India has made tremendous progress in the past three decades or so, of that there is no doubt in my mind. But there is a story that our previous generation has to tell. Every elder in the household has a favorite story of their own. Be it of going kilometers to attend to the school on foot (sometimes often crossing the river swimming or something akin) or taking their wares and go selling house to house to earn before they were able to set up a proper business or studying under lamp posts. These stories are told again and again in every household with added emphasis on “In our times/
when I was your age or you should be thankful”. Today I am sharing with you one such story and how it shaped not only the destiny but also perspective on life of a man. Though the story is ordinary,but the takeaway which I derived from it is huge in my opinion. What you guys think of it is your perspective.
Me and Mr.K were sitting in our usual joint one fine evening having a cup of tea. We were by ourselves as our usual coterie didn’t turn up. Our conversation veered from one topic to another. ‘What is the one thing that your Pop said that influenced you the most?’ Asked Mr.K all of a sudden. Me and Mr.K share a common bond in that we both lost our fathers at identical stages in our life and under similar circumstances. Having lived with both my grandparents and parents I can surely tell a story or two, but today I am going to tell you what Mr.K shared with me. Following is the narrative of Mr.K.
It was March of 2018. After a long time, I was posted near home. So, on a fine Sunday afternoon, I was sitting in the verandah with my then two-year-old daughter playing with my father who seemed much bemused by her antics. Father was diagnosed with leukemia a few years ago which had returned some time back after a brief period of remission and was getting worse symptomatically despite monthly chemotherapy. He always knew the outcome but never made any fuss about it. I think we were more afraid than he was. With all that in the back of my mind, I was particularly peeved that day. I don’t even remember what it was about. Maybe I was generally frustrated by everything and was whining a lot. It was then that my father put my daughter down from his lap, turned towards me and narrated an incident from his life, and then told me something in his own matter of fact manner that I will never forget.
Although he had narrated this incident a couple of times earlier, it was at that perfect moment and what he followed it up with, that made both the perfect sense of it and left a lasting impact. The incidence went like this: Much of the state of Himachal Pradesh as it is of now, was a part of Punjab. My father had done his pre-medical from Punjab University and wanted to be a doctor. So as was the norm those days he applied for a seat, at the newly opened Govt. Medical College Shimla ( now IGMC). The second batch was to be admitted. As he had decent marks he was confident of getting admission. He forgot to follow it up. A few days later, as chance would have it, my Grandpa and his younger brother had to go to Shimla because of a separate work-related matter. Now in those days travel wasn’t easy. Though there was a bus, it took about a full day and the journey jolted every bone in your body. Anyhow they decided to go. The next day after finishing their work, they perchance went to the admissions office casually and checked upon the status of the application of father. It was the last day of receipt of applications. As they inquired about Dad’s application they were shocked to know from the clerk that the application wasn’t there. A senior superintendent at the office overheard them. He came over and rummaged through the dustbin and came out with the application. The application was discarded as it didn’t have a Re 1 stamp affixed. He told them that the boy stood a good chance of making it into the merit as he had a good score. Somehow my grandfather rushed, got the stamp, and resubmitted the application. This incident was told to my father much later. He got his admission and became a doctor who served his state.
” Though that was then and it is now, it’s my life in a continuum. I am contended and have no regrets. I am happy for all the things in my life. You go on and live your own life”. He told me. Two months later he passed on.
Slowly it began to make sense. It may appear pretty mundane and repetitive to you in this era of Life coaches and the internet Gyan, many of you must have much more interesting stories to tell, but to me, it was most extraordinary. To weigh all the good and bad in your life on a balance of scales objectively, to believe that you have raised a decent progeny who is capable on his own two feet, to know that your family is provided for and no debts are being left behind, to be happy in what is rather than fret what isn’t or what-ifs, to be at peace with yourself and those around you at the end and being able to say, as, a matter of fact, That I have no regrets, that certainly is life, both well-lived and worth striving for.
drkck
Disclaimer: The author just narrates his own reflections. He doesn't claim to be a life coach and respects the view that everyone has and is entitled to his/her own personal opinions.
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