A Time for Gratitude

 

Celebrate endings - for they precede new beginnings! 

This year has been like no other, in more ways than one. As the year comes to a close, it seems to be a good time for reflection and introspection. The corona lockdown was an unavoidable measure to fight the onslaught of the virus and arrest its spread. At first, I found it suffocating, I didn't know how to spend my time indoors. I was terribly saddened by the cancellation of my visit to be with my grand children. Time, as they say, is a great healer and now I have come to enjoy the slow and relaxed pace of life, doing especially all that I enjoy the most.

My childhood was marked by an absence of story reading, not story telling. Every night, my grandmother would narrate stories and like the proverbial thousand nights, they would continue the next day. This is how I learnt the stories of the Ramayana and the Mahabharata. I loved to read my school text books. I also remember the two books I received as gifts as a child, Life with Grandfather and Karna. I might have been in class 7 or class 8 when an elder cousin whom I really adored, got me a gift for my birthday. Looking forward to an Agatha Christie, I unwrapped the gift to find : Autobiography of a Yogi. To a twelve year old, there was no greater disappointment and that one book almost erased all my affection for him. In high school, my history text books were a delight; History of India by N Mukherji and History of India by V. D. Mahajan where Political and Cultural history was interspersed with anecdotes and interesting asides.

I had really very few ways of getting books. Buying them was a luxury those days. I read my father's old collection of books. And then, I used to borrow from the school library or from friends. However, I was very eager that my children should read books. Although reading was never his hobby, their father got them the best and choicest fairy tales, from all over the world, all of which I have preserved till today. As they grew older, I took them, every Friday to the Devanand Lending  Library, an iconic second hand book shop in Bistupur, Jamshedpur. And my children really enjoyed reading the books they got there. They remain ardent readers till today. I still remember the little impromptu jig my younger daughter put up, on finding a book she had set her heart on, Children of the Willow Tree Farm by Enid Blyton. Though I would also issue a few books myself, I never really got much time to read. 

Still, from time to time, I did read books, more out of guilt and less out of interest. My children soon flew the nest and sometimes they would bring in the books they had got and I read them too.  But it was only after retirement that I have gone back to reading in a passionate way. Somewhere along the way, my reading tastes changed. I did not enjoy fiction, they appeared contrived but Non Fiction held a special attraction. Memoirs and biographies, travel and politics threw up something new everytime. 

During my visits abroad, I was very happy to see the number of books my grandchildren got to read, from their local library and from school, both of which provide easy access and a continuous supply of books, suitable to their ages and interests. My elder daughter, still reads regularly, and is a member of two reading book clubs. She took me to the local library where, for the first time, I read  books on the best seller list. In India, for the reader, there are books but they still come at a price. 

I will always remember that evening when my daughter placed the copy of the book Women Rowing North, in my hands. My reading buddies had suggested, the book as a sort of self help guide.  As she was leaving for work in the morning, I wondered aloud, if she could get me that book from the library. I gave her the name and waited for her message. None arrived, and I was sure they had all been issued. The pleasant surprise came in the evening. I must confess that the  book made a significant change in my attitude and here I record my immense gratitude, first to my daughter, Varsha and then to Mary Pipher for having written it.

I can't thank my younger daughter and son in law enough, for the gift of an iPad. It was the oldest version and she wondered if I could use it. Earlier, my daughter had gifted me a Kindle Paperwhite and for the first time I enjoyed reading ebooks. I had  never used an iPad and it took me a while to get technologically savvy but I'm proud to say that I finally learnt enough to be able to download books. The covid pandemic opened up new and free esites and I made the best use of them . Today I own a personal collection of titles. The latest to be added are books by Indian authors. All the books I've read this far have been enriching and very satisfying. For this I convey my gratitude to my younger daughter, Megha and her ever thoughtful gestures.

Yesterday, after one such session, I was unable to open the pages of the new book I had downloaded. To my consternation, the books I had downloaded previously also appeared blank. This was enough to shake me up. It was lunch time and my husband was waiting for me to join him. No way was I going to leave my iPad with all those books in white!  I wondered if I had inadvertently tinkered with the settings, googled for answers and just keep reading about trouble shooting. Soon I discovered that I had too many pages open on my iPad. As I closed them one by one, my books sprang back to life and I went happily for lunch, and indulged in an extra helping. But my husband had been waiting for me and I'm grateful for his support on that day and all the days of my life.  I have done something which took a long time in coming, that which I'm going to do more often, express gratitude and thanks, for just being there. 

But how can I close without expressing my gratitude to my circle of family and friends, with whom I've always looked forward to sharing my time! I have reconnected with my school friends on WhatsApp and if not for anything else, I must thank The Flock of Seventy four, for deluding me to believe I may still be that silly school girl sometimes. They  come up with new ideas of remaining connected; posting photos or names of favourite books and movies or simply zoom chats, or even birthday wishes!! No event can bypass at least sixty responses! Every effort and skill is abundantly appreciated . What I look forward to the most are the good morning waves and wishes.

They remind me of Pippa's Song by Robert Browning:

  The year's at the spring,

  And day's at the morn;

  Morning's at seven;

  The hill-side's dew-pearl'd;

  The lark's on the wing;

  The snail's on the thorn;

   God's in His heaven;

   All's right with the world.