Acha - My tribute to you!

Either we talk of the world famous M-I-L, D-I-L squabbles and quarrels, or we wonder how this duo make life heaven for the sandwiched man. Rarely in a marriage there is any mention of the person called the “father-in-law”. If at all, it is very limited. Or there is quite a bit of character assassination that this particular role goes through. So, when I got married, I too had very less expectations from my own father-in-law.

My hubby and sisters called him “Achan”. And, I followed suit. He was a man of few words. I had attributed this to the facts that we did not know each other’s languages and he must be a closed person. And hence, I don’t think I made any attempt to strike a conversation with him in the initial stages. As I write this post, my eyes are getting moist. If God took away my father at a very early age from me, I did not realize, He had given me this F-I-L who was multiple times what my own father would have been!

In the first 2 years of my married life, his role was very limited. He was staying in his hometown. So, we used to meet only once in 3 months. He would ask cursory questions and we would get on with our chores. Very gradually, I started building my rapport with him. I saw him cleaning the toilet one day and was quite surprised. He had come to visit us for a week then. As soon as he came home, he looked around and started the cleaning process. I did not expect him to clean our toilets as well!

Just while I tried to put this across to him struggling to explain this in his language, he kind of gave an understanding smile and said “You both are working. It is our house. We should not see dignity of labor. It is ok. I must be of some use, after all!” All this my hubby translated later on. I was moved. I started seeing the principles behind this man!

My first son was born and I needed support in raising him. So, my in-laws migrated to “our” house. We, in this generation, the supposedly highly-educated, computer savvy, IT folks do not see most things at face value. Our analysis-paralysis gets applied at the home front too. We are actually meek-minded and we think there are calculations behind every step that people take. We don’t spare our own parents and in-laws also from this suspicion. We cannot think straight. We are used to reading between lines. Simply put, we are not simple…but a bunch of simpletons! What else do you call people who keep sensing hidden agenda behind every move?

I was one! But time taught me (though early on) how sacrificing and selfless my in-laws were. The kinds of sacrifices that they made just to ensure I continued with my career are truly immeasurable. All my guesses about them were absolutely wrong. I was put to shame by their generosity and large-heartedness. Now, I am not sure if I would be saying “they” had it not been for a person like my F-I-L.

Every time there was a tiff in the house, every time my M-I-L and I fought, argued, cried, ranted, my F-I-L was the referee. He would be so just. He would command my M-I-L to shut up. That gave me great pleasure. He would advice me in a very kind tone. He would take me aside and tell me, “You are highly educated (!). You are seeing so much in the world. Your M-I-L is totally ignorant. She knows nothing but the four walls of her house, her only son (my hubby), her two daughters, her husband (in that order). And hence there is no point in making her see reason or rhyme in any kind of a dealing. So, it is better that we decide whatever is good for the family. There are families where the M-I-L & D-I-L cannot even see eye to eye. Fortunately, you both bond very well otherwise. These are trivial things. Can you not just ignore and get on with life?” Now, how would one react to this kind advice? He has never raised his voice even once. But he has always made me see what is right and wrong in a very logical way. He has been extremely patient in handling 2 strong women, both of different ages and groups, very successfully. The family engine was well-oiled by this NLC foreman, who was not a great academician but a sound rationalist and abundantly well-read person.

Not only between his wife and me, he settled scores between my hubby and me, he ensured both his daughters lived a normal life with their husbands. He used to take the right examples and explain any tough concept to one and all at home. Such was his wisdom!

When we try to contact an electrician to fix a fan, he would resist. He will sweat it out and fix it himself. If it was a plumbing problem, he will ensure he sets it right. Some carpentry to be done? He would be right there with his tool-kit. Garden is shabby? Don’t know where to put what in the garden? He was the go-to person. Child not behaving properly? Ask Achan. He will know how to handle. Problems at work? Check with him. He will know what kind of action can help. He was truly a “one-stop-shop” solution for all issues at home.

No one would believe that he had 3 huge ailments – BP, Diabetes and Asthma. He was so active till his last day. Yes. For a man who had been suffering health problems for more than 40 years, the single biggest medication was practicing Yoga and Meditation. Every morning he would perform this yoga/meditation for an hour. And then only have his morning tea. Such discipline is rare to find! Whenever his health goes down, we would recommend we see a doctor. He would decline. He would say, “For such small disturbances if we end up seeing doctors, there is no point at all! Let me treat myself with home remedies.” He himself would tell us when it is time to get to the doctor. And that will be when he cannot take it any further. He did not want us to spend our time, energy and most importantly money on him. There are times when we have feared the worst. But he would pull out all his IV fluids on day 3 and tell us, “Let us not help the hospitals become richer. Discharge me right away.” The next day morning you can find him doing his yoga-as-usual!!!

May be this confidence and conviction that he had about his own health is what made us laid back?! He was active till his last breath. Last week, as ill-luck may have it, while he was all alone in Kerala, he had breathing difficulties and an elevated temperature. He visited the doctor as an outpatient. He called us on a Sunday and said he is getting worse. We could only tell him that he had to get admitted. He did after much pleading and persuasion. He suffered for 2 nights and 2 days in the hospital. The 3rd night in the hospital he passed away peacefully! While we were still traveling to get to his place and be with him as moral support, he did just what he believed in. He did not make us run around. He did not allow us to spend on his medication. He did not stay bed-ridden for even a day. He was moving about till the last day. As we were told by our relatives who were attending on him, “Even when we got him to the ICU, he got down from the stretcher and lay down on the bed himself. He did not expect help.” What do we call this man? Is it an exaggeration to say he was my best friend, great philosopher and unassuming guide?