As a country, we need to acknowledge the armed forces, the soldiers who live in them, and their families a lot more than they are doing. And I don't mean not just when someone dies, like my Vasant did.
In a sense it is even harder on the children, but I would say it all depends largely on the woman's make up. I would say a lot of our families are single-parented. And in crisis, I think it is up to the woman. I mean if I were totally shattered, walking around the house constantly in tears, crying, moping, it will rub off on my children, no? Without my strength to draw upon, they will miss their father even more. But if I am strong, and can stay strong, then they have me, they have that strength to draw on, to help absorb their loss, and I think that is important.
I am not saying it is easy -- actually, the hardest part is, you know what? You can explain to kids, even young kids, that your father has gone away, that he is somewhere in a dangerous place, that we don't know when he will be able to come home and spend time with us again. But the day you have to explain to them that this time the separation is permanent -- that is hard, that is so awfully hard, I cannot describe it to you what it takes to have to do that to your children, and what it takes out of you as a mother.
Every night, since this happened, the last thing I tell my children at night is 'Your dad loves you' -- every single night I have told them this, because I believe it, and I think it solaces them to know that, to have it reaffirmed by me. So in a sense, he is there, and yet he is not there.
I have been living here with my parents for over two years, I came here when Vasant went to Kashmir the first time -- he sort of tucked me in safe. He was the one who suggested that I stay with them. His parents are here too, but they have a plantation in Coorg, and they spend a lot of time there, so since my mom and dad are always in Bangalore, it made more sense for me to be here with them.
You know, bereavement, losing a loved one, is a funny thing. Before, you think you will never be able to survive such a blow. And now, some months later, I find myself wondering how on earth I ever went through that horrible day, and the days that followed. But at the time -- I don't know where it comes from, the strength, the ability to keep it all together, to keep from going to pieces, but anyone who has lost a loved one will know that, will know that when the time comes, you will find it in you to summon the strength you need, to survive, to do what you have to. And I think every person has that strength inside there somewhere. I won't even say every woman has it, every person has it. I mean, what do you do, yaar, what option do you have?
I must say this, though, I don't go beyond today; in my mind, I never go beyond today into the future, because that is very scary. Those rare moments when you think of a year down the line, five years down the line, knowing he won't be with you, that you have to go through life all alone, that is very, very frightening, and I have kept from thinking of that, I have stayed focused on today -- and that is how I have been able to cope.
You think to yourself, if I can live through today, and I wake up and I can live through tomorrow, and so on, if you stay focused on the day you have to live through, you will somehow manage to live your entire life out.
Image: "Every night, since this happened, the last thing I tell my children at night is 'Your dad loves you' -- every single night I have told them this, because I believe it, and I think it solaces them to know that, to have it reaffirmed by me. So in a sense, he is there, and yet he is not there," says Subhasini Vasant. Photograph: Prem Panicker.
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