Sunday, June 2, 2002		Life Ties

The benevolence of the spirit
Taru Bahl

ARTI was the only child of her parents brought up in the quiet environs of Dalhousie. Her marriage to Angad, a State Civil Service officer, was the high point in the lives of her cousins. They were excitedly looking forward to setting sight on the 600-strong barat which was assembling in their frozen-in-time hill station. However, they wondered how the shy, bookworm Arti would adjust to what was obviously a fun- loving and boisterous family. Keeping track of an army of in-laws would be quite a task. Given the fact that Angad was the eldest, she would not only have to embrace the family with open arms but also be the perfect badi bahu.

Angad was sociable and a man of varied interests. Within the first year of marriage, there was a sea- change in Arti. It seemed as if she had been put through a finishing school. Her way of dressing, talking, social conduct, housekeeping and even attitude and behaviour were smarter and perfectly in sync with the lifestyle she led with her husband. Angad had lovingly involved her in everything that mattered to him. He, it seemed, did not want just a good housewife but a friend, companion, adviser and critic. The bond they both shared was unique. He did not push her into doing things she couldn't or didn't want to do. Her personal growth and fine tuning happened not because she feared him or wanted to seek his approval. Instead, she had become convinced that her life was inextricably linked with this wonderful man who was giving her the opportunity to evolve all the time. He was giving her the platform to search, experiment, imbibe and discard but without growing away from him.. Their union was the crux and pivot of their existence. She valued it and, in the two decades of her marriage, consciously built on it every day.

Matching Angad's exacting standards was not easy. He was a man who liked doing things well, be it keeping a kitchen garden, having his boss over for tea or trying out a bar-be-cue dinner. If he was particular he was also hard working and house-proud. On holidays, one could find him polishing door knobs, cleaning glass windows or going to the farthest end of the town to pick the choicest variety of fish. For Arti, every day was a new learning experience. He never gave her reason to complain. He was a responsible father and a caring husband. Being part of a large family had made him easily adaptable to any situation. The only thing he didn't do consciously was to prepare her for a life without him.

He was there, doing well and they had a fairytale marriage with two daughters who were growing up fine. He had made sensible financial investments to see their higher education through. What no one anticipated was that one sunny morning, the day they had invited a bunch of his batch mates to dinner, he would throw up a spool of blood and be rushed to the hospital making his last journey ever. The diagnosis was galloping cancer and there was also a clot in his brain. He went into coma and breathed his last eight days later. Arti was numb with shock and could not bring herself to scream, cry or talk. Her feet would not carry her away from the hospital bed. She had come with him and would leave with him. Never had she gone anywhere alone. He was always there by her side, prodding her, encouraging her, being there to hold her if she fell. She remembered how he had taught her to drive, swim, climb mountains, para sail and go bungee-jumping. How could she go through an entire life without him ?

What took her by surprise was the stoicness with which she accepted the reality of her situation. This was thanks to the constant presence of friends, course mates, members of the extended family and scores of acquaintances whose lives Angad had touched with his warmth, sincerity and love. They took turns being with her and her daughters, letting her run through the initial course of uncontrollable grief, being there when she needed to sort out her next move and then offering complete physical support in implementing that. Whether it was running around for pension and gratuity or disposing off ancestral property and reinvesting the sale money, or helping her re-locate into temporary accommodation close to the plot Angad had bought, they took charge smoothly.

She had always marveled at his ability of forging ties of the heart with people. She knew how much effort he expended in keeping relationships alive and it had made him popular and respected. And now when he was not there, they were all doing what perhaps he would have done. He was indeed a special man.

Another defining moment came in her life when Angad's ex-boss's wife, Bharti, insisted she join in running her school. On the senior lady's insistence, she did her B.Ed and gradually a pattern was established. She taught half day at school and took tuitions at home in the afternoons. Her elder daughter was in Mumbai studying mass communication and the younger one was preparing for IIT. In the decade that followed, both the girls got married and settled down in good jobs.

One was living overseas and the other in Mumbai. Arti spent her summer vacations with the girls but loved getting back to school. She neither wanted to be dependent on them nor did she want them rushing to be by her side, worried she was alone. Fortunately for everybody, the ease with which Bharti and her husband Dave included Bharti in their lives bought a lot of calm and strength to a woman who could never have imagined that leading a life as a widow could actually be pleasant.

This companionship was born not out of need or blood. It was mutual respect and a sense of duty towards a dead man that had brought them together. Finally, it was love, nurturing, commitment and a constant replenishment of positive energies that became their strength in the twilight years of their lives. Close to 70, they are still leading active lives without being a burden on their children or grieving over bygones. Arti found comfort in the rhythm of a daily routine though not a day passed without her thinking of Angad. He was always with her in spirit, if not in body, and his noble presence was always reassuring for her.