They Become Immortal

They Become Immortal

It was 23 rd April. I was beside my father in the I.C.U. He was gradually losing all his systems and the doctor’s their hope. They feared a heart failure any moment. I knew I was losing him and that it was my last chance to be with him and feel his presence. It was excruciating as both of us knew that the sinew binding us was breaking.

I couldn’t control my emotions when he asked me to massage his scalp so that he could sleep. This was one of his idiosyncrasies. As I was gently rubbing my hands over his bare scalp, he looked at me with tears in eyes and said, “Boney, I am scared.” I knew he always was. He feared death, the pain of parting and his name evanescent.

I wished to make my dad immortal and he surely deserved being one. Not because he was dear to me but because he was a great doctor, man of goodness, a true humanitarian, kind at heart and lovely like a child. He went into his deep, unabated sleep that night.

Six months passed. I was in the same hospital, this time with my wife in the labor room. The hospital reminded me of my father. It was the same place where few months back I was near my dad. We were sharing old memories and remembering my childhood pranks. We had wept, consoled and allayed each others fears and sorrows. I fell asleep thinking of him. I met him again that night. He looked the same as I saw him last; dressed in a white robe, lying on the hospital bed, his hands clasped tightly over mine. He said, “Boney, I will live….I will live.” It was 5:00 a.m. when the nurse woke me and gave me the news that we were blessed with a baby boy.

Though it was a dream but my dad’s presence was very real. I felt his words and touch and it seemed that he would recuperate and stand healthy again.

I never dreamt of dad again but thought of him very often. His words echoed and brought back the melancholy for I knew it was impossible to have him back.

I could never figure out the truth in his words until one night my five year old son crept into my bed. Ensconcing himself into my blanket he said, “Daddy, please massage my scalp I can’t sleep.” His words blew the sand of time and I felt my dad’s presence. He was so near and this time there was no melancholy. Yes! He was alive! Dad was alive… in my memories, my heart core, in me, my son and in all those men and women who still remembered him. I knew he will always stay alive and safe there.

Since then I talked a great deal to my son about his grand father. I wanted him to follow his traits and become a good doctor and human being like dad was. Probably, this way I could make my dad immortal.

Men die, names evanescent, civilizations perish but deeds and goodness impinges in the hearts of men. And those who make a place in hearts never die….they become immortal!

- Vagmita Joshi