My Parents, My Life

As an adolescent I might have been the greatest rebel.
I was always strong by nature. I had strong views, strong opinions and a strong get-up. I loved living life my way. If anyone tried to tell me what to do, I hardly ever listened.

Of course, these traits tend to have their disadvantages but I do believe in hindsight that they have their advantages too. You need to have a head on your shoulders when you go through life. In order to have a balanced head you need to think for yourself and not be biased by what you are told and not told. Or otherwise.

My rebellious nature was probably one of the things that worked for me, even if it didn't work for the people around me.
But everyone has their moments and everyone tends to grow up. Trees mature. Flowers bloom. It's the art of nature.

Today, 27 years into my exciting and event filled life I suddenly wonder. Would I have been the person I am, irrespective of my successes and downfalls without my parents?

So many of the world's children grow up without a parent or both in some cases. I've always felt for them.
Because, no matter how far my work takes me and how much money I earn, I can never be complete without my parents.

At the end of every day, I can always breathe a sigh of relief because I know if I ever need something or can't handle a situation my father and mother would be right there, beside me. Ever ready to drop everything and race toward me.

How many people would do that for me? It's one of the bittersweet truths in life.

Every day before I sleep I know that I can rely on something, on someone. And that is the single most, greatest assurance of this life.

It's enough to agree - my parents are my life. Without them, I'd be anything but me.

Even if it's not a Romeo-Juliet kind of Love Story

As an army wife, a new one at that, I tend to still struggle with getting used to the constant change and new surroundings. For someone who craved stability yet adventure, this sort of gypsy life seemed interesting yet a tad bit tedious too. But, without the cons how would we identify the pros, right?

A couple of weeks ago my husband, a Major in the Indian army was nominated to go on a UN mission to the Syrian-Israeli border. Unknown to most of you, the Indian Government does send Indian army officers on various UN sensitive missions, all around the world. I guess that's India being at it's diplomatic best, to some extent. 

When he broke the news to me, ironically on his 33rd birthday (in December last year), I took it in calmly. I was in Bombay at the time, visiting friends, family, my old life. Maybe that's why the sudden impact of it didn't hit me quite as hard.

Siddhartha always expressed a keen desire to go on a UN mission. The greatest drawback of marrying an army man is their intense love for all things potentially dangerous and extreme. He always has claimed that paper work and desk jobs are not his thing. Give him his tanks and gun sack and he'll be more than content with life.

At first I was happy because it's what he always wanted. I mean, what is the point of being in a relationship if you can't let your partner grow? Or just simply do the things they'd rather?

If he was happy, who was I to take it away? 

Between December and today we spent a lot of time apart because he had to constantly travel to get things in order for this mission. We hardly got time to really talk about the next step. Which was, leaving each other, to live alone for the entire duration of the mission - which is a little over a year starting anytime now.

I got so involved in work that I didn't realize how quickly time just flew right past me. Until today. Until this moment.

I chanced upon a news article in a famous French journal :

http://www.lemonde.fr/proche-orient/article/2013/02/24/le-photographe-francais-blesse-en-syrie-a-succombe-a-ses-blessures_1837952_3218.html

It's about a young French photo journalist who recently passed away after being severely wounded while covering the Syrian conflict.

They say, it takes a sudden jolt or event to make you realize that you were unconsciously fighting something within you to begin with. 

Siddhartha and I have our good times and great times. In the middle of it we definitely do have our bad times too. But today, after all these weeks of getting used to the idea of him not being around I realized how hard it all is going to be when he finally does leave.

He is my husband after all. We may not have a Romeo-Juliet kind of love story, but we do have something. Why else did we get married. Relationships are not about perfection or striving for it. Maybe that's where we start making the mistake.

Attachments happen, over time. At some point of time we all get attached to small things, certain people, maybe even an idea. It becomes a part of us. 

Tomorrow, or the day after or when he finally gets the order to leave for the Syrian-Israeli border, will I be happy? I don't know. I can't tell. We've spent every waking moment of the last 3 years together and the time before that getting to know each other. However, I do believe that you can never really get to know someone. We all change with time, with experience. With life. 

At the end of the day, if I think about it, I sadly realize that it is not about getting used to him not being around as much as it is about his safety. The current situation in Syria is far from stable. And when you are legally bound to someone who wakes up so far away from you, it can take every emotion away from within you. Wouldn't you think? It's more about knowing everything is going to be alright, which in this life we can never be sure of.

As the one whose left behind, I can only hold onto the thought of hope. 

It doesn't matter if ours is not a Romeo-Juliet kind of love story. There's still something there after all. 

Goodbyes were never supposed to be the best part of anybody's life.

The doting eyes of pure, pure love

In this life, this modern age of failing relationships, flings and casual affairs, it is extremely difficult to find pure love. Maybe that is where we all go wrong. We look for something that isn't there anymore.

Since time immemorial,  Love has been the single most deadliest emotion that has brought people to their feet and probably broken every hope or dream they had, even if only for a short phase of their life. Of course, on the contrary Love can also give you new highs...but in reality does it ever last?

Today, this very evening. I experienced love. Or rather, what it should be and isn't.

The Regiment my army husband is from hosted a small get together this evening for a young woman who was married to a Regimental officer of the unit. The officer lost his life in a severe road accident, 4 years ago.
As fellow unit members, everyone bled to hear of the loss, all those months ago. Everyone felt immense sorrow and pain. But a rule of nature states and I strongly stand by it, in times of sorrow, pain or happiness...you cannot even begin to imagine what is going on in the victim's or his and her supporters or family member's minds. You can only empathize but sadly that is just not enough.

This young woman wanted to dedicate a small trophy to the Regiment in her late husband's honour and that is why she was visiting the unit today.

Today, as the young woman tried to speak about her deceased life partner, her eyes welled up. Not with sorrow and pain. The tears were tears signifying so much more. When you speak about someone you love who isn't there anymore, it isn't sadness after all this time. It's regret. It's a nagging guilt. It's an emotion that we haven't been able to name yet. No, humans identified what pain, grief and sorrow was. But they haven't identified this feeling...this feeling of loss, of love, of remembrance,  of anguish, of wanting and need all meshed up together.

How easy is it to be a widow in your late 20's with a small child after all?

And then, as I observed her tears and heart give way, I glanced across at her father who had accompanied her for the painful task of visiting a unit that once was her home when she had her husband with her.

Her father, who stood quietly at the other end of the room looked at her with the care and concern, the worry and pain only an understanding parent and doting one can have. Those eyes looked at her when she wasn't looking just to see if his daughter would be alright. But we all know, she is far from being alright.

Those eyes, that secret glance, the strong image of a full six foot man just checking to see. Those doting eyes of pure, pure love. That is what we all aim to have and often have but can't see or often never get and won't ever.
Because, somewhere down the line we forgot what it is like to really care and love along the way.
It's not about love anymore. Everywhere we go. We look. But love...real love...it hardly exists even if it does.