Precious Farewells

I do dread the arrival of the morning paper especially so in the last few days .When I see them near the gate (depending on the aim of the paper boy )I stare at it for a few moments reluctant to pick it up but then curiosity (the very same that kills the cat )makes me pick it up and then all my nightmares come alive .The first page carries merciless pictures of shattered bodies of men ,women and children or half burnt limbs ,crying mothers ,shocked toddlers,the gory details for all to see.My mind always goes to the last day of their life .Did they know this was going to happen when they said their farewells? What was in their minds when a wife waved goodbye to her husband at the airport, at the bus stop or wherever they parted from? What did the mother think when she said Ta Ta to her children and kissed the toddler? Did the lover know that he wouldn’t see his girl again? What visions did the parents carry when they waved their only child goodbye? This brings back a picture of a couple I knew years back .
It was in Mumbai, way back in the 70s, we were allotted a flat in the uptown Colaba area . It was actually a four bedroom affair which belonged to a parsee couple Due to their old age and need of a source of income, it was now partitioned and made into two apartments, of which, one was ours, as temporary accommodation provided by Navy On our first day we went calling on them .At first all you would see was furniture all over the place ,antiques and loads of it , marble statues and busts , bronze figurines and seated among them was an equally old man and woman .So frail was the woman ,her skin was like dry parchment and hair wisps of white strands, the man was her male counterpart . both of them were about 75 yrs old.. They had no children The house was run by a plethora of servants (practically ruling the roost )
Mr D had his office in another part of the town and he would set out at about 9 in the morning His car was one of those early models ,most of the time covered with droppings of all the neighbourhood birds (the servants hardly bothered to clean it ) .
One morning for some reason I was late for school and stepped out to see Mr D. waving goodbye to his wife .Seeing me, he quickly stepped in to the waiting lift and .before I could get in, he was off and she shut the door .not looking very pleased.
Feeling lazy to get down a flight of six stories I pressed the button and sat to a side on the steps waiting for the lift to come up , when to my surprise the lift was back in a jiffy and there was Mr D stepping out .looking about him secretively ..the door opened even before he pressed the bell, his wife came out and held him in a tight hug and kissed both his cheeks and he did the same to her .She patted his coat and bid farewell again .Mr .D turned with a smile on his face and stepped into the waiting lift not noticing the little me in the shadows .His wife waved till the lift was out of sight .This time there was no one to interrupt their farewell
It was only years later the significance of that farewell struck me ..Their deep affection for each other and the the fear that it might be the last time they saw each other alive ..Each goodbye was precious.
Then times were different ..you could still have a hope of living long but now each day is precious ,Each goodbye may or may not be your last. So bring out your love don’t mask it behind shyness and ego .Hug your wife ,kiss your children, hold your old parents close to your heart whenever you feel , call up your near and dear ones including your friends at least once a week .Lets make a place in their hearts in case we are destined to bid the final farewell . For each farewell is precious today .