About time

It started when I was sitting in my living room watching Lage Raho Munnabhai (I've seen it at least thirteen million times, and Mom had too, but Dad hadn't, and I'd strongly recommended it to him), and I heard RJ Jahnvi spout these beautiful words:

Shaher ki is daud me daud ke karna kya hai?
'Gar yehi jeena hai doston, toh phir marna kya hai?

(Why do we run the endless rat race of the city?
If this is what we call living, then how do we define dying?)

Pehli barish me train late hone ki fikr hai
Bhul gaye bheegte hue tehelna kya hai?

(We worry about the train being late because of the first monsoon showers
Have we forgotten how it is to take a slow walk in the rain?)

Serials ke kirdaaro ka saara haal hai maloom
Par maa ka haal poochhne ki fursat kahan hai?

(We know everything about the characters in TV serials
But we have no time to find out how our own mother is doing?)

Ab ret pe nange paon tehelte kyun nahin?
108 hai channel phir bhi dil behelte kyun nahin?

(Why don't we walk barefoot on the sand any more?
There are 108 channels on TV, but why don't they entertain anymore?)

Internet se duniya ke to touch me hain,
lekin pados mein kaun raheta hai jaante tak nahin.

(We're in touch with the whole world over the Internet
But we have no idea who lives in our own neighbourhood.)

Mobile, landline sab ki bharmaar hai,
Lekin jigri dost tak pahuche aise taar kaha hai?

(There is no dearth of mobile phones and landlines
But where is the cord that would reach a dear friend?)

Kab doobte hue suraj ko dekha tha, yaad hai?
Kab jaana tha shaam ka guzarna kya hai?

(Do you remember when you last saw the setting sun?
Do you remember when the evening passed you by?)

Toh doston, shaher ki is daud me daud ke karna kya hai
'Gar yahi jeena hai toh phir marna kya hai?

(So friends, why do we run the endless rat race of the city?
If this is what we call living, then how do we define dying?)

Sigh.

Dad went back to India today. :(

Mom's already in the US. I'd got her to Singapore by bribing her that if she came here, she could watch baby Aish's antics over my sister's webcam. "You can watch her eat, sleep, babble, and drive Apa nuts. It's just like a reality show. Except that you actually care about the daily activities of the character." And that's when my smart sister bribed Mom with promises of the 'live show' and whisked her off to the US. Hmmph!

Dad didn't go to the US as he had limited days of leave. But he did stay on with me for a couple of days after Mom left for the US. However, in the last few days, I hadn't been able to spend a lot of time with Dad, and he was all alone at home. Last week I had two teleconferences with the US office, and annoyingly both were at 8 pm, which meant I only got home by 10 pm (bedtime for my very disciplined Dad). Taking leave was not possible, and I was beginning to feel incredibly guilty for not being able to spend time with him. Luckily, he wasn't getting bored while I was at office. He'd go for a walk to the beach in the morning, then go for a swim in the pool in my condominium, and then keep himself busy with the books I'd got from the library till it was time to heat up the lunch I'd have kept in the fridge. Post-lunch, he'd engage in reading the news on the computer and emailing me, followed by what he called 'the matinee show' - watching the 'DVD of the day' that I'd recommended (he's not really a hindi movie person, and I'd taken it upon myself to convert him!). Then he'd go for a swim (again!) in the evening and then read my blog till I got back from the office.

So on Thursday, I took half a day off to just hang out with him. It had been almost a decade since I'd spent quality time with my Dad. He and I have always had a special bond. A lot of relatives tell me I look exactly like my Dad, while others say I am a photocopy of Mom. I don't believe any of them. In fact, I believe that my sister, by virtue of being born first, had the entire collection before her. She picked the best features from Mom and Dad and went 'Yippee! Thenga!' while I scraped the bottom of the barrel and went 'Okay fine!' But the one thing I know for sure came from Dad is my love for writing. Within his banker self dwells a writer, just like the one that dwells within my engineer/editor self.

So on thursday, we decided to go cactus-shopping first. Dad is crazy about plants, and especially loves the grafted cactus that I take for him every time I go to India. (Oh yeah, I may have got his long fingers, but I certainly didn't get his green ones! I'm the kind who can kill even cacti just by looking at them. Sheesh.)

After I'd got him this adorably tiny cactus with a red flower, we decided to take a walk to the beach. I'd asked him what food he'd liked the best so far, and he'd mentioned chilli crab. So we decided to hang out at the beach and then go for a chilli crab dinner.

It was cool and breezy at the beach, and we walked close to the water till we were too exhausted to walk anymore. So we found some cement benches under some palm trees and talked. We talked and we talked and we talked. I told him about what's happening at my workplace, how I love it but at times miss working on the kids' magazine in the last company, and he told me of his plans after retirement. I asked him when he discovered the writer in himself, and he told me of the time when he discovered the one in me. I told him about my sudden love for my sudden discovery Abhay Deol, and he said that he found my recommendation Ahista Ahista one of the best movies he'd seen. We laughed over stories from my childhood, of the time when Mom had gone to Grandma's for a week, and Dad had enthusiastically cooked chicken for my sister and me (the chicken was so horrible, my sister and I almost turned vegetarian for life). He told me of all the things from my childhood that he had preserved in my 'bachpan box' - my first toys, my favourite childhood book 'The lost girl and the scallywags', my crutches from when I had broken my leg, my handmade birthday cards to him, and what not. We spoke of the time when he bought me my first bicycle and taught me how to ride it. Hell, we even discussed politics, something I never ever discuss with anyone (mostly due to my ignorance in the subject area). I asked him which Indian Prime Minister he thought was the best so far, and he named Nehru. "Leaders in those days were passionate." he said. "India had just got independence, and the focus of the leaders was nation-building, not personal gains. But these days..." Sigh.

Dinner was awesome too. It's difficult to describe what I felt when I saw him happily digging into the chilli crab like a child, looking at the huge lobsters in the tank in awe, trying to use chopsticks to pick up the peanuts, offering to crack open the crab shell for me because I couldn't, telling me I should work less, and eat and sleep more. I felt like a daughter. If you know what I mean. I felt alive.

That night, I slept so well. I did not dream of exams. I did not dream of work. I did not dream about where I was going to settle down. In fact, I did not dream.

And when I woke up this morning and realised that it was a saturday and Dad, Viv and I had the whole day to one another, I had the most wonderful 'I'm home' feeling I'd had in years. It was one of those moments when sappy quotes written by sickeningly happy people, and propagated in the form of annoying forwards start to make perfect sense. This is what life is - spending time with your loved ones. We've got to stop running after and wasting our time on things that do not really matter, and really look at what and whom we have and cherish them, and give them our time. Most often, when we spend time with someone, it's always 'over dinner' or 'over a movie'. Are we that socially stunted that we can't spend time with one another if it's not 'over something'? Whatever happened to great conversations, enlightening debates and moments of togetherness 'over nothing'?

They say time is money. I say bah!

Time is not money - it's way more valuable than that.