Sorry
Quite a lot of us use the words, “Thank you” and “Sorry” so frequently and mindlessly, that the real meaning of these words is lost.
Normally, when we say ‘Thank you’ to another person, we are actually trying to express our gratefulness, gratitude, heartfelt usually, show someone that you are pleased about something, for having received some favour or something, or to someone who has saved yourself of some trouble of going through what you ought to have undergone. (Am I becoming a bore? Unless, I get a feedback of some kind, favourable or otherwise, I may not understand how you people are receiving this).
However, the usage of ‘Sorry’ is more here compared to ‘Thank you’. Most of us just avoid even from saying a simple ‘Thanks’ even when it is essentially required. Is it below one’s dignity?, I wonder! We feel that it is a word wasted for the other person’s effort (or for that matter whatever it was for).
Well, to offer my comments or criticism about others, I should be perfect in the first place. Shouldn’t I be? Well, being almost as old as an ass, I sometimes wonder whether it is too late or whether it isn’t; and whether I have (any) sufficient time left. Whatever the answer, you people may keep your fingers crossed about that.
Friends, if you are beginning to feel bored already, I advise you to kindly skip this blog and move over to another blog, which might sustain your interest – and if that too doesn’t, you can always return to this.. I’ll be gladly waiting.
My parents brought my uncle, back from Pune, who was gravely ill. He had remained a bachelor. He had served the army in the clerical wing. Having grown up on Hollywood movies and the like, I had soon found myself a mentor in him. I learnt a lot from him. Right from reading books – he always stressed that I read books/novels with a dictionary beside me; to movies. He was a voracious reader, usually preferring to read ‘Time International’. He had a strict diet with a little rice and a couple of chapattis, and a small plantain - every day, every meal. He still did his routine exercises daily. His problem: he was suffering from Parkinson’s disease.
Just in case you are unaware of what it is, I have taken some information from the web. And I hope that it presents to you a picture about the illness: the part of the body affected usually trembles when it is not doing any work, and normally subsides when the person begins an action are its symptoms. This is followed by rigidity or muscle stiffness, the inability to flex the muscles. The people suffering from it tend to get stuck to the ground and will find difficulty in starting to walk. It is basically a degenerative disease of the brain that affects the nerve cells involved in movement. It cannot be treated, but the symptoms can be controlled with medication.
I frankly do not know about the correct statistics of the number of people suffering from Parkinson’s in India, but I knew that the disease was bothering him a lot. It is kind of, like, you know, your limb movements become restricted, more like your limbs get stuck. With the help of someone, say, a careful soft push, you start moving around. Sometimes, it is pathetic to see the person unable to move. Being a very sensitive and soft person, (I know that I am not supposed to self-certify, but with no one to do it for me, I have taken the liberty of using the comments that my close friends have observed about me.. and please do not ask me if it is true.. I’ll say, you find out for yourself!) I have often times watched him (my uncle) stranded half way, unable to move.
With no effective medications available, we managed to trace out a replacement for the medicines he had: a tablet named ‘Sinemet’, from an Italian company. Though, it was a bit costly, the results from the medicine were quite impressive considering his condition earlier.
But there was the age factor too, right? He was old and easily susceptible to common colds and fevers. As the years passed by, he began having edema, swelling at his feet due to the collection of body fluids. Soon he had to have someone help him to bend his body and help him do the minimum exercises, yoga; depend on someone, even to help him out of the bed.
When he was ill and bed-ridden, he used to call every 5-10 minutes to help him shift/turn from side to side. He was so restless, feeling so painful, the numbness of the limbs adding to the misery. It was almost kind of irritating. During the nights, I was getting a very troubled sleep. The constant calling of my name “sendhi, sendhi, sendhi...” was getting on my nerves and beginning to drive me crazy; and on one instance, I harshly barked at him “What?”
He just uttered “SORRY” - so simple yet with much anguish and I could see the tear forming in his eyes.
I had never, ever felt so ashamed in my life. I felt as if I had been slapped in my face. As if publicly embarrassed. Since that day, I had never held back myself when I had to be there for him. Only then did I understand the true meaning of the word.
He is no more now. But whenever I think about him, the incident strikes a painful chord in my heart; still wonder how such a simple word could make one cringe with shame - and makes me ponder about the way we take the word “sorry” so much for granted.
posted by senthil @ 11:18 AM
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