An Ode to the Neighbor

Upon my parents' relocation to their current residence two decades ago, they were warmly greeted by the neighbor. Tragically, his wife fell ill within a few months and eventually passed away. Following his wife's demise, he, a widower, distanced himself from our entire community. For the past 21 years, he lived alone, typically maintaining solitude. His interactions were primarily limited to the essential vendors—those providing milk, newspapers, and food supplies.

He had a routine of rising at 4 am, taking a morning stroll, consciously avoiding encounters with fellow residents in the colony. To ensure minimal social interactions, he preferred going shopping around noon. By 8 pm, he would retire for the night, dozing off into a peaceful slumber. While his wife was alive both of them used to interact with my parents. However, following her passing, he started avoiding any interaction with them.

Whenever his son had the opportunity, he would visit him. According to what we learned from the son, his father chose not to move in with him. Additionally, he had completely severed ties with his wife's relatives as well. On two occasions, his son reached out to us on our landline when his father didn't respond to his calls. When my parents checked on him, he barely expressed gratitude and instead ended the conversation with a brief "hmm." However, I was truly impressed by him as he lived his life adhering to a routine, in his own unique way, and must have found happiness in his own world.

Recently, as I accompanied my dad to the hospital, I observed him sitting on his balcony, providing instructions to the painter working on the gate. The following day, I hurried back with my mother to gather more belongings for the hospital since my dad had been admitted. Once again, he was on the balcony, giving instructions to the painter. That was the last time I saw him.

Upon our return, we noticed his gate was locked, assuming that the son had possibly taken his dad, as it happened occasionally. However, today, a neighbor hurried to our home after reading about his death in the newspaper, seeking additional information. As anticipated, none of us had his contact details, but after a few inquiries, we managed to reach the son. According to the son, his dad had passed away two days ago. Feeling unwell, the son had requested his cousin to take him to Kochi, where the son lived. Unfortunately, his dad passed away on the way.It dawned on us that it was the very same day when my dad was discharged, and we had returned from the hospital.

It must be acknowledged that he opted for a solitary life and passed away in solitude, without causing any trouble for anyone, including his son. He serves as an illustration of the idea that we enter and leave this world in solitude, with others merely acting as spectators, adding drama to our lives.  confess a sense of sorrow, knowing the 4 am glow of his bedroom lights and the sight of him reading the newspaper until the milk vendor arrived will be missed forever.

Even in silence, he made his presence felt.