Yesterday lives only in your mind

Yesterday lives only in your mind

September 2023

Yesterday lives only in your mind

News of a friend’s sudden demise and, subsequently, a wisdom message on her phone compel  Laxmi Nair to reconcile herself to the impermanence of life It was a dull Friday evening, almost the tail end of June, and the rains had just begun,  signalling the start of the monsoons. A  slight drizzle that had welcomed the morning  was followed by a heavy shower towards late  afternoon. It cooled down all the pent-up heat in  the environment.  

For me, it was just like any other weekend,  striving to finish my back-to-back meetings and  jotting down to-do lists that inconspicuously  creep in during discussions. Finally, at around  eight o’clock, I decided to close for the day. I shut  down my laptop, closed my diary, and wearily  picked up my phone for some distraction. 

The Shocker 

As I scanned through my WhatsApp messages, I  could see at a glance that many were just casual  forwards. Then, suddenly, one of them caught  my eye. It was from Aditya, a very close family  friend. We had been neighbours for almost two  decades and had grown up together completing  school and graduation, and sharing all the ups  and downs of life together. Consequently, a very  strong bond had been formed between the two  families; one stronger than those formed by  familial relationships. 

I quickly opened his message which read: “We  lost Ashutosh’s wife, Aditi, last night. We are all in  shock. Please convey the message to Aunty and the  others as well.” My brain went reeling into a  spin, throwing aside all the gathered thoughts  and actions of the day. I felt numb for a second,  then re-read the message again to check if I had  read it right and tried to join the dots.  

Aditya and Ashutosh as well as their parents  had been our neighbours, and we always had  each other’s backs through thick and thin. My  sister and I were close to both, just like our  parents were. Ashutosh had married almost  10 years ago, has two lovely daughters (aged  eight and four), and was now settled in Atlanta,  US. Though now we were all dispersed, we  didn’t meet often due to physical distancing  and everyone being busy with their own lives.  However, when the four of us met, it would be  so easy to pick up where we had left off.  

Swamped by Unanswered Questions I called up Aditya immediately and got a few  details: Aditi and the kids had been visiting  family in India. It was very sudden; Aditi  had started throwing up and had severe  stomach pain. By the time a doctor arrived in  15 minutes, she had fainted in Aunty’s (her  mother-in-law’s) arms. On examining her, the  doctor found no pulse. She was 32 and had  complained of no issues whatsoever until then.  Ashutosh was informed, and he was on a flight  to Mumbai.I could not grasp what I just heard,  and my mind started throwing up all kinds of  questions to which I had no answers: How could  that have happened so suddenly without warning?  Why did it happen? How would Ashutosh and the  kids take it? How would Uncle and Aunty take  this? What would happen to the kids? Do they even  realise the gravity of the situation they are in?  

A Disturbed Mind 

The more I thought about these questions, the  more I was badgered by an increasing number  of them. I felt a sharp pain in my head, and  my heart felt very heavy. I could feel myself  becoming numb from what I had heard, all  in the span of an hour. I questioned my own  existence, the social and economic drama that  plays out in our lives, and then the sudden  calling of closure that can come at any time  with no intimation. 

Towards dawn, after being unable to sleep  throughout the night, the pain slowly relaxed  its grip on my heart and head. Waves of  thoughts subsided, and my mind felt empty.  I made myself a cup of tea and went and sat  in my favourite corner on the balcony, looking  at the sky lighting up. I took in the sights and  smells of the surroundings—the earth still wet  from the rains at night, the trees standing still,  a few clouds in the sky, and the birds chirping,  about to begin their day.I looked at my phone  and saw a message blinking. It was a thought  for the day, published by my guru’s ashram,  and it read: “Yesterday lives only in your mind.”  Any other day, I would have read it casually,  contemplated on it a bit, and then gone about  with my daily chores. Today was different. As I  read this message, I felt the Universe was giving  me answers to all my questions from the night.  

Yesterday Lives only in your Mind Isn’t it true that what we experience during the  day dies at night? It is not a physical death or  closure, but what has happened during the day  is over. We have no hold over it whatsoever. Yet  we harbour this false notion of accumulating  and hoarding—our thoughts, emotions, wealth,  relationships, and friendships—all with the  hope that we will carry it to the next day. Now,  when I look at what happened to Aditi, this  quote had more depth. 

Aditi passed away, and since physical loss  was involved, we were shattered. With that,  everything else associated with her came to  a grinding halt. However, daily, there is a  silent loss of all that has happened to us. We  have nothing that we can call ours tomorrow.  What happened remains only in our minds,  and similarly, tomorrow is a figment of our  imagination. What we have is only today or  NOW, and hence we must make the most of it  to make it a memorable life.  

The quote from the ashram made me see death  and life in another light. It set me free from the  pain I was reeling under.  

“For Life and Death are one, even as the river  and the sea are one. —Kahlil Gibran 

Inspired by the spiritual teachers of the land, Laxmi Nair is an ardent devotee and  seeker by nature. Write to her at laxmnair@gmail.com.