An ordinary day!

 

One Such Day of Pitrupaksha

As always, I hurriedly pulled my gate shut and stepped out of my apartment, hoping to find an autorickshaw. I was waiting at a corner of the road when I heard a tall, fair, old man asking for the same location where my college was.

Just then, an autorickshaw came towards me. I called out to the uncle and asked him to join me in the shared rickshaw. As he sat beside me, I felt a strange yet gentle, fatherly warmth.

When we reached his destination, he carefully got down with the help of his stick. Before leaving, he affectionately said, “Thank you, madam,” and gave me a sweet smile.

That smile struck a chord within me, and I went to college with a strangely happy feeling.

In the staff room, I noticed that two of the senior professors had coincidentally worn the same type of shirt. I clicked their picture, and they were equally happy to be photographed. After that, I got busy with my usual schedule.

The day passed.

On my way back home, I found myself sharing an autorickshaw with an old lady. I did not allow her to sit in the corner because I was worried that she might lose her balance. We squeezed in together and comfortably reached near my bus stop, from where I had to walk for about twenty minutes to get home.

On the way, I met two of my papa’s friends. I stopped, spoke to them for a while, and very politely bid them goodbye.

A little later, as I reached a lane behind my home, an old uncle looked at me, smiled and asked, “So, when did you shift, beta?”

I knew he had mistaken me for someone else, but there was such gentleness in his smile that I simply replied, “Long back, kaka.”

He insisted, “But last time you stayed here when I visited your home.”

I then smiled and said, “Kaka, I think you are talking about someone else. I don’t think we have met before.”

He looked at me curiously.

I added, “Your smile is very nice. That is why I smiled back at you.”

He seemed genuinely pleased to hear that.

“Beta,” he said, “this is what ultimately counts in life. All the riches that money cannot buy are what finally give us happiness. Stay blessed.”

And I walked home.

Now, as I was about to sleep, I began putting together all the little happenings of the day, one by one, just like jigsaw.

And suddenly, it struck me.

Perhaps papa keeps meeting me in the form of someone or the other.

He was as loving and gentle as all the old men I had met that day. There was something familiar in those smiles, those affectionate words, those little moments of care.

Isn’t Pitrupaksha, in some way, about meeting and vibing with our ancestors and dear ones in forms we may not always recognise?

Or do I need to validate this feeling through Western standards, through a movie like Coco and several other movies from other continents that speak of that time of the year when our loved ones from the other world are believed to feel an urge to connect with us, be with us and bless us?

Maybe some experiences do not need validation.

Maybe they simply need to be felt.

And perhaps, on one such day of Pitrupaksha, papa found his way to me through a few smiles, a few strangers and a few familiar feelings.