The Longest Day of My Life

November 30, 2015. Monday.

8:30, I woke up that morning to see everyone in my grandparents' room. Papa had called a doctor home to check Dada. Dadi had complained that He hadn't been eating properly since the last few days. I thought it was routined and I didn't stop to ask Dada if He was fine, I was in a rush to get to work, perhaps I lack expression.

11:11, I always happen to chance upon 11:11 and make a wish. The last weekend was too eventful and fun-filled and I didn't have a lot of work to catch up on Monday.That day I wished that I would wrap up work in time and spend the second half of the day with Dada, sit with Him and take Him to the park to take a stroll, he didn't like being enclosed. Old age had taken a toll on Him, for the last one year He had grown weaker. In that time He had also become fussy, He wasn't the same as He was 2 years ago. He kept Dadi busy all day long. I often used to worry about Him. Thoughts of Him gone would strike again and again and upset me. I often thought I should celebrate His birthday, gift Him some new clothes from what I earned, be with Him more. 

Though usually work hours aren't long at office but that day I thought I had enough time to go to the shoot. Shoots stretch for about 12 hours as opposed to regular 11am-7pm at office. But that was a exceptionally long shoot. We wrapped up around 10pm when usually the directors would call it a day by 8. Exceptionally yet again, the crew thanked each other for putting up, being good for the last two days at work. I couldn't really figure out why.

18:45, At supper a dog pet at studio came and sat in front of me sticking his tongue out, looking at me in the eye. I thought Sheru wanted to have my soup but I didn't offer him that because it was spicy. He kept sitting in front of me. I later brought some dry snacks and offered to him, but he rolled over it instead. For an animal that looked so hungry, I couldn't understand why would Sheru do that. I, who is dead scared of animals, brought some soup for him again but a colleague suggested he wouldn't take it. I decided to leave Sheru to his own. Or I'm not sure if Sheru left me.

21:40, A little before pack up I got a call from Mom. It was my younger brother on the other line telling me to come home, Dada had fainted twice.

22:15, In the car, the Chief Assistant Director vented out his frustration, how the new director was closed to his opinions and of others. Apparently it was because of her that there was a thanksgiving happening after the pack up. Putting up with her was an achievement. But my heart was stuck with Dada. I wanted to be home. I hated myself for not being home early as I had planned in the morning. 

22:30, Dada was on His bed, and everyone was around Him. Mom had put a bedding on the floor and Dadi was reading verses from the Geeta. Both my Buas (aunts, Papa's sisters) were taking turns in giving Dada amrit. Bua told me to call Dada. When I did He could not speak, but we knew He was hearing or so we thought. I kept calling Him, prayed he stayed some more, be with us until His next birthday at least. I asked Him to call for Ram. But He wasn't with us, His eyes didn't move. I held His hand but He couldn't feel. I wanted Him to get up and sit at once, but all he could do then was breathe. He was breathing from His mouth, long and deep. Buas noticed Him fixated at a black bee humming in the room, its noise was loud. That's where He was. 

1:45, He breathed His last, the black bee was gone. My sister, Bua and Mom put Dada on the floor, we thumped His chest, hoping He'd be back. But He stiffened, became heavier. Dada didn't move after that. He left his body from his mouth, His ears weren't stiff, He grew colder and blue. 

I knew then what Sheru wanted to say.

After Dada was gone, elders told me to read the Eighteenth Chapter of Geeta for Dada. I was glad I could. I also put bhajans, knowing Dada's love for music, he used to listen to songs before going to sleep on His transistor when He had it. Dada had a poet in him, I remember him asking me for a pen every now and then when he wanted to pen down a couplet, all for Krsna, he had in his mind.

12:00, I saw His body being put to the holy fire next morning. I was happy for Dada,His soul found solace in Krsna's. He didn't suffer like many others do, He didn't bother anyone. He was neither ill nor diseased. At 86, He wasn't taking any medicines. 

He was a knowledgeable man, bent towards the Lord. I often told my friends I saw in Him the image of God. Loving and caring, I remember Him carrying me around on His shoulders when I was young. Dada often mispronounced my name, I would tell others if my own Dada can't pronounce Kriti I wouldn't mind if they too couldn't. He loved taking our pictures, Dada was a photographer. He told me stories most nights when I would sleep with Dada-Dadi. I remember for the first time when I was given a 'Very good' in Math, it was Dada who had helped me solve the sums. He was the one who told me to put aloe vera when I got pimples. When my parents scolded me, Dada chided them away. But I didn't do anything for Him. I didn't know He hadn't been eating for the last 7-8 days properly. I didn't know He had bruises. I feel regretful for not listening to Him when He called, for never stopping to ask if He was fine, for never going to his room and sitting beside Him. I will forever be stuck with the guilt that I didn't do for Him enough.

I am very happy for Dada though that He lived a good life and went peacefully to His destination. Not having Him around is our loss, irreparable and heaviest ever incurred.

Dada will forever stay with me in my heart, I know His blessings will take me places. If there will be any fortune I will ever incur, it will be because of His blessings from above. His life is an example for us, a lesson we've learnt.  

Lal Chand Mehta
20.04.1929 - 30.11.2015

Rest in peace Dada. 

I never told you that you were the most dear to me, that I love you more than anyone else. I miss you... Your memories will forever be etched in my heart.

Yours
Kirti