Chaos

I am writing this blog just days after my grandfather passed away. Strangely, this isn't really a blog about his death. It's about a question I've been asking myself for months: do I actually like chaos, or do I just use it to avoid being alone with my thoughts?

He lived a fulfilling life. But to his son, my father, it is still an unbearable loss, and it makes him very sad, although my dad is trying his best to keep everyone around him happy by making constant jokes. 

Life lately has been so chaotic that I don't even know where to start! I am divided between so many things, and I complete none. I am surprised how fast life changes.  

I don't feel alive till there are 10 things I am doing or thinking about at any given moment! It could be work or personal. I lived in such chaos that there was literally everything I ever needed within one arm's distance of me, so that I never had to leave my desk. 

At first, I loved it, super productive, but gradually, it became depressing, I was almost always sad, sleepy and low on motivation. All I wanted to do was lie on my bed and scroll through Instagram reels. 

On the other hand was my grandfather, a man who loved to make the best out of everything, loved to live and was super organised with a system for everything. 

Even though he had an imperfect life, he did not let it shape him. 

He never stopped living, which was his superpower. He loved my grandmother a lot, walked holding her hands always, helped with all the household chores, and did things exactly the way she liked them. And then when she passed away many years ago, he looked unfazed. We were all expecting him to drown in sadness, I guess we were wrong about that! I am sure he was in a battle within himself, but he still kept going.

To give you another example, my grandparents openly loved and favoured their older son, my uncle, more than my father. Which my grandfather has agreed to countless times himself, too! So things like sending him a lot of money, providing him with better resources than my father during childhood, were a thing. Even to their sons, between my cousin and me, there was a lot of difference. But to my surprise, even my uncle's passing away did not affect him! He followed his routine like usual by the second day he was back to his normal routine.

My dad recalls that when my uncle was on his deathbed, he asked my father to take him to the Ganges for a holy bath. He did the puja, got up and said, "Okay, let's get my son back on his feet." He did, he got his liver transplanted, which gave him 7 more years of life. 

He was very organised, even in his 80s, through almost 90s by a year, he helped with all the household chores, he did not have weak eyesight, and was very careful about what he ate and when. He was also very up to date on all the recent trends, news and a hobbyist. 

Anything that I bought for myself, he had to get it for himself too! This is what kept him active, being aware of everything that was happening around him. Even after retirement, he did not allow his brain to get dull; he kept it occupied everywhere he could. He managed my funds in the stock market, he kept track of all the news, he researched multiple subjects, and he always knew what groceries we were about to run short on. 

Even the smallest of things, which we had like a rubber band and a piece of paper, he used them to mark the current date on the calendar. At one time, he even had chickens just to get fresh eggs every day. 

People call him selfish, but he did what was best for him, if we put it like that. Which is the complete opposite of me. If there was one last chocolate left in this world, I am sure he would not tell anyone about it. 

In my mini 5-year career, I have said I am stressed so many times, to which my dad always says that my grandfather never once said that he was stressed, even when he was the general manager at BHEL. He used to single-handedly manage all the vendors with all the inventory in his head. Even in his last days, he used to do day trading with all the stock prices and analysis done in his diary and newspapers. (He wasn't very comfortable with the mobile apps I had him download.)

He spent his life creating systems for everything. I spend mine creating chaos. Yet somehow, he seemed happier than I do when left alone with my thoughts. Maybe that's why I keep coming back to the same question: do I really like chaos, or do I just use it to avoid myself?

I am writing everything I can recall about his life so that this can serve as a reminder for me when I want to better my life. Even though I am trying hard to articulate my thoughts, I am unable to right now. I did not cry, but an unknown void and sadness are in me. I wonder where he is now, and what creative stuff he is doing there. 

May your soul rest in peace, Dada Ji! I have never seen anyone live their lives better than you.