A Message from the Grandfather of the Mutiny :)

In Memory OfWhile eating my lunch, I received an email from a name I sort of recognized. Wait a nimisham…could it be?

Anna: The attached file is what I just received from one of my High School buddy (a Parsi) from Ahmedabad. Abhi told me several times how to link something and post it to your blog, but I have not done it yet. Could you please put this on your blog. It would remind all of us – in the aftermath of VT massacre – how important this message is!! ……….Take Care — YO DAD

When my own beloved Father was alive, he asked me to do a dozen things a day: make him coffee, play his favorite MS Subbulakshmi or KB Sunderambal vinyl, read an Op-Ed with which he agreed passionately, see why the dogs were barking, retrieve something from upstairs, since he could no longer do something as simple as climb a flight…I am so ashamed and heartbroken that I often did these things begrudgingly, rolling my eyes and muttering under my breath or worse, sighing dramatically at the tediousness of it all.

Once, my father looked at me sadly and said, “One day, you will even miss this. You will wish for the days when I asked you for a simple cup of kappi.” He knew, because our relationship mirrored the exact same tempestuous, love-hate dynamic he shared with my Grandfather; he expressed his regret over what he couldn’t do for my Appachan daily. “You know, there is a certain pleasure one can derive from doing what is asked…” he said to my useless back, as I returned to whatever fashion magazine, phone call or French assignment he must have roused me from. I can still hear that last sentence, trailing away because I chose to leave and not pay attention.

Eight years have passed and not a day goes by when I don’t re-live that moment. I wish I could make you your coffee, Daddy. But I can’t. It is too late. What I can do is obey someone else’s Daddy, and pretend for a moment that snapping to attention and enthusiastically following through is how I always did things, when you and I know that I didn’t.

::

Mutineers of mine…from what I have read, it seems like we are all reeling while poorly dealing with the senseless tragedy which commenced this week. Non-stop news coverage about every possible detail only adds to the stress and turmoil many of us feel. We all cope differently; my preferred method involves mindfulness, gratitude and love. The support of friends and family– that’s a potent cure for this malaise. I’ve been pensive about many things since researching and writing that post about Minal yesterday…the “message” that Yo Dad wanted us all to see is a large part of what I am clinging to during these bleak hours. It’s a powerpoint presentation and it’s available here: seven wonders. If you are so inclined, take a few moments to see it.

Thanks for thinking of all your “other children” right now, Yo Dad.

14 thoughts on “A Message from the Grandfather of the Mutiny :)

  1. my preferred method involves mindfulness, gratitude and love

    My dad teaches at VT and my cousin is in engineering there – and I’m reeling from this way more than I would have thought. Thank you for reminding us that we can in part choose how we respond. That’s important these days.

  2. This is too funny, my mom sent me an e-mail with the exact same powerpoint this morning. I guess once in a while desi parents just end up channeling on another.

  3. This is too funny, my mom sent me an e-mail with the exact same powerpoint this morning. I guess once in a while desi parents just end up channeling on another.

    You too huh Sriram. I got one from my bf’s mom this morning too and I usually delete these things because they seem lame but today it brought tears in my eyes. I’ve been feeling emotional about this whole terrible tragedy and seeing the faces of those young students now dead over some senseless massacre is heartbreaking. They are even younger than my little brother. So many things we take for granted.

  4. I finally got the ppt to work—better to try and download it and play it locally than click on it directly.

    Thanks Yo Dad. Cheese has its definitely place in life’s palate.

  5. Anna: Thanks. I hope we all are stronger today than what we were before this tragic incident and we do not forget the true meaning of life, and what is important and what is not. Thanks again.

  6. Yo Dad reminds me of my own Gujarati father–he’s sending me wonderful ppt forwards all the time. One he sent recently I think will be very appreciated by you Anna. I’ll email it.

  7. I think trying times like these really force one to reflect on the sanctity of life, its fleeting nature, and how much we may take for granted. The operative word there was “reflect”. The one thing we should not do in these terrible moments is to succumb to knee-jerk reactions presuming that the shooter (who was then only identified as being Asian), must be Pakistani since Pakistanis are Asians and also Muslim, or posting vitriolic hate towards the Korean community based on the actions of one individual, or using this tragedy to support a misguided anti-immigrant agenda.

    I agree with others that the knee-jerk reaction is all too familiar to the desi community – particularly post-9/11. We all feel the hurt, the anger, or the rage – but the question is, how will we direct it? Will we direct it to propagate a problem, or will we direct it toward healing?

    I applaud the efforts of SM bloggers at keeping things focused on the tragedy itself as opposed to the spiraling, anger-induced commentary. I think it is a shame that in the past two weeks, SM got press that could have been done without. First, the rant from the obviously ignorant journalist who felt compelled to respond to Naina’s post with one of the most off-base, over-generalization filled articles I’ve read in a while. And now, Newsweek chooses to ignore the touching, even-minded, tolerance-promoting postings by ANNA and others on the tragedy itself, as well as a good majority of comments, in order to focus on a particular hate-mongering comment. Way to miss the mountain for the mole hill.

    I just want to share a thought that I’ve been turning around in my head. As a disclaimer, I am not by any means trying to detract from magnitude of this tragedy, and my sympathies lie with all those who lost loved ones. I just want to make a comment regarding perception. We are all feeling the sanctity of life which is why the shootings have horrified us. I know there are obvious dissimilarities and I am not trying to do a side-by-side comparison, but this morning I read that 183 people died in bombings in Baghdad. I’m not trying to play one tragedy against the other; my point is this: life is precious and when it is innocently and needlessly lost, it is always an enormous tragedy regardless of motives and politics. I just wanted to put it out there – our world is rocked by this senseless tragedy in Virginia. How on earth are people coping in regions like Darfur or Iraq where this is a way of life??? Just something to think about ….

  8. It takes some nice cheese to make a well good sandwich. Nice presentation to end the day with.

  9. indeed a nice way to end a day ! only if this went out to everyone in the world and made sense to them as much as it made sense to us …

  10. I really feel bad that though the day for us has ended but not the sufferings of the families who have lost their loved ones. May their sufferings dwindle soon too

  11. Sean: My wife used to turn the alarm clock off in her sleep. I was late for work all the time because in the middle of the night she’d roll over and turn the damn thing off. Eventually I got a second clock and put it under my side of the bed, but it got to where she was gettin’ to that one too. She was afraid of the dark, so the closet light was on all night. Thing kept me up half the night. Eventually I’d fall asleep, out of sheer exhaustion and not wake up when I was supposed to cause she’d have already gotten to my alarms.

    Will smiles, Sean takes a beat.

    Sean: My wife’s been dead two years, Will. And when I think about her, those are the things I think about most. Little idiosyncrasies that only I knew about. Those made her my wife. And she had the goods on me too. Little things I do out of habit. People call these things imperfections, Will. It’s just who we are.

    — Good Will Hunting