I happen to have a very big family. Someone teases me saying half of the population of the world comprises of my family people and the other half is the family of his major crush. So what I tried to say by this is, I have a big family. And when I say big, I do not mean the Hum Saath Saath Hain big, I mean much bigger than that. So it means a lot of weddings and ‘poites’ and rice ceremonies. It also means a lot of deaths.

Apu Kaku expired today, well technically yesterday, at around 8:30pm. Cause? 4th stage Lung Cancer.

Now if you are wondering if I was close to him and dying with sorrow myself, you are wrong. No, I was not close to him. He is just the first cousin of my father who stayed on the same para that comprises of houses of many of our relatives, where I stayed my childhood years. I remember him being the cool father to Rai who used to have the most amazing birthday parties. He was the super stud husband who used expensive perfumes. The fondest memory of Apu Kaku would be him explaining the educational game sets to Rai and me. As a child, I always used to wonder if fathers are supposed to be like him. And in a very nice way. Today he is no more.

When I took the dark lanes from my house to Amma Bari today, at around 1:30 am, with Maa, I felt unsure. I felt dependant. I would confess with full honesty that I did get a little scared walking down the lanes with dogs barking far away. The distant man with wobbly steps made Maa pull me to the other side. I wondered if anyone else would ever do the same for me with the right heart. I also felt the need of a protector. Do people marry for this reason? To feel safe? Because love, I know it for a fact can be attained otherwise. I don’t know. I felt unsafe, even with Maa by my side, who did not look too confident either. Even if people marry for safety, today Maa too walked the same unsafe roads, with the same fear, or maybe more. Are we that dependant? May be we are. Sad. This is a topic for later. So, after a proper 10 minutes walk in full speed and no talking (as per instructions) I reached the much known and much loved colony. It was raining and it rained throughout. Complementing the gloom in the air. Nonstop!

The second house in the chain of houses which belong to my relatives had the same crowd that I get to see every now and then these days for not so pleasant events. This was the same house that sheltered Bordi Pishi when Pishu had Cancer and where he finally died a few years ago, the only difference being, it is now turned into a flat. While we waited for the ‘body’ to come, I heard the two phrases “ojotno” and “bhaggo” from everyone around. Be it the 80+ year old Chhoto Amma who cursed herself for being alive or Chhoto Maa who is weary from her past few continuous visits at the hospital with her father’s health problems (I told you, super extended family!).

So why this “ojotno”? Because he lived alone. All alone. Had a daughter who visited occasionally (and that too in the recent years), had a job in the distant Libya where men are made to work like pigs in luxury rooms, but pigs nonetheless, had a terrible cigarette addiction! So he stayed alone and ate whatever he got and hardly had anyone to ask if he is okay on a daily basis. When he came home after work, day after day, there was no one put his food in the microwave, let alone cook the same. He was a lonely man, very lonely man. He strengthens my already strong belief in the fact that family is extremely important. Even if you climb the Mount Everest, if you do not have someone to come back to and tell the stories, you will not feel as happy. And that someone can never be just friends. Nevermind. Now comes the “bhaggo”. Well I would not say his fate was very different from many, his wife left him after 12 years of marriage and married someone else. The bigger blow to him than this was the separation from his darling daughter. Here comes the “bhaggo” factor. So this part of his life also makes me very sceptic about loving someone with all my heart. Why? Apu Kaku loved his wife deeply. Even to the extent that no one and I repeat NO ONE ever heard him complain one bit about how she left him and why she left him. I would not judge Kakima for leaving him, I am sure she had her reasons but Apu Kaku was totally in love with her even at the moment when he breathed his last. His ego did not let him continue with the job that he once got through Kakimaa’s recommendation so he joined this other firm at Libya. That place, the extreme hardwork accompanied by the extreme smoking and “onador” marked his end. His was one epic love. He gave away his last bit of savings to Kakima who left him much before, because she asked for it, even though that left him moneyless for treatment. Whenever Rai visited him, I know how happy he used to be, he always gave a ze-superstar-is-coming introduction to the news of Rai coming over. And as far as Kakima is concerned, he protected her always. ALWAYS.

The day before he died, the doctor asked him “kemon achhen?” and he replied with a “khub bhalo”! That is the kind of person he was. I have never heard him say anything bad about any one and he possessed impossible tolerance. I remember their house being used during Buchu’s wedding or the last days of Bordi Pishu. He was such a kind man. I still have a purple Deo that he brough me from Libya and I thought it would have reactions on my skin. He lost his mother at an early age, lost his wife at an early stage and never questioned God!

Now comes the most difficult part of my experience today. When the “body" arrives. The entire chains of relatives come of their chain of houses and start shouting and crying in a manner that will shake your heart. I do not know how many have the strength to witness such vast amount of people howling, I do not have it for a fact. It makes me nauseous. Nothing frightens me more than deaths. My death and the death of people I care for. These are the days when I go into quite mode, not because I am sad, but because I am thinking. And nothing in particular. There were also unmistakable gossip amidst the crying between some, there were also paused crying where people discussed weather but there were also genuine and heart breaking tears which would terrify you for days.

When they put Apu Kaku left in the same white car (car?) that carried him from the hospital, on a bed with rollers, eyes shut, white wreath clad, peaceful. probably for the first time in many years,  Maa commented “hoye gelo shob shesh” and I wondered yes, so much struggle to grow up, growing up, struggle to marry, marrying, struggle to raise a daughter, succeeding, struggle to hold on to the love, failing. So much struggle and their outcomes end here, today, on the same car that I would ride someday and you would as well. This thought stays for some time and then I start off with my same old control freak nature. But today I am just wondering, if I do the right thing by controlling things (trying to)? I have never been the perfect one in any role of my life yet when I die, it would not matter. People would still cry for me and gossip quietly and I would be past caring. I hereby apologize to anyone whose life decisions have been affected because of my life expectations. You are free to live your life the way you want and die whenever you want because you would die anyway. With or without me knowing, praying, crying, going, staying of course. The kind of live you want to lead before it all ends, choose!

The second major death scene in the same year, which started with the just a year elder Gudle Dada is taking a toll on me maybe. However, I free everyone from my chains today. Decide and fly free. And have a good life. Not like the life story I heard multiple times today. I am just too tired to explain what I meant. I wish I find my answers sometime.

Rest In Peace