My Good Old Friend

A few years ago an elderly man dressed in a white kurta and dhoti rang the bell of our house. He was a farmer and was looking to take up an assignment of maintaining lawns and gardens. Incidentally the gardener who was associated with us had become extremely irregular and had not paid a visit since several weeks. Infact he had completely vanished, rendering the two small gardens  in our home precariously poised. My Father had deep interest in gardening and therefore it was more than imperative for us to keep the gardens in good shape and hence  this senior village simpleton appeared  a God sent help.

Nageshwar was his name and he hailed from a small village some 25 Kms from our place. He had cycled all the way in search of work. We quickly agreed on the remuneration without any negotiations. The humble Nageshwar just shook his head in the affirmative every time and so began our association with him.

He came across as an extremely hardworking man. He visited  every Sunday without fail, be it the heat of summer, the pouring rain of the monsoons or the cold frosty winters. He was there all the time cycling 50 kms to and fro. His commitment to his work was truly phenomenal and considering his age ( he was well over 60 ) his involvement with the job on hand was exceptional. He maintained the gardens beautifully and they started looking better than ever before. Seeing the way he worked my respect for him grew all the time.

I couldn’t meet him often but he always asked for me and whenever we did meet I got the opportunity to know a bit more about him. Nageshwar had a tiny piece of land which he worked on and grew crops. He spoke about his family at length and his innumerable struggles in making two ends meet. He also spoke about a buffalo he possessed and how helpful she was to the household. However, he never complained or grumbled about his life and very merrily went about his work. He loved to talk and I really enjoyed listening to his village dialect. Many a times I would purposely engage him into a conversation to listen to his style of speech. His humility and simplicity undoubtedly were the virtues he strongly possessed and I always looked forward to meeting him.

As the years went by, Nageshwar became an integral part of our household with his amazing dedication. However he was not growing any younger and as age began to catch up with him, he started having  health issues. Though initially they were irregular but then he started having problems on a regular basis. Cycling 50 kms was tough on him and so he resorted to other forms of transport, but never missed to visit us. Whenever I asked him what the problem was, he just said that he didn’t feel hungry and was losing appetite. I wasn’t sure what kind of medical attention he was receiving which worried me, but I thought he would recover and that there was nothing serious.

For a year, his illness and his short recoveries continued cyclically, but then just a few days ago I got the news that he had suddenly passed away.  It was like an unexpected jolt. Nageshwar was no more. I was not going to see him again or hear him speak nonchalantly. I was not going to experience his warmth and goodness any   further. I  struggled to hold back my tears as my throat went dry and my heart pained.

Over the years gone by, I had developed huge respect for Nageshwar. The old man was high on values and principles and there was an affectionate streak about him. There was nothing in common between us except the fact that we were fellow human beings and shared a great bond of mutual respect and affection. We had an amazing relationship and his  passing away is indeed a loss to me.

Nageshwar’s life and the way he went about living it is a lesson in itself.

RIP …My Good Old Friend.