Gundu – the Teacher - 05

Gundu Takes Over My Mind

We come back and after an eventful lunch (meaning after many protests and unsuccessful pleadings) we coax Gundu to take a nap. I tell him a story. Halfway through, Gundu with one/ two / three fingers in his mouth and the other hand holding mine close to his body drifts off to sleep and so do I. When he stirs sometime I increase my pressure and he sleeps deeply. When he gets up I am so relaxed and comfortable. He tells me his dream (not realising it was one) as if it happened. I beam with pleasure. What pleasure is it? Does it have a name?

I call him names- all sorts of names- that are at once nonsensical. He does not know the meaning but understands the spirit. Whenever I call him by some such name he runs to Ajji (Grandma) complaining. After some days he gets smart and asks me to call him names so that he can complain to Ajji.

I am lying down in a hospital, Narayana Hrudayalaya, after a painful surgery. It has been four or five days after the surgery and I yearn to see him. Lakshmi does not like to bring the child into the Hospital and I agree with her. But to her credit she brings him (actually Hospital rules do not allow) to the ward. Gundu, all of five months, is unperturbed by all this drama. Once inside he screams at the top of his voice so that everyone in the ward and beyond can hear him. My spirit soars.

A few days later I feel I cannot carry him in my arms. The shock is huge and I cry uncontrollably. A few months later I can lift him and carry him around. I am now as proud as a peacock. He climbs up on me as if I were a tree or a ladder  with a war cry ‘ Hattu Mele ‘ meaning ‘ Climb Up ‘. His feet press on my chest and the wound (due to surgery) protests and there is a sharp pain. Soon pain dissolves into pleasure.

I do some antics and Gundu laughs uncontrollably.  I can feel joy flowing through me. I am reminded of my grandma who always smiled or laughed at any outrageous things I did or said. She would at worst call me a joker (‘nakali Shama ‘ ). I could do no wrong. Unfortunately the intermediate generations did not have such insight and wisdom to recognise the greatness! Perhaps wisdom eludes alternate generations. My grandmother ( that my  grandfather did not have a great opinion about me is an  inconvenient data and should be discarded ) , I and Gundu share similar wisdom and opinions !

Lakshmi leaves for office in a hurry without adequate parting talk. Gundu becomes aware of the fact that she has left. I am carrying him and try to say something soothing to divert his attention. Gundu is angry and hits me. A few minutes later Gundu comes close and asks me ’Why did I hit you Bebaine? ‘. I murmur ‘It was your right’.

We are in the swimming pool. Gundu sees my surgeon ravaged chest. He is shocked. ‘What happened Bebaine ‘he cries. I laugh happily.

It is night. Gundu sleeping next to me in semi darkness says that I scare him and turns away towards Ajji. He wakes up in the morning and looks at me coming into the room and asks in a voice dipping in concern and affection ‘Where were you Bebaine?’ This time something chokes.

I sing a song. Even Gundu finds it intolerable. He catches the last phrase of the line ‘ hosa Beedi ‘ and exclaims ‘ No Hosa Beedi ! No Hosa Beedi! ‘

We play many games. I lose a majority of them. Gundu is happy. This was expected. A few days later in a game (‘catching the ball’) he is leading 9 to 6 and intentionally drops the ball so that he does not win. I ask him why. He says that he does not want me to lose and feel unhappy. ‘What made you so sensitive? ‘, I wonder.

I meet him after a ‘long’ time of two months after he left Bangalore. We reach their home in North Brunswick around 7 pm. Gundu walks in and I rush and pick him and blabber something. Gundu is in my arms too overwhelmed by emotion to speak but pats my back and puts his head on my shoulders. He has spoken eloquently. I cannot recall or watch video without becoming emotional even now.

Time to say bye as we leave USA. On earlier occasions I preferred to leave when he is not around as I cry all the way to the airport and beyond. This time Gundu refuses to go to school and asks me ‘Will you cry when you leave me? ’ I say ‘Yes, I do ‘. My rascal boy smiles in satisfaction! When the time comes I do cry and Gundu, all of five years,  now looking soft and  serious  comes close to me and consoles  ‘ Don’t cry Bebaine ‘. I cry even more.

A book, a song, a mountain, a beach, a park, a pond, an animal, children playing or sleeping, a rainbow, – all trigger thoughts about Gundu.

I am in a Vishaka Hari discourse. The intense yearning of a devotee soon transforms into my yearning for Gundu.

Moments before going to sleep I wish he were here to hold and talk and tell my ‘great’ stories.

I invent a new name for him but he is not there to share it.

Usha cooks a delicious dish and I wonder how Gundu would have liked it

Now I am in Bangalore far away from North Brunswick where my Gundu lives. I think of him all the time and wonder when I would see him. (US visas are terrible. They allow hardly six months for us to stay). I listen to the song by Sankaran Namboothri and Krishna – rather Gundu  - comes alive.

Paalvadiyum mugham

Pal vadiyum mugam  ( innocent face or literally milky face )

Ninaindu ninaindu en ullam (thinking about / recalling; thinking about / recalling - the face - my mind)

Paravasam miga vaguden          ( why is very much thrilled)

Kanna                                        ( krishna - Gunda )

ಪಾಲ್ವಡಿಯುಂ ಮುಗಂ

ನಿನೈಂದು ನಿನೈಂದು ಎನ್ ಉಲ್ಲಂ

ಪರವಶಮಾಗುದೇನ್

ಕಣ್ಣಾ

And later the poet sees him everywhere. It could have been written for me! I understand Gundu very well when he thinks of Rama all the same. Madness? So be it.

I wonder how a mere slip of a boy can occupy my mind entirely and dominate it. Gundu props up in usual and usual moments. He is a trigger for an experience and sometimes a catalyst and some other time the essence of it.

As I write recalling many such incidents there is a lump in the throat, eyes are watery and there is sweet sadness (he is not here now and moreover he is not the same Gundu although adorable in a different way). Gundu brings out the best in me – softness, forgiveness, tolerance, contentment, joy, a sense of wellbeing and a deep sense of gratitude to life which has been kind to me. I feel free and don’t have to prove anything to anyone including me. I feel intensely “ kurai ondrum illai Keshava “ – I have no complaints my Lord . I listen to music with greater pleasure, eat more heartily, and drift off to sleep so contentedly.

Life is kinder, brighter. Red is redder and Green greener and sweet is sweeter.

 Life presents the same picture to everyone but perception depends on the individual. Sensors, sensitivity and imagination define life. I feel Gundu has purified, enhanced, sharpened my perceptions and often added new dimensions so that life looks different.

I have always liked this poem (‘A Prayer for My Daughter ‘by W.B. Yeats ) and prayed for our daughters and now for Gundu with a minor change in gender:

   May he become a flourishing hidden tree

   That all his thoughts may like the linnet be,