I was surfing net on my mobile and keeping a watch of the backyard of my house where some clothes were hung for drying. The sun and the clouds were playing hide and seek. Rains were intermittent, therefore the watch was needed. My mother, from her adjacent room, was regularly reminding me to keep an eye outside. For more than a couple of hours I continued with the task. In this damp and moisture laden atmosphere, the clothes were taking longer to dry up. Meanwhile, mom called me for some assistance and as I left my chair and went to her room, the drizzle started. I ran outside to remove the clothes.
I told mom that this was the norm. So long as I was keeping the watch, it didn’t rain. As soon as I was out of sight, the raining started, as if it was waiting for me to slacken the guarding.
I told mom about one of my uncle who used to tell me about the same issue while boiling milk. He had noticed that whenever he waited for the milk to boil so as to turn off the gas before the milk spilled, he kept waiting. It was his experience that the milk refused to boil as long as he waited and kept a watch and out of impatience or exasperation when he turned his attention away to something else, the milk boiled and spilled out of the pot creating a mess.
My mother smiled and narrated the incidence of her first delivery i.e. the birth of my eldest brother when her father i.e. my Dadu had a similar experience.
It was in 1953 my mother went to her native village, her father’s village for the delivery. It was the norm those days. My grandmother and grandfather made all the arrangements for the smooth delivery. There was no hospital and hence the arrangements were made at home. Dadu built a separate room in the expansive courtyard for the delivery complete with a wooden bed, bedroll, clay pot for drinking water, dry chopped wood for heating the room (needed after the child birth) and enough space for two midwives who would help delivery.
It was early October. The most celebrated festival of Bengali community, Durga Puja was just days away. My mother was praying for the delivery well in time so that she could participate in the festival. It was also the harvest season. Dadu was a school head master as well as a keen hardworking farmer. His farms were miles away from the house. So he had to depart to oversee the harvesting by staying in his farmhouse for couple of days. But he was postponing the departure. It was the first delivery of his second daughter. He wanted to have a smooth, safe and incident free affair. He also wanted to be present at home so that he could help calling for assistance in case of need. Unlike these days, the date of delivery could not be ascertained and hence the period around which the delivery may take place, in about a week’s time, only could be guessed. Dadu had made arrangements accordingly.
For Dadu it was a difficult time. It was very urgent for him to oversee the harvesting. At the same time, he was eager to be present at home when his grandchild borns. The midwife was being called every day to check the expected date of delivery. She checked for two days consecutively. On the third day morning, the midwife was called again but she could not say for sure. Dadu was now a bit restless as his labourers were sitting idle for want of instructions. In the afternoon, Dadu called one of his students to remain at home in case of any emergency and left for his farms, though very reluctantly.
Late at that night, mother went into labour. The midwives were called and mother was shifted to that special room. The night passed and at about 8.20 am, on the first day of Navaratri, my eldest brother was born. The news reached Dadu by midday and before sunset he was back. He was mockingly furious at the newborn. ‘He would be a thief’, he cursed, ‘I waited for so long wasting my time and harvest and this guy sneaked into my house in my absence.’ Of course, all these was in lighter vein. He was happy and had a sigh of relief as everything went well.
It happens regularly in our lives. We all are impatient habitually. Everything takes it own time to occur. Nothing can really be hurried up. Our lives would be more enjoyable and trouble free if we realise this fact. Alas! It is easier said than done.
The Contradictions 