P S SUNDAR'S ARTICLE ON HIS SON -- 8::
THE
DAY WHEN MY COMMUNICATION FAILED
BY
P S SUNDAR
Communication,
written and oral as also body language had always been hailed as my
strongpoint. Being a faculty of many institutions, international
and domestic, I deliver a lot of lecture on varied topics. Being a
prolific writer in media, not a day passes without my article appearing in some
publication or other. So much so, replying to many people who want
to know what I am doing, I have said, “Talking or writing is what I do ..
reading and listening to strengthen these!”.
But
then, there was a day when I could not talk what I had to say... And, all I had
to say were just three words .. they were words of truth, ground reality and
embodiment of an irrevocable reality...
So,
it was a case of being in difficulty to utter not a lie but truth.. a truth so
hard to digest despite years of mental preparation ..
These
three words came up to my throat every time I had to mention to my contacts but
they failed to raise above that stage at ease, got swallowed in sorrow and
forced me to exert a greater effort to eject them from my throat.
In
the Indian epic Mahabharatha, Bhagavad Githa enjoys a special status for the
communication skill of Lord Krishna in making a confused Arjuna clear in
mind. In the other epic Ramayana, Hanuman excels in communicating to Lord
Rama the truth of his having sighted Goddess Seetha in Ashok Vanam in Sri Lanka
for which He is hailed as ‘Sollin Selvar’ (Master of word).
Both
these epics, however, describe the verbal numbness a parent undergoes – a
scenario diagonally opposite to these communication excellence .. and that
happens when a parent (father or mother) witnesses and passes through the
saddest moment of his/her child (son or daughter) dies.
Irrespective
of ‘Poorva Janma prathipalan’ (impact of previous birth) concept of
explanation, ‘Puthra marana Dhukkam’ (sorrow on child’s demise) causes
communication failure.
And,
in my case, the three words I had to say were ‘My son died” .. this day (Oct
21) 12 years ago.. when our son, Vignesh, left us forever to a destination
beyond our imagination at an age of 16 years...
(response can also be sent to: pssundar.coonoor@gmail.com)