Home Alone on Friday

It was a Friday unlike any I can remember.

 I left home in the morning to attend the oncology tumor board weekly meeting. It was a pleasant walk. There was actually sunshine for most part of the 20 minutes from home to DMH. I had been seeing the temple inside the DMH campus ever since I have come here. But only from across the road. Today I was early and there wasn’t much crowd. I crossed the road and stood in front of the temple. The steps were wet and so was the front porch. A good sized black idol of Ganapati was visible clearly from where I stood. I decided to take darshan from there and paid my respects mentally, seeking forgiveness for not taking off my shoes. 

When I reached the auditorium in the specialty building there was only one person in the room. Few minutes later another person walked in. As I sat by myself in the corner on the last row of chairs the administrator came in to tell me there is breakfast served in the next room. I followed her there. A kitchen staff member served me dalia upma and coconut chutney.  I pulled up a chair and joined the only other person in the room. We introduced ourselves. She was a radiation oncologist at DMH , Dr Sonali Pimplay. She told me she was an alumni of JJ Mumbai and did her residency at Tata Memorial Hospital. We exchanged views about the current situation with oncology etc. Soon another Dr came in for breakfast, probably her colleague. As they caught up I fetched some coffee and sipped it slowly while gazing out of the window. The fourteenth floor offered some exclusive views of the city and the distant mountains surrounding the urban landscape. The cover of monsoon clouds felt comforting somehow. I tried to orient myself to the streets below and tried to locate my home from that distance. By then my coffee was done. The two people were still engrossed in talking so I just waved to Dr Pimplay and returned to the auditorium. A few minutes later the presentation began. They talked about epithelial ovarian cancers, role for surgery, neoadjuvant and adjuvant chemotherapy etc and later presented some tumor board cases. I wasn’t required to attend this as it was outside of my scope of expertise but I had come just so I get some passive diffusion of knowledge instead of staying idle at home. 

It was just past 10 am when the meeting concluded. Most people in the room proceeded for the breakfast in the adjoining room. I headed for the elevators. Once outside, I decided to walk back home. Fortunately, though the sky was overcast, it wasn’t raining. I called Swapna, the newly recruited counselor who works with me. She had arrived at the hospital. I told her I was heading home and requested her to give me a call if we get any patient referral. 

A few phone calls, some messages from friends and responses on my posts kept me occupied. Around noon I warmed the bharli vangi and jowar bhakri I had picked the evening before. Took a side of home made dahi and enjoyed my quiet lunch. 

Just then the technician from LG called to ask if my new refrigerator was delivered and if he could stop by for the demo. He showed up in less than an hour and was done in about 15 minutes. 

I wondered if I should go out shopping at Laxmi Road ? Watch a movie or natak ? See if any friends are available to go out? I dreaded the thought of Friday evening traffic. None of the options seemed desirable. I pulled out a YouTube video on my phone dedicated to a posthumous tribute to Lata Didi. Dr Dhananjay Kelkar, the medical director at DMH, my current boss, was facilitating that event held in Pune last year, less than 2 months after Lata Didi passed away. Many distinguished dignitaries spoke on stage. But the most impact for me was from what Lata Didi’s siblings spoke. Asha tai’s speech made me cry. The loss was recent at that time and her feelings and memories that she shared were so raw and straight from the heart. I could feel her loss and the hardships they went through in their childhood after the untimely demise of their father. 

Panditji ( Hridaynath Mangeshkar) appeared frail and barely could walk to the podium using a cane. But his emotions were even more fragile than his physical health. He spoke barely 2-3 sentences but they were so poignant. They hit me hard.

“ I have read and studied the various writings of Dnyaaneshwar mauli, his veerani, abhanga, etc, composed many songs from these. But I could not understand Mauli. 

Similarly I lived my entire life with Lata Didi. Yet I could not understand her. I will now make an attempt to understand her.”

His words went straight to my heart. They were haunting and will probably do so for a long time. This man who I have always admired, respected and looked at with awe for his deep study, understanding and work on sant vagmay ( saint literature), now in his eighties was confessing that he failed to understand Dnyaaneshwar! 

I looked inside myself. Here I busy myself reading, writing, while concomitantly trying to understand the deeper meaning in Dnyaaneshwar’s work as well as that of his contemporaries. But it doesn’t mean anything. I am just toying with it. It is not penetrating me. 

I cannot express the hollow I felt at that moment. 

I didn’t want to continue this toying anymore. I want the real thing! I want Vitthala. I don’t want to just read about Him, think about Him and write about Him! I have no use of any transient wisdom that comes from this whole exercise. 

The evening was a rare opportunity to be alone. No social engagements. No distraction of work or TV. I  could see the mind was restless to do something. But I didn’t want it to get distracted by anything. Not even to take cover of reading another poem by a saint and start penning thoughts about it. It was just another diversion from what my soul really wanted. 

How long would I be finding comfort in doing this? That comfort is a distraction from the real thing! My work is a distraction from Vitthala. So is my family and friends. I cried. On one hand if I pay full attention to Vitthala I still can’t get him. If I turn away from Him I realize what my mind can do……try and find things where it can find solace. And in that latter situation I start to find a million faults with my own mind! I am miserable either way.

And no I am not depressed. I am sure of that.  And I am not lonely in the usual sense of the word. Quite the contrary. I am glad I am alone because it is allowing me to look into the mirror of my mind. It is allowing me to realize what my heart longs for. And brings the awareness of what I seem to lose sight of when I have things at hand. 

I have never recalled such suffering before. But I would buy the suffering any day over any mental peace or pleasure I can find elsewhere, even from reading and trying to understand the writings of the saints. Even if they write about Vitthala. I want the real thing !! 

I know the mind is a businessman. Also a thief, a cheat and a liar. It flaunts itself in front of the world posing as someone with a lot of virtues. It floats in the praises that are showered by the people it fools. I alone know what it really is. Khotaa sikkaa!!  Fake !! It will find comfort somewhere somehow and make me forgetful of what I really want and need. In a short span of time this evening it has made several attempts to reach out to means of comfort…..food, people, phone, reading, writing. Every time I have stared at it and made it come back. But this can’t go on for long. It will put me back in a state of hypnosis. And probably at the end of the long journey I may stand penniless and alone without finding my father and mother, my savior, my soul mate. If the Vedas lament Neti Neti, how will I find Vitthala? 

तुझे क्या बीती हुई रातों से
मुझे क्या खोई हुई बातों से
सेज नहीं, चिता सही जो भी मिले सोना होगा ओ
गई जो डोरी छूटी हाथों से
हो लेना क्या छूटे हुए साथों से
खुशी जहाँ माँगी तूने वहीं मुझे रोना होगा
ना कोई तेरा, ना कोई मेरा
फिर किसकी याद आयी
ओ किसका रस्ता देखे ऐ दिल, ऐ सौदाई
मीलों है ख़ामोशी, बरसों है तनहाई
भूली दुनिया कभी की, तुझे भी, मुझे भी
फिर क्यों आँख भर आई
हो किसका रस्ता देखे ऐ दिल, ऐ सौदाई
किसका रस्ता देखे ऐ दिल, ऐ सौदाई
मीलों है ख़ामोशी, बरसों है तनहाई
भूली दुनिया कभी की, तुझे भी, मुझे भी
फिर क्यों आँख भर आई
ओ किसका रस्ता देखे ऐ दिल, ऐ सौदाई

These lines suddenly took on a whole new meaning for me today.

It’s a Friday like never before.