The Photograph

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“Regret for the things we did can be tempered by time; it is regret for the things we did not do that is inconsolable.”
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The Photograph
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They were moving once again. Another new assignment in another new country. It was time once again to take stock of all their possesions, of bits and pieces picked up in different places at different times. Each piece would go neatly into a cardboard box for the professional packers to systematically do their job. It was also a time to reduce unwanted load and get rid of ‘unimportant’ stuff. Like for instance, the best seller bought in ninety nine, or the T-shirts given out for the ‘over-the- hill’ football tournament played three years ago, or the Barbie kitchen set that their daughter never played with anymore. All that and much more, had to go.

Neel sat on his study desk at home and flipped through his files. Yes, the reading material from the Dubai conference would have to go. It had been a worthless conference anyway. He threw the pile of old invoices into the dustbin and finally opened the drawer in which he stored his ‘important’ papers. Over the years, Neel had collected documents and papers which had withstood the ravages of time and survived the storm winds of change and numerous job transfers. Once in a bluemoon, Neil would open this ‘important’ drawer and go through the contents. It was always a feel-good exercise reminding him of the milestones of his successful career.

Neel took out the letter of commendation given to him by the Bombay management association and his mind went back to the standing ovation he had received after his acceptance speech. That was so long ago. A half smile of satisfaction spread over his face as he flipped through his many certifications and letters congratulating him on his achievements over the years. Suddenly, he noticed an old photograph half hidden in one corner of the drawer. It was a group photograph laminated in plastic and captioned, ‘ The Millenium Team’. There he was, right in the center complete with a bright artificial smile. Yes, that was also a milestone. Neel took it out of the drawer and his mind went back seven years to that fateful day that he had had to make that decision.

“ What’s that you’ve found?” Rita asked as she walked into the study. “ Something we can throw away?”

Neel handed over the photograph to her in silence. The ‘Millenium team’ the photograph screamed. Behind the photograph were the names of all the participants at the strategy meeting. It was dated 31st of January, the day she could never ever forget. She remembered exactly the moments when her mother had called long distance and broken up over the phone. It was the news she had dreaded for such a long time and now that it was a reality, the finality of it hit her with great force. Her father had already been through two heart attacks and he was a diabetic on whom insulin did not work. And now he was gone.

Rita bit the corner of her lips and slowly handed back the photograph to Neel. Their eyes met and spoke of things best left unsaid. She remembered the mad rush to get plane tickets. She remembered that all the flights were full and that she had had to book tickets on the hopping flight via Bangalore. It would take many hours more to reach but that was the only way. What a mad rush it was.

She remembered ringing up the school and taking out the children out of class and driving them back home to feed them and pack for them before the afternoon flight. It was all a haze. She remembered ringing up the office to tell Neel.

“Do I buy you a plane ticket?” she had asked after she had told him about her father’s death. “ You must be present there for the cremation. There’s no one else but you. Can you come?”

It had been Neel’s big day. He had painstakingly prepared for the presentation to the board of directors who were visiting from Group headquarters in Australia. This was the exposure he was waiting for. It would surely propel him to the big league. And now this.

“ Why don’t you and the kids go ahead and I’ll catch the morning flight tomorrow,” Neel had sheepishly said over the phone. “It’ll be a disaster if I don’t make that presentation today.”

“ You know that you won’t see him ever again,” she said with a tone of finality. Rita had found it hard to comprehend that Neel wouldn’t be there for her father’s cremation. “They’ll be taking him to the crematorium tonight. You won’t see him. The man who loved you so much.”

“ I don’t know what to do.” Neel had told Rita. “If I leave today, then it’s goodbye to my career. That asshole Ravi will take credit for all the work that I’ve done. Please let me not mess up our future. I’ll be there in time for the Shrad ceremony and I’ll be there when you take his ashes to the Ganges river. Please?”

And so, the decision had been made.

Neel looked once more at the ‘Millenium Team’ photograph and his mind wandered to all the good times that he had had with Rita’s father. As he had grown up, his own father’s weaknesses had become apparent. The hero worship of his father during his childhood had given way to sense of resignation during adulthood, though it had made it easier to break away and start his own independent existence. In contrast, he admired his father in law’s sense of adventure, his spur of the moment and split second decision making ability and his great sense of humor. Over time Neel had become very close to him.

He was a tea planter living on the plantation estates on the high Himalayas with a lifestyle that few plains people would get to see these days. Once he had been a shikary, a game hunter. But his game hunting days had come to an end after a dying deer that he had shot, stood looking at him with pain in his eyes as if to say, “ what did I ever do to you?” He had then become a staunch eco-conservationist. Through him, Neel had been introduced to the mysteries of the deep Indian jungles and wild life sanctuaries. A man of good taste, he had injected into Neel a zest for living and a penchant for those activities that would give back to society far more than what we receive.

“With what you receive, you make a living and a career,” he had said. “But, with what you give back, you make a life. Images flew by of the man traveling not on the fast lane but close to the sounds and rhythms of nature, close to the earth and the seasons.

January 31st , the day engraved on the photograph, was also the day he had passed away. Neel had chosen to pursue his ambitions on the dog eat dog fast track, on the road to material success. Two years later, Neel’s company had been acquired in a hostile takeover by another multinational. Like in all such takeovers the people from the predator company had the upper hand in all the decision making. Neel had decided to leave and go and work abroad. Forces beyond his control were working to steer him elsewhere.

Rita left the study to catch up with the work on updating the inventory. The packers would soon arrive. Neel looked at the ‘Millenium Group’ photograph once more and there was pain and regret in his eyes. He had made hundreds of slick presentations since that day. That particular office meeting now seemed so unimportant and far away. He removed the photograph and, instead of putting it back in the folder of ‘important’ things to be packed, threw it into the dustbin.

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