We human beings take great pride in mankind’s evolution. We build the best houses,we make the best cars, and we possess the best mobile phones. We have made giant strides in science and technology,and harnessed time and space with our inventions, for the benefit of mankind. But amidst all this,it is good to remember,at least occasionally,that there is an unseen force in our lives.Some call it fate,others call it karma,and so on….I choose to call this force destiny.
I believe that we human beings are all,at best, children of destiny ……or at worst, its puppets.For all our professing that man steers,or charts out his own destiny,there are times when destiny comes calling,and occupies the driver’s seat in our lives…sometimes icognito. It may be in the form of our births,untold riches or a financial setback,securing a plum job or having a long stint of unemployment, being trapped in a bad marriage, or an unexpected accident,or the death of someone close.And then we have no choice,except to ride on, hoping for the best,……. or drift along in pain…….as this true real-life account of Chintoo(name changed),his mother,and his(biological) father illustrates.Please read on…………
Chintoo was a babe-in-arms,when he first came to his maternal aunt’s house .His maternal aunt and her husband were our neighbours in Mumbai.I,and my sisters were in college then. Chubby-cheeked and a toddler, he immediately bonded with my mother,and later with our whole family. His mother,or sometimes his aunt,would drop him in our home early morning,and then our family would take turns to feed,or cuddle,and baby-sit him till late evening. And he would respond with joy and innocence,typical of children.Children are always a pleasure to be with,especially if you bond with them early,before they develop ‘stranger fright’ symptoms.They bring into the world of adults around them a natural sense of life and laughter.Chintoo’s mother,Parvati(name changed)was a young woman in her early thirties.Chintoo’s father was nowhere in the picture.
Slowly,the story unfolded. Chintoo’s father had been an Accounts Manager in the Ministry of Defence(Government of India),Uttar Pradesh.While his mother was ‘carrying’ Chintoo,his father had become mentally unstable,and lost his job.Parvati’s family,then separated her from her husband,and brought her over to Mumbai, where she gave birth to Chintoo.
Time passed quickly.Chintoo was now five years old.Chintoo's maternal aunt and her husband felt that Parvati needed a companion,and Chintoo,a father.Parvati had not thought of a re-marriage.But she was only of moderate education up to high school level,and finding a steady job with her qualifications was difficult, even in those days.Whatever income she got through odd jobs like darning and tailoring was not enough for her,and her child’s long-term sustenance. She also did not want to be a burden on her relatives.Besides,she had Chintoo’s future to think of.Reluctantly, she agreed for an alliance with a widower,who himself had a daughter aged nine. It seemed a win-win situation,for everyone given the circumstances.Chintoo would get a father,and the nine-year old girl a mother.The marriage was a quiet affair,and after the marriage,the couple and their children departed to a village in Gujarat,where the man had a garment business.
Off and on, every one or two years,Chintoo,and his mother would come to Mumbai. He was going now to school,and was growing up fast.But I could make out that he was unhappy.He now had a younger sister too,on whom he doted. But his father(unknown to him, his stepfather),remained lukewarm to him.There was not much I myself,or the other members in our family could do in the matter. We knew the truth,but Chintoo was still not aware of the real reasons,or that he had a biological father somewhere,who had never even seen him.
And then for many years,I did not meet Chintoo.The communication revolution of mobile phones had not set in then.It was an era of letters and landlines. Whatever information that came forth about him was through his maternal aunt,our neighbour.
Then, one day,Chintoo turned up in Mumbai to meet my mother,who was recovering from a major orthopaedic operation. He was a young man now. Had he completed his graduation? I enquired. No, he said, his financial situation had not been congenial for the same. His step-father had made losses in his business,and post-haste he had to take up a marketing job in a private company.
We spent half a day chatting in the hospital compound.There were a lot of things to catch on.I asked him as to where he stood with his father now. He told me that his father was as lukewarm as ever, though his own take on their mutual relationship had changed.How so,I asked. He told me that he had realised that his present father was his stepfather .I looked at him,somewhat curious now.He then told me that he had come to know through his mother that his biological father was different .I asked him, whether he knew where he was now. He told me that his biological father had now fully recovered from his earlier mental condition,and was now living as an inmate in an ashram in Uttar Pradesh.Did he not feel like meeting him? I asked. He surprised me,by admitting that he had already'met' him.
He had gone and occupied a hotel near the ashram,where his biological father stayed.From there,he would observe his father,moving around the ashram,daily for a week.Did he talk to him,I asked. No,he said.He had been told that his father never knew that he had fathered him.His mother had to reluctantly leave his father,while his father was not in a lucid state,on the insistence of relatives.Getting introduced to his father,as his son at this juncture,now,would perhaps be traumatic for his father, especially when his mother was another man’s wife.And even otherwise,what useful purpose would it have served,after all these years,beyond unlocking painful memories? His feelings had been mixed,he confided in me,when he had first seen his father.There was the initial sense of awe,and wonderment,and identification,he felt, but it was also all very surreal,confusing,and painful,…… seeing his father,for the first time,after so many years,and helplessly looking on,a part of him wanting to meet him, introduce himself to him,talk to him,hold him close,bond with him,.and the other part of him,worrying about the probable negative consequences.Well,I told Chintoo,after he gained his composure,the past is past,but at least ensure from now on,that your father is financially secure,all his life.That is the least you can do for him now,I advised.And he concurred.And left.
I have not met Chintoo for many years now.He seems to have drifted away.His maternal aunt, and her husband moved house,many years back.The cell number he gave me also seems to have changed.But whenever Chintoo comes to mind,I reflect on the occurences in his life.
Several thoughts come to mind.What would have been Chintoo’s father’s thoughts,after he became normal?Would he have missed his wife?Would someone have told him that he had a son in her? Should Parvati have had waited for her husband to get well? Should it have been disclosed to Chintoo at all that he had a biological father? Should Chintoo have introduced himself to his own father,after having gone all the way to meet him?What would have been his father’s reaction then …….? Would Chintoo have been more focused in life, and on his goals, had he had a normal upbringing? And many more related questions …….But no easy answers here.Life,I feel, is too complex,for us ordinary mortals to be judgemental about it! For,as I mentioned earlier,I believe that we are all,at best children,…….or at worst,puppets of destiny.
