Remembering My Father the late Bishnupada Mukherjee on his birthday
25th February, 2024
The days of turmoil lasted several centuries all over India. From the eastern region, particularly among the Bengali speaking people, emerged a class of people, who became hybrid bringing both the East and West into their homes. It brought with it much confusion and unpredictability in human behaviors and the choices they made. There was both a search for the highest truth and a sense of guilt around one’s identity.
Raja Rammohan Roy, the great social reformer, along with others notable among whom was the Tagore family, shook the social fabric of the society. These emergent leaders became open to all kinds of prevalent ideas filtering through newspapers and the printing press, in those times. The below article speaks volumes about the state of mental and spiritual confusion that our ancestors went through.
The lowest of the low are not affected by the turmoils of global changes. They are the sheeple as they are termed these days. But there were a lot of hurt sheep and I believe my father was one of them; very much.
Those inclined to gain knowledge and seek a better understanding of their surroundings, also risk being swept by currents that they never learned to muster. Looking back, it was the case of several millions of the baby boomers in the interwar period of the two great wars as well as, the aftermath that followed in the political platform. Most were thrown into a state of groping into the abyss of darkness in their entire lifetime.
There was an unstoppable dance going between Western and Indian education systems. The forces of duality were the most prevalent norm, of looking into the environment. The world had yet to come out of the fear syndrome. People in this age lacked emotional intelligence largely. They failed to perceive the world from a distance without involving the self. Those who had the inner calmness were often misjudged and misunderstood, even within one’s own immediate environment. Toxicity was roaring around threatening to devour everything around.
I remember my father with great awe and respect for being born in these very difficult times and managing to live out successfully, a life devoted to his career. The world was different and the support systems that one relied upon as a lifetime prop, were also fast eroding. The pain and misunderstandings are now very distant, thankfully! All I remember, is the great compassion my father had towards me, when my mother rejected me outright as a girl child. He demonstrated his affection in little ways, until I was ready to go into regular schooling at the of 6.
I have deep gratitude for his mindfulness and affection towards me. He was patient towards my mother, while he mindfully encouraged her to accept me through little gestures whenever he had time from his busy schedule at work.
My father’s own life was also a constant battle of choosing what was right for him and his family in an era that was fast crumbling. He had to navigate through numerous tugs and tussles in a family of eight siblings and extended family members, which numbered to around thirty at that time. They all needed to be taken care of. I have nothing but deep admiration for my father and remember all the wonderful things that he did for us.
He loved gardening and we had the most beautiful garden created and maintained by him with the help of a gardener. He also loved music and in his college days; he tried his hand at string musical instruments. He also loved reading and had his own collection of books on varied subjects. Medical research was something he was naturally inclined to.
Dining out was fun for us, when my father took us out to enjoy fine dining every month. Very few families did that, in our town those days. Things are vastly different now in India. It was a small town and it got empty soon after sunset. Our car would purr through the darkness and take us to my dad’s favorite eating places. He wouldn’t tell us where we were heading. We ate Chinese, North Indian and South Indian food. We learned to enjoy food from different parts of the world from a young age. This happened somewhat at home as well.
My father encouraged us to take interest in learning to sing through private home tuitions and did not mind when we went out after school to play with others in our neighborhood.
I remember my father with deep love, gratitude and respect this day, the 25th of February 2024 more than ever before. He is now in a much better place enjoying great peace and rest, free of all inner turmoil, which seemed to have engulfed him completely in his last days.
World Without Walls 
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