Aham Brahmasmi

What is the measure of a man, I sometimes wonder. Is it how fiercely he loves or how selflessly he lets go? Is it how he behaves with his elders, peers or someone who can do him absolutely no good? Is it how he tackles challenges or how he talks about himself? Is it how he puts mind over matter or how much of himself he can give? Is it about how much of his ego he subjugates or how many lives he touches? Is it how he treats women or how humble he is in victory? Is it how he handles power or how he stands up for his beliefs? Is it the reassurance of his being or the legacy he leaves behind? Whatever it may be, the only thing I know is that the only way I can ever measure up to my father is through height. A biological happenstance that has led to me being of the exact same height to the best man I have ever known. In every other measure, he was, is and will always be head, shoulders and an universe better than me. I only wish I could have been a better son.

Yesterday, I completed one year of being in Calcutta. Flew down from Bombay in June last year, amidst a bit of a crisis at home. A lot has happened since then. A LOT. Maa contracted Covid and had to be hospitalised before recovering, Baba left us without giving us a chance, I took the call of relocating back here and found a new job, Baptu dada helped out immensely in moving my stuff here, Mashimoni-Mishti-Deb all contracted the virus and recovered, Shejomamu left us and we couldn't even be there, and something that had been building for years ended in an emotional cataclysm. Oh, and these are just a few. It has been a tough year, but I realise that it could have been much worse. Like it has been for countless others. As I have grown older, I've tried to cut down my regrets, to let things go, to forget and forgive. Perhaps, the one regret that I am battling with the hardest right now is that baba isn't here anymore to see me working in Calcutta. But, life goes on. Because, ...

What makes a grown man cry? Is it a sudden upswell of genuine emotion, is it the sudden emptiness of having someone close being taken away, or is it something else? All his professional life, my father used to work for the West Bengal State Government , in the Audit and Accounts Service for the Education Department. For a few years, in the early 2000s, he was posted at Jalpaiguri Government Engineering College . Yesterday, a junior of his (who is still posted there) reached out on his mobile number, after having wondered about his unnerving silence from the 16th. I attended the call and broke the sad news to him. We spoke for half an hour post that, and the nearly-60-year-old man broke down in tears multiple times, as he recalled what a wonderful, honest and inspirational mentor figure my father had been for him. He kept saying again and again that he had never met anyone else like my father - so honest, so responsible, so encouraging, so compassionate, yet so humble - and that baba ha...

"Those we love don't go away, they walk beside us every day. Unseen, unheard, but always near. So loved, so missed, so very dear." You are missed every single moment, Baba. Your warmth, largeheartedness, and genuiness in a frigid, selfish & hypocritical world. Maa and I know you'll be watching over us, for that's how you've always been. We just hope that we can make you happy.

I miss you, Baba. I so, so wish I could see the smile on your face again, hear your approaching footsteps before calling out to me, serve you tea in the morning, check if you've had your medicines and go to sleep every night knowing that maa and I are under the shelter of the strongest pillar in the whole world. I hope I can make you proud one day. And I always, always wish you peace and happiness, wherever you are.

  Ashis Kumar Mallik, 13.09.1954 – 16.09.2020 . Maa & I miss you every single moment. I'm trying to control the tears, but they seem to have a way of their own. Wherever you are, Baba, I hope you are at peace. Thank you for teaching me the meaning of honesty & integrity, of perseverance and patience, of practising what you preach and finding joy in the little things. Thank you for the many sacrifices you made, neither the magnitude nor the worth of which I will ever be able to repay. For me, Kipling's lines - " If you can keep your head when all about you / Are losing theirs and blaming it on you, / If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, / But make allowance for their doubting too; / If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, / Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies, / Or being hated, don’t give way to hating, / And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise " - have always been about you. I hope I can always keep you alive within me. And I hope ...