obstruction along the path.

I am not sure if I am walking straight.  I can feel my entire body swaying to the right.  That is when the thought hits me – with my eyes closed, I am able to feel every movement of my body.  Every time I raise my leg, I can feel every muscle moving.  I am now more aware of all the sounds around me – an approaching vehicle, a dog barking, sound of brooms sweeping, birds chirping. I am also able to feel every small change in the lay of the road – a slight dip, a small pebble, a sudden ascent. With the eyes closed, my other sensory organs seem to be more active and I am able to sense and perceive a lot more things around me. 

My daughter warns me that we next have to take a step down.  What would have been a normal step with open eyes, now seems to be a ‘big step’ with my eyes closed.  I move my foot expecting to touch the ground but it takes a few micro-seconds more before I actually place my foot on the ground.  Those extra micro-seconds seem more like a minute to me.

This simple game that my daughter devised drove home a few basic truths. 

1. I realised and understood the idea of being mindful, of being in the present, of enjoying and being aware of happenings in and around me.   In our fast-paced lives, in our urgency to reach from point A to point B, we forget to appreciate the path we travel by.   This simple game reiterated the fact that we need to slow down and stop to smell the roses.  We need to be aware and be sensitive to the happenings around us.

2. My initial reaction when she asked me to walk with eyes closed was an immediate ‘NO”.  I was not happy to do it.  Why?  Was it the fear of appearing foolish, the fear of falling down or just the fear of moving away from my comfort zone?  I guess children are more open to try new things.  We as adults, are hardened and do not see the beauty or the enjoyment one can derive from simple acts. 

Let the child in you play with your child

3. My daughter’s little game taught me to loosen up.  It gave me a chance to let out the child in me and enjoy the moment.  In fact, when I opened my eyes, I was all smiles and both of us had a good laugh.

4. And finally I realised these simple moments spent with my daughter would remain etched forever in my mind.  Children grow up all too fast and before we know it, they are leading their own lives.  So, I was happy to be enjoying the time with her and making pleasant memories.   

Next up on my daughter’s activity list is to ‘balance walk on the edge of the kerb’. Would you like to join?  Please do.

Picture Credit - the images used in this post are not mine.  They have been taken from the internet.