Logging into work bright and early, I place my fingers at the feet of the tiny pillayar at my desk and touch it to my eyes. Like I do on days when I feel happy. Or sad. Or in need of reassurance. I turned and spied a new addition to my desk. A picture of Satya Sai Baba. I have no idea who gave it to me. It was in my purse for the longest time and one day in the past three weeks, rummaging through my bag for something I came across the laminated picture and being in a generous mood I set it against my dad’s framed photo.
Since then every time I turn from my monitor to look at my dad, I now see four pairs of eyes smiling back at me. Am not sure I call myself a believer but something about the smile and a knowing pair of eyes quietens my mood.
So, coming back to today, I touched my daddy’s face and respectfully touched my eyes like I would do for any deity I was worshipping. Smiling at the picture I realize how two and half years have passed by. Just like that. The raw pain dulled into a numb grief, exploding on occasion. Then it pushed itself to the back of my psyche showing itself in occasional tears. Then now, is the phase when I smile. Smile basking in the memories of the good man who raised me. A person am infinitely proud of calling my Appa. The tears come but they are tinged with positive emotions. Like my Thatha, Appa now has acquired a sepia toned warm image in my mind. Anchoring a place in my past after having hovered in the present for a long time.
Perhaps, it is time to let go of the grief and rejoice in the life he led. A time to draw on the wisdom he passed on to me. A time to worship him.