A caring Heart

The wedding preparations were in full swing. Kaaki was cheerful and perpetually had a beaming smile on her face. She was a proud mother with her two fair ,tall ,fine-looking sons who were well settled.  Her would be daughter in law belonged to a wealthy family at Mahim in Mumbai where most of the affluent Gujaratis resided. It was prestigious when a family owned an accommodation in central Mumbai or near about for those mumbaikars who reside in western suburbs. Mrs Patel was addressed Kaaki despite the fact that she wasn’t many years older than us as she got married at the age of eighteen and was blessed with two sons before her twentieth birthday and her life revolved around her family. She entered the family as a young bride to take care of her husband and father in law as this was an elucidation provided by nature when the lady of the house was no more. Kaaki treasured serving people and executed her house hold chores with utmost sincerity. Her evenings were spent meeting in the open expanse of the flat were most of the ladies gathered. The younger ladies lingered for their husbands and the older ones hung on for their sons and daughters. There were many who would bring their little children to amuse themselves. Kaaki always had a recipe to share or a household remedy for a common ailment which every one of us loved to know. Her elder son Madhav was employed in a multinational and his fiancee was a petite attractive girl working as a fashion designer. I remember the time he brought the pretty girl home when she was a cynosure of every one’s eyes.The wedding was fixed after Diwali during the auspicious  wedding period. One of the reasons for arranging the wedding  early  at an young age was that, of late Madhav’s grandpa was not keeping well. Just a week before the wedding he developed a stomach infection and had to be hospitalised. He recovered enthusiastically within three days and was brought back home. Now there was nothing to dissuade the spirit. There was a ritual of  smearing turmeric paste on the boy and and tying an amulet so that the on coming rituals were not impeded in any unforeseen circumstances. Relatives had assembled and there was fun and frolic. Mothers were eventful in arranging things for the rituals and ceremonies while  fathers and cousins  had gathered down and  had begun bursting crackers. First it was string of  bombs and then they got in to the  doldrums. There were flower pots burnt but each one waited for their turn to burst a laxmi bomb or a hydrogen bomb. In the stillness of the night we could perceive loud sounds for a protracted time. Every one of us was disturbed but didn't  have the inclination to communicate our exasperation. At around 11.30 pm there was silence and we all went to slumber only to be woken by loud howls and laments . The heart rendering cries dragged everyone to Madhav’s home. His grand father was still and lifeless. He was quickly taken to the hospital only to be declared dead due to a massive heart attack. The last rites were performed the same night .As the wedding couldn't be deterred, Madhav left for his marriage with his  brother and got married. It was deplorable. I was reminded of this happening because of the callousness of the young who derive pleasure in loud boomeranging sounds accompanied by clouds of smoke which are harmful to the asthmatic , the old and ailing. Lets foster empathy , an indomitable spirit and a deep concern to conquer desires which confer pleasure for self but destroys others peace , harmony above all subsistence of life.