I am watching IPL this Friday night. As I did last week. In a couple of hours I would sleep; only to be up by 5 AM to do my daily stint of Yog. But, I did not get a text message (SMS) to read first up, like I did today.
The sms that I received from my colleague Kavitha read "Mallesh has expired. He omitted blood". The message was sent half an hour past midnight; I got to read at 4:50 AM sharp. I was shell shocked. Mallesh and I used the same elevator and exchanged "bye"s as I headed home last Friday. As I mechanically did the routine things and Yog watching Astha, I could not believe on what has happened. I just did not comprehend on what has happened. Not to disturb my other colleagues I sms them on our plans, I mean to attend his funeral. My colleagues respond within an hour and company car comes to pick me up early in the morning to take four of us colleagues to Nagamangala, some 120 kms from Bengaluru off Mangalore National Highway - Malleshi's village - to where the body was shifted early in the morning.
As we drove through the highway which is being four laned, we keep silence and weep mentally. We are men, we are not supposed to weep. But all of us wonder on why this has happened and how it could happen. All the way until we reach Nagamangala town in Sugarcane belt of Mandya destrict.
Mallesh who I saw overnight back is a corpse now. His body retains the freshness of his face. I see an elderly woman weeping inconsolably; a young woman in her mid twenties with two little kids on her laps crying and a hundred odd villagers waiting for the burial to happen. Soon, his body is lifted and moved to the 4 ft deep trench and covered with soil. Overnight rain might just have helped the process.
Mallesh was all of 31; little elder than me. He came to our office though third party as an attender and used to keep our office clean. And serve us water, coffee every morning and snacks and juice in the mid afternoon. Daily. He might have got some 3000 rupees from the third party man power supplier and did not have PF or any other benefits. His widow works for a garment factory that has been laying people off (acc to him) and the elder son is barely 7. Younger daughter is 2. Both did not comprehend on what has happened that night in Bengaluru. Some good Indica taxi driver agreed to bring these three with a relative + Mallesh's body that fatal night back to Nagamangala.
After a week, his memory still haunts me. All the time. I get up midnight. And ask what has happened. My question never gets answered. I pray for peace of departed soul and strength to his family members. My 20 odd colleagues from Bengaluru branch have agreed to chip in some monetary help for his family. That will not be a big help. But some help, for the time being. I shiver as I think about his family's future.
How ephemeral is this world? We buy things for that I, we seek pleasures for that I and yet that I will depart within no time when the time comes. Without wondering about parents that gave birth; wife that bore two kids.
Is it really worth of dancing to the tunes of our "I"?
(I consider I as aham)
The sms that I received from my colleague Kavitha read "Mallesh has expired. He omitted blood". The message was sent half an hour past midnight; I got to read at 4:50 AM sharp. I was shell shocked. Mallesh and I used the same elevator and exchanged "bye"s as I headed home last Friday. As I mechanically did the routine things and Yog watching Astha, I could not believe on what has happened. I just did not comprehend on what has happened. Not to disturb my other colleagues I sms them on our plans, I mean to attend his funeral. My colleagues respond within an hour and company car comes to pick me up early in the morning to take four of us colleagues to Nagamangala, some 120 kms from Bengaluru off Mangalore National Highway - Malleshi's village - to where the body was shifted early in the morning.
As we drove through the highway which is being four laned, we keep silence and weep mentally. We are men, we are not supposed to weep. But all of us wonder on why this has happened and how it could happen. All the way until we reach Nagamangala town in Sugarcane belt of Mandya destrict.
Mallesh who I saw overnight back is a corpse now. His body retains the freshness of his face. I see an elderly woman weeping inconsolably; a young woman in her mid twenties with two little kids on her laps crying and a hundred odd villagers waiting for the burial to happen. Soon, his body is lifted and moved to the 4 ft deep trench and covered with soil. Overnight rain might just have helped the process.
Mallesh was all of 31; little elder than me. He came to our office though third party as an attender and used to keep our office clean. And serve us water, coffee every morning and snacks and juice in the mid afternoon. Daily. He might have got some 3000 rupees from the third party man power supplier and did not have PF or any other benefits. His widow works for a garment factory that has been laying people off (acc to him) and the elder son is barely 7. Younger daughter is 2. Both did not comprehend on what has happened that night in Bengaluru. Some good Indica taxi driver agreed to bring these three with a relative + Mallesh's body that fatal night back to Nagamangala.
After a week, his memory still haunts me. All the time. I get up midnight. And ask what has happened. My question never gets answered. I pray for peace of departed soul and strength to his family members. My 20 odd colleagues from Bengaluru branch have agreed to chip in some monetary help for his family. That will not be a big help. But some help, for the time being. I shiver as I think about his family's future.
How ephemeral is this world? We buy things for that I, we seek pleasures for that I and yet that I will depart within no time when the time comes. Without wondering about parents that gave birth; wife that bore two kids.
Is it really worth of dancing to the tunes of our "I"?
(I consider I as aham)
