How My Father Lost all Hope and Then Rediscovered Diwali
Sangeeta’s 87-year-old father gave in to the despair of Parkinson’s – till he lit a diya ahead of this Diwali.
I have never really known my father to be a religious man. He has never been one for the ceremonies that surround, and sometimes take over, a religion. Yes, he would participate in them – but more because he was asked to, not because he initiated them.
For ever so long, I have known him to wake up in the morning, sit cross-legged on the bed and pray. When I have asked him, “What is the prayer you say”, he would respond with, “I meditate.” On my trips to visit him at my sibling’s homes, he would light a diya and agarbatti (incense stick) every day after his bath.
So when I brought him to Delhi, I created a small place in his home with a couple of photos and idols, thinking he would want to continue with his prayers or at least with the ritual of lighting an agarbatti and diya. But he didn’t. I kept asking him why till one day he told me that he wanted a photo of Thirupati Venkateshwara (our family deity).
Given that I am not a religious person, it took me some time to find a photo for him. He still would not continue with his prayers or lighting a diya and agarbatti.
Forgetting the Joys of Diwali
On this weekend’s outing, we talked about Diwali. He loved the decorations, especially the sparkler exhibit. He insisted that I get a snap of him smiling in front of the exhibit!
So I thought it was a good time to see if he would want to go back to praying, or even just lighting a diya and agarbatti every day after his bath.
He patiently watches me as I clean the mandapa and photos, and lay out the diyas and agarbatti stands. He listens to me intently as I tell his attendants what to do. And then...
Me: “Anna, I have set up everything so that you can light a diya and agarbatti after your bath. It’s 10 days to Diwali. You should do this every day.”
Anna, with little interest: “OK.”
Me: “Anna, why have you lost interest in doing this? You used to be so regular.”
Anna, giving me a sideways glance: “What is there to pray for now? Nothing can change. There is no need.”
My heart stops.
I don’t have the heart to ask him why.
I don’t have the heart to tell him that it’s OK if he doesn’t want to pray.
I don’t have the heart to tell him I will put away the mandapa and paraphernalia if he wants.
I don’t have the heart to ask him to pray for no suffering and an easy end.
And then, yesterday morning, he lights a diya and agarbatti after his bath. I think he does it for me. Because I told him to. Because I put in the effort to set things up for him.
(After working in corporate India for over 29 years, Sangeeta has taken time off to look after her father, who was diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease in 2008. Sangeeta hopes that these authentic stories will help patients and caregivers understand and appreciate the impact of Parkinson’s Disease. You can follow Sangeeta’s blog here.)
Related Links in the Series
How my Father, the Parkinson’s Patient, Aced the Spoken Word
The Story of How My Father Learned to Swim
From a Real Life Piku: Looking After an Elderly ‘Child’
Dealing with Dependence: A Daughter’s Tale of her Father
What Happened the First Time My Father Visited My Office
Forgetting the Taste of Muffins
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