Now I can go in peace

In the entire 38 years of my life, I have very little memory of 'living' with Dad.  The divorce in the early 80's between Mom and Dad happened at a time when I was too young to comprehend the gravity of such events.

It wasn't until the year 2008 till an opportunity presented itself for a small albeit important family reunion of sorts. I remember the entire episode vividly and down to the last word. Dad had recently undergone a Heart bypass surgery and his live-in partner had to leave town for a few days to attend to some personal matters. The Doctors had made it clear that at any cost he was not to stay alone. Such situations had presented themselves before and on most occasions, he would stay with one of his Brothers i.e one of my Uncles. This time something was amiss. He had mentioned to me sometime back that he didn't to be a burden on anyone so he had decided not to stay with anyone. He was happier alone. The feeling of discomfort was very evident on his face. I didn't bother asking him if anything went wrong between him and his siblings simply because it wasn't my question to ask. Dad and I had that kind of relationship. We were always there for each other but we lived our own lives and didn't pry into each other's. I did ask him a question, though. And it took him totally by surprise.

"Why don't you stay with us (Mom and Me) until she comes back?", I asked him as directly as I could. He looked at me. Then he looked away without uttering a word. I repeated my question, "Dad, why don't you stay with us?" He looked at me again and this time he spoke, " No, No, No, I can't do that. What will Sheila think? It's been far too long. I don't know how it will turnout". I said, " There's nothing of that sort. Just come!" . He wouldn't have any of it. Then, reluctantly and hesitantly, he said " Why don't you speak to her once? Don't tell her you're here with me." , I smiled and waved my hand sideways, " No Dad, I will dial the number, you talk to her". He froze for a second and then vehemently refused. " It's much too awkward for me, Olly. If she says no, I won't be able to handle it". " She won't, I can assure you of that",  I confidently replied. "How do you know? Have you already spoken to her about this?" He asked. The hope of an affirmative reply was very evident in his tone. " Nope, how could I ask her when it's you who needs to. I'm dialing her number now, talk to her". He sat next to me nervously as he heard the phone ring. "Hi, bolo!" was Mom's typical response whenever she answered my call. " Yo Mumzee, I'm sitting here with Dad! He wants to have a word with you", I placed the phone on Dad's palm. " Hello, Sheila?" he said softly. It was the first time I heard him speak so softly. Over the years, Mom and Dad had maintained a very cordial relationship. We had celebrated all birthdays, auspicious events together despite they being divorced. He was particularly worried about Mom after my Grandmom had passed away. She was, after all, Mom's pillar of support. After her demise, he made it a point to check on her every now and then. Sometimes he would drop by with fruits (he was brilliant in choosing the best fruits), sometimes sweets, sometimes just like that.But rarely did he speak so softly.

"Hi Shravan, how's it going?" She replied in her usual chirpy yet commanding voice. "I'm good, how are you?', he replied. She said she was fine and went straight to the point as only she could, " You wanted to have a word with me?" she enquired. "Umm, well, yes! I did. Olly and I were chatting. As you know, I might have to stay alone for a few days but my Doctor has said I shouldn't...".Before he could complete his sentence, Mom interrupted " Shravan, come home and stay with us as long as you please". He went quiet. He was too stunned to react. I gave him a victorious smirk. " Are you sure, Sheila", he asked in disbelief. " She said, "When do you want to come?", was her answer. " I'll come tomorrow morning, and thanks so much!!!"

I told him I'd pick him up in the morning and left with a grin on my face. I knew my Mom better than anyone else, and she knew him as well as she had 3 decades ago. AS I left, at the door, he asked me," I hope I'm not going to be a burden on you two".  I said " See you tomorrow morning, Dad"

The next morning, he was ready. I've always known Dad to be very punctual. He was dressed in his usual Lacoste T-shirt and casual trousers. Not a crease on either. He had his bag packed along with a small handbag. "My medicines," he said patting the side of the bag. The drive was very short as he lived only minutes away from our place. As we took the elevator, he seemed a little nervous but he composed himself. It had been nearly 25-years since they lived under the same roof. Surely, this was a moment for both of them to be nervous. If Mom was nervous, she never showed it. The previous evening, she and I discussed what we needed to be in place for him. She seemed fully aware of what was in store for us and seemed least hassled or worried.

When we entered our home, she gave a big smile accompanied by a very friendly "Hi". I think that moment was priceless. He smiled back and said "Hi" but the relief was more than abundant on his face. He was home. He knew it. We ushered him into his room and saw to it that everything was in place. We left him to unwind in 'his room' . Shortly, he emerged from the room and joined us in the living room where Mom and I were having a casual chat. He joined in and we continued chatting for hours.

The next three days, we would laugh together at some of the ridiculous things each of us experienced. He would frequently invade our DVD library and ask about movies. He would take charge of a lot of things including giving tips on how to cook only to be admonished out of the kitchen. I remember him being very appreciative of the food he had and even more so because Mom would cook especially for him. And she did it happily.  They did talk abut certain incidents that widened the rift between them but they did so as mature adults. Mom was particularly dismissive of many of these incidents. Too much water has flown under the bridge, she would say. He felt guilty and often wondered why he wasn't so mature.

Three days flew past. He grew more and more relaxed, He would often enter the kitchen and make tea for Mom in the evening, sit and cut onions at the table, iron his clothes and volunteer to iron my t-shirts as well. He would hum some of his favourite songs by Rafi and Kishore. He would always take his plate into the kitchen and wash it himself much to the chagrin of Mom and Me. He would come out of the kitchen and grin widely saying, " I'm used to cleaning my own plate".  On the eve of the third day, late in the evening, after a phone call that he received, presumably from his partner, he came out to the living room and sat with us. "I'll be going back tomorrow!". Mom and I looked at each other and then looked at him. She smiled," Okay".  We continued to chat till it was 10pm- his bed time.

The next morning, he came out of his room.As always, he was dressed in his trademark attire - A lacoste t-shirt, casual trousers, usually beige, and neatly ironed. His bag had been packed along with the handbag. The three of us took the elevator down to the parking lot and as he sat in the car, Mom said " You know you're welcome to come and stay at anytime". He smiled and gave her a hug. No tears, no melodrama, no fancy words. Just a hug. He sat in the car and waved out to her and said ' Thanks a lot, Sheila! I'll always remember that." We drove out of our apartment complex. The journey was ,again, short. As we walked into his apartment, I placed his bag in his room. It was time for me to go to work. As I was about to leave, I asked him " Dad, why don't you move in with us? It was so much fun having you around!" He smiled and said, " Olly, I only needed these three days with Sheila and You. Now I can go in peace." I never really comprehended what he meant to say. Little did I know that just a few months later, he suffered a stroke which sent him into a coma and eventually took his life. Had I known, I would've probably forced him to stay back. But that is the glorious yet tragic uncertainty of Life. I know he lives on in our hearts but those three days will always remain the most cherished memories I had with him. 

All hail Simba -The King of the Jungle

'Rule Number 1: If a Lion wants to kill you, then it doesn't matter if you're inside a tent, he'll find his way in. The tents are strong but they wont withstand a Lion attack', said Saad Bin Jung in his typical nonchalant way during our Day 1 briefing. His company - Africa Under Canvas, is dedicated to providing travelers the ultimate experience of Africa and its wilderness. But what do I do if a Lion does come close enough to my tent for me to freak out?, I asked him rather anxiously.   'Stay in the tent no matter what happens. Don't do anything stupid and keep your movements to the bare minimum. If you're lucky, he'll just walk away!!!' , were his clear instructions. Right! Got that! Shouldn't be too difficult to follow such clear instructions. When I checked into my tent, I noticed a long but blunt blade was kept by the bed. A weapon, I guessed. Not sure how useful it would be but I sure as hell wasn't dying to find out.

Except for the first night, my four nights at the Ndutu Plains of the Serengeti were rather peaceful. The first night was all about acclimatising myself to the wild and weird noises of the Jungle. Insects, Birds, Hyenas; make no mistake, the Jungle is teeming with life throughout the night. I had a hard time falling asleep as the slightest brush against my tent would have me clutching my blunt weapon. Could it be a Lion, after all they are known to be active during the night? Could it be a Hyena? A Zebra, maybe? Wilderbeest?

By the time it was morning, I was convinced that half of the Serengeti had paid me a visit. My fellow campers were quite amused but not surprised by my pithy narration. I felt deprived of an adventure when Saad's son, Shaaz, summarily dismissed the entire experience by saying ' Relax dude, there weren't any Lions, Hyenas or any other animal at the campsite last night. It was only wind'. If this was what wind could do to me, then I shudder to think what a REAL visit from a wild animal could do!!! And I didn't have to wait long before that happened.

 After spending four nights at the Ndutu Plains, it was time to move camp to the Grasslands of Seronara. Dramatically different from the plains, the Seronara region of the Serengeti is popular for Leopard sightings and of course, Lions. At the briefing, it was reiterated to us that the grasslands form a perfect setting for ambush attacks and that we were never to go to or come from our tents unaccompanied. We were also reminded that just a couple of weeks ago, at this very camp, a pride of Lions surrounded the campers in the night while they were dining out in the open. The camp was to be disbanded the next morning so the crew started dismantling some of the tents the previous night. The dinner tent was one of them. It was, apparently, one of the scariest moments in their lives as the Lions closed in one by one from different directions.  They were chased away by the Guides who managed to sprint across and into the cars. Lions don't like the revving of engines and tend to run away when they hear it. The Guides chased them far enough for the camp to be safe for the rest of the night. As a safety measure, however, the cars were parked right in front of the tents. If the Lions returned, the cars would be just a few steps away.

Since then, there were no visits from Lions that would become a hot topic of discussion until that night. At around twilight, while being accompanied to my tent I asked one of the locals if there had been any Lion sightings near our camp in the past day or two. He gave a gentle smile and said,'This his Jungle, he come, he go when he wants!' As I sat alone in my tent, I looked around as the Moon slowly but surely made its presence felt. I said to myself, yup, this is his forest alright. We are the visitors, and hopefully, it'll stay that way.  I couldn't help thinking about how we humans have decimated life on this planet.

 At dinner there were some entertaining conversations with Saad, Shaaz, and some of the other campers. Saad is a very knowledgeable man who has great experiences to share. From being a prodigal talent which led him to make a memorable cricketing debut against fast-bowling greats like Malcolm Marshall, to his battle against a life-threatening illness, to his drastically different tryst with destiny as a  Wildlife conservationist, to his blue-blooded family lineage, Saad can keep you both engrossed and entertained for hours. A couple of hours later, I tucked myself into bed after a sumptuous meal (Potato and Peas curry! Indian breads! Rice! What else can one ask for!!!). I was recollecting the events of the day as I fell into deep slumber.

At approximately 1.30am, I was woken up by a deep-throated growl. It was emanating just a few feet away from my tent.At first, I decided to disregard it. A few seconds later,the growl returned. This time it was louder and closer. I didn't dare move or make a noise. I knew  by now that this most certainly wasn't the wind. We weren't alone. Something was out there and it was quite big.  I held my duvet tightly. Surely, this wasn't what I thought it was. Maybe it was a Leopard. After all, this camp-site was known more for Leopards than Lions. Leopards are shy creatures. Lions are not! I consoled myself by believing that my 'Leopard' would go away. The growl returned, and this time it was followed up by some pretty intense heaving. Nope, definitely not a Leopard. It had to be The King of the Jungle. And judging from the loudness, he was probably less than six feet away.  The deep-throated growls returned along with some more heaving. Beads of sweat started  to form on my bald pate. Does he know we are here? What is he going to do? Is he going to make his next move against us? Is he alone? Is he calling his other pride members?  I couldn't see him as the tent's window was rolled down on the outside. The fear was killing me as much as the suspense. The fear of not being able to see what is going to happen next. A part of me wanted to just run out and get into one of the cars. Stay put!!! and DON'T MOVE!!!, I decided. The growling didn't stop, Neither did the heaving.

For a full two hours, the King of the Jungle made himself comfortable just outside our tents. Morbid thoughts crossed my head. Would I meet my end here? Will he go for my throat? Will I be able to outsmart him? All the mantras I had ever learnt throughout my life were being chanted repeatedly. It was amazing how I remembered them in the first place and it didn't matter if the order of the verses were jumbled up. I somehow had to stay calm. The growling and heaving was getting louder and louder but there were no screams or reactions that I could hear from the other tents. They all knew he was here and they remained dead silent. And then, it was quiet. The growling stopped, as did the heaving. I refused to believe that he had left. What if he had not? I decided that for the rest of the night, I would continue to remain as still as I could.

I don't know when I fell asleep again but I was woken up by the intense need to empty my bladder. It was still quiet. No growling, no heaving. I lay motionless in bed for a while just to be doubly certain , and then I crawled very slowly to front of my tent and unzipped it. My toilet was about 5 feet away in another tent, and although the two tents were covered by a large sheet of canvas making them look like a single tent, stepping out would make me vulnerable. I peered out to scan for any signs of activity. Nothing! He was gone!!  I tip-toed into the toilet and let out a huge sigh of relief. After all, my bladder had been full for over 4 hours now.  I crawled back into bed and fell asleep again. A few hours later I awakened hearing voices outside my tent, I knew that the guides had gathered to discuss what had transpired in the night. And amidst them was Saad and Shaaz. As soon as he saw me he quickly moved towards me and asked if I was okay. I nodded affirmatively. And then he asked me if I heard the Lion last night. I turned to him, and the look on my face said it all.

Later on, at breakfast it was revealed and confirmed that the King Of The Jungle had sauntered solo into our camp site. He made himself comfortable just outside the tent which housed Saad, Shaaz, and Ali-Saad's business partner. He was just two feet away from entry of their tent. While Saad managed to get a glimpse of the large male Lion, Ali woke up startled when he heard the growl for the first time . He quietly reached for his air-gun in case things got out of hand. During the course of the meal, it was revealed to us that Lion growled and the heaved to call for the rest of the pride to join him Thankfully, none of the other Lions came. Saad, Shaaz and Ali admitted that this encounter could have ended far worse when compared to the pride that encircled the camp a couple of weeks ago because this was happening just two feet away from them! And six feet from me.

I'm sure that this incident will stay afresh in our minds as long as we live. The King probably knew that we meant him no harm. It could easily have gone out of hand had one of us lost our cool and done something rash in a rush of adrenalin. It's the closest I've ever been to the possibility that I might not survive the night. I'm glad I did and I will forever be grateful to him for his magnanimity or whatever it was that led him to spare our lives. All hail, Simba - the undisputed King of The Jungle!!