Once upon a time..........
A person who means most to me because of whom, I am who I am. He has been always a perfectionist all through his life. A systematic, organised way he led his life watching out for the smallest and finest details to everything in day to day life.
When we were young, we were all not only impressed but also always nervous about him coming home to find either the table unclean or keys not kept exactly in the corner of the drawers. At that time Mikano erasers were costly by the standards of that age and they were kept in the lockers! They would have accidentally shifted a mm and he would know someone had touched them! He always kept his few things in order -spic and span. Not a pinch of dirt would be around his things. A handful of shirts and trousers with a watch and company id card adorned his wardrobe shelf. Just one shelf which comprised of all his belongings. The newspapers once read would be neatly folded exactly in the crease with not even a paper missing out of it. They would be arranged as per dates and none of it could be used for other purposes except to give it to the raddhiwala[the waste paper man].
As a person who had minimal needs and wants he also never indulged in the bad habits of alcohol or tobacco. When all around we could find many of his age group people having all the fun by indulging in other activities he was more happy saving for the family and their future.
As kids we could depend on him for improving our English essays to be written in school. Physics and maths were his favourite subjects. His drawings were just too perfect. He was what you called in those days "Hitler" to the core. Nowadays we do not find too many of those type of persons, as if the new generation would listen and act on Hitler's orders!
He gave his thirty years of hard work mentally and physically and put everything he had for the company he thought would give him what he deserved. A long long awaited promotion and designation. It never came. What came after that was just too bad for him and for the family.
What began with small incidents of heated arguments about someone telling him something or whispering in his ears to ask him to do various things like going to office, or not and maybe to visit the relatives out of station or go on a vacation, all built into bigger and bigger meaningless statements which could not be argued upon by anyone in family. He was obsessed about the Voice he heard and no one could convince him on any matter whatsoever. The arguments turned bitter, and what began as a weekly issue piled on to a daily incidents. Everyday was becoming an ordeal to deal with. No one could pinpoint what was it that caused him to say such things which were never heard of from him before. Good manners, good behaviour all went out of the window as if it had never been a part of us.
It took his better half two years, to find, research ( at a time when there were no internet facilities) information on this kind of state he had got into. Then visits to psychiatrists, neurologists had to be done though with him but he had to be given medicines mixed with his food so he would not know he was under medication. This was to keep his thoughts under control and if he knew of it he would not take any of it.
Here I would like to explain when Voices are heard people start depending on them for their thinking and actions. Any person who says he hears Voices will not listen or even consider to think of others' thoughts or advice. He too was one of them. It was just disheartening to see and hear him speak the same things over and over again about his long awaited promotion and the company he worked for and the colleagues he had. No amount of reasoning would help him or his actions.
This process continued through for almost fifteen years. There are certain incidents (both good and bad) which stay fresh in our minds. Most of them a part of this state of being he is in. He still seemed to be in his own small world of office and colleagues, still awaited the office bus to pick him up, or drop, or probably today at this time, he yet hasn't received the call of the Voice as to what time he has to leave to work to receive the most awaited designation certificate. No amount of convincing seems to have effect on his thoughts.
Life went on like this for him as he turned 70 and he didn't recollect anyone else in the house with memory lapses in between except the son and his wife who stayed with him. It was a new day everyday with him, for his caretakers who have to rejuvenate oneself with meditation or positive thoughts, any self help books they can lay their hands on, and try to learn the art of convincing him that it has been fifteen years since his VRS (as he is retired) from his services.
Hope stood still in everyone's mind. Some day maybe ..... maybe.... he would return to his normal self .... and talk and do the right things.
The innocent soul passed on his journey of life beyond death leaving us with beautiful memories.
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