Too many deaths

There has been too many deaths these last months of people who I was close to -- it began with Neelda's going last October. Then  Nilmoni Phukan khura in January, followed by Srutimala Duara, and Deepika Phukan in February and March... among many others...Some were sick and ailing, some were old and frail, but still...

Why is it so hard to say goodbye?

First went Neelda. Neelpawan Barua. It broke my heart. For you could not help loving Neelda, for who he was, for what he had been, and for all that he had given to so many of us. I would visit him whenever I came home from Germany. Without fail, each time Neelda would ask after all of us but also after the old man named Herr Eisenhower who delivered the newspaper in our home in Volkach every morning. Was he still riding his bicycle? How did he manage to carry everything on his bicycle? What did he do when it rained? or snowed? Neelda had never met him, but it was just like Neelda to care for everyone, and wonder about them.  But Dipali Baideo's going took Neelda as well.  For in the absence of her to take care of, he got unraveled. There was no need for him to keep himself going anymore. 

The last months Neelda would just sit there and smile blankly at whoever came; Neelda no longer knew who he was, or who anyone else was, except for his brother and Jonali, his household help and caregiver of many years; one day he asked me by way of making conversation 'tumar ghorot aaru kun kun aase?' [Who else is there in your family?] I told me that I had no one except him. He looked earnest, 'Eh, hoi neki, konowei nai mor bahire? Tetiyahole ishworok koba mok bhale rakhiboloi [What, you have no one else apart from me? Then tell our dear God to take good care of me.] Every time I have gone to visit Neelda I have come away crying... and then one day he left us... that day I told myself that I should not cry because death was release for Neelda. But it hurt, and kept hurting... for long.

I was supposed to leave on a month long trip of Karnataka with Hema a few days later. I told myself that Neelda was gone and that I should not change plans. Perhaps the journey away could even help me heal.

I carried the heaviness within me. One day, after getting back, I went to visit the ailing Nilmoni Phukan khura; he knew he was going... he sang a Bihu song for me, he told me with great pride about his granddaughter who was doing a Ph.D. in Mathematics from Finland;  'sit here with me for a while, don't be impatient about leaving, for this could be our last meeting', he said to me that day. And he was right. That was our last meeting. And as the spectacle of public outpouring of grief unfolded in the hours and days after his death, I could only take refuge in his poems, in reminding myself of that deep sonorous voice that knew best how to recite his lines... 

Both Neelda and Nilmoni Phukan khura have left us with their work through which we must learn to find them again...and if we can do that then they will not leave us any more... 

Gradually the wounds were beginning to heal... then many other deaths came along, each time such news came, it struck yet another blow...till one could not cope any more... About Sruti and Deepika Baideo in another blog...