So my readers can clearly see now that
our marriage was like a house under
constant construction and each year we
saw the completion of new rooms, new
space and new developments. Of
course, our first year of marriage may
have been only a tiny cottage but it
grew into a huge and rambling mansion
in half a century. This was named
BASERA, a nest.
There were some crannies and storage
spaces, some of them dusty and
abandoned, some containing a few
unpleasant relics, we wished we had
not found, but all of these were not any
big things to give us any undue
headaches and worries. We either threw
those unpleasant relics out or took
them to our goodwill and made them
pleasant.
In reality, our marriage was a good one
with a lot of rejoicing, many pleasant
moments and an eventful experience
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that gave us joy and bliss at all times.
We took our marriage as a balancing
act and we were always dependant of a
high tolerance for irritation.
As Stevie Winwood song says “You have
to roll widdit, baby.” So all our married
life we learned to roll along and enjoy
our family life as best as we could.
There are no regrets and we have been
fully content. If anyone asked us to
wish for any more happiness, together
we would have said loudly, “What more
would we wish for when we had
everything we wanted!”
This was our blissful expedition and we
loved every moment of this joyous
journey. We found that it was more
blessed to give than to receive. We gave
our all to each other and to all our
loved ones and received the best from
each other and everyone.
This was the true love story of Saroj
and Lakhan from February 14th 1959 to
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March 14th 2013 and it would keep
moving on this romantic path forever.
I have been creating these poems at
least one a day from the day I said my
final farewell to my beloved wife Saroj,
My Pretty Lotus. This creativity has
given me some energy to move on with
my life. This creativity will continue
until I live or until I can do it sensibly.
Our final home at Bellbowrie was the
last and final home or our aashiyana
we constructed for us. This place
afforded us mements of privacy and
romance that we found so vital to our
own well-being. We learnt to appreciate
the beauty, goodness and truthfulness
in every inch of this place called our
home, our Basera, our Nest.
A man is sometimes unable to fully
understand a woman and her feelings
but the two of us; we were different
because we could talk about everything
and anything with care and control.
She was a wonderous storyteller and I
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would listen to her very intently for
hours enjoying each exciting tale. I will
miss all these.
There were times when she firmly
believed I knew all her thoughts before
she spoke them and that she also knew
all my spontaneous reactions, thoughts
and comments as the only man she
loved. We always understood each other
and our words as clearly as the blue
summer sky and our thoughts as
interlaced as the strong nylon twined
angler’s net.
I loved her very dearly and I never
wanted to see her unhappy but she did
become
unhappy
and
somewhat
frustrated during her final days of living
because of her untreatable ill health.
That was our life and now I am alone
and lonely but her soul has merged
with mine to keep me going as long as I
possibly can maintain myself.
We loved, we laughed, we worked, we
went for many rides but by being
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Love Is Fire Love Is Flame
together for fifty-five years, we created a
unique unity of our heart and soul to
let us grow as a loving and
compassionate couple. These aspects of
our life are very hard to let go.
However, now without her knowing
what I should be doing and my actually
doing it is proving very hard, fearful
and painful. So I keep praying to God
Almighty to erase all my fears and pains
and replace my worries with trust in
myself and in the Supreme Power.
Then I know I have to join her
eventually, My Pretty Lotus but we may
be dwelling in different abodes. Then
my relief would wash over like a spring
rain.
If all these feelings and emotions are
part of my dream then I do not ever
want to wake up. When the heart aches
and the pain of the loss of our
treasured and precious treasure hurts
then the words spill out like water from
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a toppled jug to become creative
composition.
All these make a lot of difference to the
total healing process and I am glad that
I have used my time, talent and effort to
reflect on the fond memories of my
pretty lotus, my beloved wife, Saroj.
Yes, my Saroj taught me many things
but the one lesson I treasure the most
is the quality of mercy. She could recite
the
poem
of
Shakespeare
so
meticulously that I would be totally
mesmerised by her presentation.
Mercy has always been better than
pride for me ever since her first lesson.
People will say they do things with
which you will take umbrage, but it is
always better to err on the side of
mercy.
“Mercy gives, where pride takes,” said
My Pretty Lotus.
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In my various creative moods am I
brooding because it is often said
that brooding was for melancholy
poets not for men like me who
have actually accomplished a few
good things in their life. When
there was ever a problem in front
of me, I always liked to throw
myself on top of it and wrestle it to
the ground and never brood about
it. Why should I brood now when I
am
poetically
eulogising
my
beloved wife?
What was her age when she
passed away? I think it is such a
pity that she left us so very young
at 72 and a half. I have found that
one seems to understand what one
is really made of as the years pass
and
experience
brands
us.
Consequently, my learning is a lot
healthier after her departure
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because I am able to reflect on
many of her admirable human
qualities.
There is too little time to make use
of what we learn, since the time
simply
disappears
from
one
thought to the next, and then one
passes away itself. However, do
these experiences really teach us
anything at all? They have been
educating me in various ways but
it is hard to explain.
I now think that not everything
that can be counted, counts any
more for me, and what is more,
not everything that count in my
life can be counted that easily. I
have lived long enough to amass a
wealth of many painful regrets but
multiple fond memories. There
were some odd moments in my life
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that sounded like the hive of bees
was poked with a sharp stick to let
the sweet honey makers sting me
deep to leave an unbearable pain
and stress but I had the stark
motivation to move on with my life;
thanks to intervention of My Pretty
Lotus.
After one loved one passes away
we all have to travel alone and I
am now doing exactly that very
reluctantly. I think another’s
experiences may touch us, and
may be, teach us a lot more about
ourselves. I am learning more now
than ever before in my life. Love is
like war, easy to begin, hard to
end. In my next life I do not want
to love and do not have kids.
Firstly, love hurts when it is lost
and secondly, kids ruin your life
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by being takers, takers and takers
all your life rather than wise givers
for your happy living. When I am
given the opportunity to rub all
memories of my life and start
afresh again, I would love the life
of a hermit. This sounds crazy but
only life experiences give you such
odd feelings.
If I did not make these comments,
I would not be expressing my
internal thoughts into truthful
words. So for the people who are
reading these heartfelt comments
should reflect on all the pain,
suffering and hardship I have
endured all my life. There are
regrets. There is joy. There is
repentance. But I am content. Let
me go and rest for a while till I
collect my courage to go on.
Ram Lakhan Prasad.
136 Dr Ram Lakhan Prasad
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137 Dr Ram Lakhan Prasad
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