How can one go away just like
that? Disappear suddenly with no notice and no further possibility of talking
or meeting again.
My LIC agent was visiting his
ailing father in his native Kerala town. The evening he reached he had a sudden
pain in the chest. While they were taking him to a hospital he suddenly
collapsed and died on the spot. The whole event, his daughter recalled later,
took about two minutes; two minutes’ notice before going away forever.
He was 53 years of age and had no
previous cardiac history.
I was on the way to my car on the
Friday afternoon after offering prayers at my father’s grave who had passed
away two nights ago when I saw a call from my LIC agent on the mobile. His
assistant was on the line and was talking about a death. I thought she had come
to know about my father’s demise and had called up to offer sympathies. It took
me a minute to realize she was talking instead of my LIC agent who had passed
away.
He had shared a bitter-sweet
relationship with my father, as any insurance agent is bound to. My father had provided
him with new business but would not mince words when he expected service, and the
LIC agent would politely offer all assistance possible. When something was not
possible to fulfill, he would call me and entreat sincerely to mediate with my
father.
On his first visit to our house
when I offered him tea, he accepted it immediately. Later on he clarified that
he never refused any beverages offered because that provided him some
additional time to converse with his customers. His whole business was based on
conversations.
Just a week ago, as my father lay
critically ill, I had called him up to seek his and his staff’s forgiveness for
anything hurtful my father would have ever said to them. He called me immediately
the next morning saying he had done as conveyed and his staff had forgiven my
father and wished him good health.
That was the last conversation we
had. And ironically it wasn’t about a
new policy or a premium to be paid, it was about forgiveness.
As I drove down to my house from
the graveyard, my ache was no longer for my father but for this soft gentleman
who peddled his business almost like an apology, who till that moment had
always seemed as if he would be there when required. And for the shock and
grief of his wife and daughter who had suddenly lost the only man in their
life.
How does one go away just like
that with no warnings, no time for a proper farewell?
And I wondered about the meaning
of life. Most of us will not die at 53, not so suddenly without a ‘handover.’ Yet
there can be no doubt that life is finite, temporary and insulated – in the
sense that nothing that is acquired here can be taken forward.
And yet most of our striving, and
consequently most of our pain is for acquiring.
It didn’t take much time to
realize the futility of trying to decipher the meaning of life – for there can be no definitive answers; everyone would
have their own meaning. It was rather more important to add meaning to life.
And I realized that no matter
what one chose to do, it was important for it to be meaningful. That was the
only way to ensure a life well spent.
