It was the grief circle, and Mrigank Singhal was saying “You have just lost someone; you can either grieve about the person, or smile over the time shared with the person. Or you can do both,”
Kangana wondered what she was doing here … her mind kept drifting to the night of 30th December. The events had started before, when maybe the 26th the last day she say Kamlesh.
He had come to visit Keeya, their daughter, with a Christmas cake.
“Why you brought this we are not even Christians?
“The prisoners who I go to share the Lords word, they gave it to me,”
“Because they love me,”
“take it back” Keeya had yelled, ”You have time for those people, you have no time for us.”
“They love and respect me,”
“You have to earn respect, nobody will respect you just because a father, or son” Keeya had retorted, before she banged the door and stomped out.
“Is this how you brought her up, she does not know how to talk to her father’ Kamalesh had lashed out at her.
How could she tell him, that having an affair with your son’s classmate was the best way to loose any respect the children had for him. It was the morning of 30th,
“Ma.. Baba is not responding to my calls, its two days since i am trying to contact him.” That was Kunal’s call.
“Ma.. Baba wanted me to change those shirts for him, but when I call him he does not pick the phone.”
Well then came Rajesh’s phone from Sholapur all enquiring about Kamlesh. Kangana was annoyed; it was not as if she knew of all Kamlesh’s moves, after all they had been living separately for four years now. The fifth call was from Kamlesh’s mother, when Kangana was out on a drive with Nomratha they had decided to drive and at every cross road, they tossed the coin, if it was heads they turned right if was tails they turned left, the idea was they would just see where the day took them.
Kangana got off the car at Nomratha’s place and took her scooter down as she crossed Campal she thought she would take Kamlesh to task for not responding to calls.
The lights of his flat were on; she went up the stairs there was waft of some odour coming.
She rang the bell, banged the door, but the sound of the TV drowned it all.
The best option she thought was to burrow the spare key and open the door.
“Aunty, Kamlesh is not opening the door, can I borrow the key.”
“Maybe he does not want to talk to you”
“I would have been okay aunty but I am getting faint gas smell. So let’s just check it out”
Reluctantly Florie aunty the eighty year old land-lady gave her the key, ”Baigo, kosa, ticha baroobar vas ge ” auntie commanded Kosa her maid.
When Kangana opened the door, the stench was terrible, Kosa opted to stay out, Kangana made her way to the kitchen and on the floor was Kamalesh with maggots eating his face, the hot plate burnt out, the television ranting.
Kangana sat down for a minute, collected herself.
She called the cops, Kosa over heard her calling the cops,
She then called her friends, sent messages to the children, three deep breathes, suddenly something snapped within her and tears flowed out,
To the Kangana was not sure what the tears were all about, their relationship had gone through the worst, they stayed separate, she was willing to divorce him as long as he assured her security for the children. But the tears did flow.
She wondered how did one answer a question like this. Mrigank’s question has either come from a place where he has just lost someone, or he is romanticizing a loss. She remembered her conversation with her counsellor, grief had to go through its cycle.. There would be denial an absolute refusal to accept the loss. There would anger directed to the person who left. This would alternate with depression until the person is willing to move on. then there will be bargaining, this could be with anyone, from God, to therapist there are people who bargain with themselves. Finally there is acceptance and resolution and the person begins to put their life back into order.
She heard the group out; she knew she had to this by herself. She had got over the anger, and depression and denial. She was willing to accept the reality of the mess and move on. the truth of it, he had move on, she had stayed stuck she had frozen thirty years of her life
ps: grief circle is a circle where we practice healing grief. .The group meets once a week. If you are interested you can contact either through a DM or as a comment on this blog.