a solemn but peaceful morning...

Just crossed Surendranagar, in air-conditioned comfort, on my way to Rajkot, the magical place where I was born. And so was my sister, who later discovered her Knight in Shining Armour in this very city and they continue to live happily since then.

Sadly, the Knight is grieving for the moment. He has lost his beloved father two mornings ago and I am on my way to be with him in his moment of grief. I honestly wanted to be with him on the very same day the tragedy befell on him. But destiny somehow always manages to have other plans. Sometimes I fight back, sometimes I simply can't. This was one of the 'can'ts'. Having an important Court Date on the coming Wednesday and having a lot of paperwork to be done simply didn't allow me to fight back. And again for the same reason, I can't be with him for more than twenty-four hours. Have to be back on Wednesday morning to face the black coats. Life's like that.

And this brings back to me the never-forgotten memories of my father who lived a life so proper, I simply do not know how will I ever stand up to his stature. He lived without regrets and his heart betrayed him even before he could know of it. Coincidentally surrounded by his entire family in his final moments on a Sunday evening, he made as peaceful an exit as he had led his existence.

Not for a fleeting moment have I forgotten him since that second Sunday of May this year. But, at the moment, I am burdened with the 'elderly' responsibility of concealing the facts about my true feelings about him. Unlike him, I do have my regrets. I regret not having asked him whether I had been a good son (to which I am sure he would have replied in the affirmative just because he was one who would never hurt anyone). I regret having asked him whether there is anything I could do for him (this one would have been answered in the negative because expectations were never on his agenda). I regret not being able to give him as good a life as he deserved. Destiny had been unfair with him on almost every count. But he neither complained nor held any grudges. In my view, he led an almost divine existence which very few manage to achieve. I am still unable to fathom his greatness. I am saying this not because he was 'my' father but because he actually walked this planet without being a burden on it. He returned far more to life than what he took from it. I can only strive to be worthy of the good life that he left behind for me. I can only pray to the Almighty to give me the kind of strength that my father had embodied within himself. Only then will I be able to put up a contented face when I face him up there.