PAJU
Nothing feels better on weekend than catching up on the sleep that you were deprived of on weekdays. It was already 9 and I still was in no mood to get off my bed. Sun’s rays were mercilessly charring my bare skin through the window and reluctantly I pulled the curtains. Guess what is the first thing people do as they open their eyes? Yes, you are right, I happen to also shamelessly follow my narcissistic instinct and check my Facebook.
One of my friends was lucky enough to catch glimpse of Pope in Vatican, another one was posting selfie next to a volcano in Vanuatu which made me realize my mundane picture of my breakfast was not going to cut it this time. Eff that, at least it is better than those baby pictures and people complaining about their soccer team’s loss. While I skimmed through the feeds and overly aggressive advertisements, something caught my eyes. It was Obituary for my uncle, who was battling with liver disease in hospital for some time. I never saw that coming.
Oh boy, it was going to a nostalgic ride over the memory lane. He was one of my favorite adult when I was kid, who would pamper me as much as possible every time he visited us. I remember he used to buy me Gems chocolate everytime. Eff that skittles and M n M’s, you got nothing on Gems . I don’t recognize you guys. I also remember I used to bug him to get calcium pills, so that I grow up tall. Well that plan did not work so well and I am still waiting to grow up in my late 20s. Those childhood memories were not present in those Facebook feed but ever forever engraved in my heart and mind.
As I grew up older, our interactions were limited due to various constraints but still every time I would visit Mamaghar, I was happy to see him. But as I matured, I felt something about him I was never able to explain or come in terms with. He was a full blown alcoholic. He was very much a charismatic person and also well educated. He somehow never managed to finish his M.B.B.S. in India and later worked in some pharmacy and finally handled other family business of shoes and accessories.
He could start intelligent conversation with anyone and everyone liked him. He was really merry maker but he had to drink every day. I never understood his need to drink. Growing up, I saw him get married and have two beautiful daughters, but somewhere deep inside I felt bad for his family. As euphemism, I would like to say, he was not very responsible person. Every time I would enter his shop at evenings, he would be drunk and his staff would be making fun of him at times. I also remember, out of embarrassment sometimes I would go to meet him in morning, as that was only time he would be not intoxicated, well maybe hangover. The world “down” always meant something very different for me. Over the years, I saw his situation spiral down, and by the time I was old enough to realize there was something seriously wrong, it was already too late. My Maiju did pitch in, did her best to try to get him back from his habit. He would have period of abstinence and again relapse. And with each relapse, it only enforced that my Maiju was losing this battle. She found somewhat solace with Buddhism.
How could someone with such potential be hell bent on destroying the fabric of the family itself with a stupid habit? To start with I am not sure if he actually even wanted a family. I am just guessing people must have assumed he would change once he is bound by responsibility. But it was not to be.
My memories of my Paju is very paradoxical one, as I have image of very cheerful man in my head who was always sad for some unknown reason.
