39. I have never known ecstasy...maybe this was some thing very close to it

 Thousand Moon: Dr. Raghunath Boradkar, Kothrud, Pune. 81+

Contributed by: Rohini

I met Dr. Boradkar for the first time when he recited one of his poems at a cultural program arranged by Phoenix Metro Marathi Mandal, AZ. He was visiting his son at the time. During one of our subsequent meetings I learnt to my delight that Dr. Boradkar was a good friend of my maternal uncle since they both lived in Jamnagar, Gujarath. Apart from being a physician and a poet he has many other interests and keeps up with the world via his computer that he says he is addicted to. Dr. Boradkar has contributed several interviews to this blog. He recently became a 'sahasrachandra darshi' witnessing a thousand moons and has shared one of his happiest moments here upon my request. Here is the account in his own words.

Our first visit to the US was in 1996. Our son Prasad had found a job at ITT Technical Institute in San Bernardino, California to start a new program in Product Design. During this visit, time flew by rapidly and we found ourselves back in India in no time.

In 2000, he moved to Phoenix and joined Arizona State University (ASU). I faintly remember he had asked me if leaving ITT and joining ASU was proper and I had opined in favor. I had then felt that ASU would positively open more doors for him.

In 2003 we met Prasad again in Bhutan where my daughter was working at that time. He seemed to be enjoying his work and the academic atmosphere. When asked he said, “teaching seems to be in my blood.” Finding work that one enjoys is the best thing that can happen in anyone’s life, and I envied him for that.

In 2005 we visited Phoenix. By then, I had retired and we were in no hurry to go back to India. Prasad had just signed a contract to write a book for Berg, a publishing house based in Oxford, England. His friend Paul Rothstein who had unexpectedly died the day after he received the contract had called it “a big deal”. I felt it was a tall order. And it tickled me somewhere.

Soon it was time to leave the US, and we were back in India. And at this stage, it was still a very small idea in his head. What I did not know was that it could grow into an obsession in mine. It did not appear very rational. It was his book, not mine, and clearly I should have no reason to be bothered about it. In spite of all logic, however, the idea of the book first became a concern and then an obsession for me—a magnificent one.

Sometime back I had acquired a computer and I used to regularly fiddle with it. Soon I became acquainted with it and eventually got addicted to it. It was something good that happened to me. I was now able to send emails and ask numerous questions about the progress of the book.

In 2008 we visited Phoenix again. This visit turned out to be an eye opener for me as far as the book was concerned. I could see that barring the hours spent in the university, he spent most of his time on the computer working on the book. I could also sense the tension that was building inside him as the deadline for submission of the manuscript was nearing. There was hardly anything that we could do except looking after his home. Though I had realized that there was no point in pushing, I somehow did not stop goading him to finish and submit the manuscript on time rather than asking for extensions.

We were relieved when on the due date he told us that it was all done and it was just to be submitted. I can recollect that it was late in the evening when he sent off the manuscript, and we happily went out to celebrate the event.  Prasad’s editor at Berg, Mr. Tristan Palmer wrote the next day or day after. He had read the first chapter and had said that he was bowled over—something we had not really expected. It was a comforting compliment.

Months rolled on and it was time to head back home. There was nothing to be done now other than wait for the book to appear in print. What began was an endless flow of time that never seemed to end.

This time I came back to India with a laptop added to my already extra luggage: a very likable addition indeed. And in a few days after returning home, I was used to the laptop. On Amazon.com, I could see the date of publication and a picture of the book cover. The book was being reviewed and some changes here and there must have been suggested and implemented. Though I understood that the process was time‐consuming and we had no control over it, my mind was somehow was not ready to accept the fact. But wait I had to, and so I ultimately tried the only panacea available and that was to LET GO.

Fortunately (or otherwise), time passes in spite of you. Finally the day arrived when Prasad informed me about the publishing of the book. It was the 6th June 2010, and it felt like we had been waiting for a baby to be born. This birth of a book was a great event in my life and the one that I had not imagined till it started. And although it was not an achievement of mine it still made me immensely happy. I had asked Prasad to send me a copy and he promptly did so. When I got the book in my hand, I went on looking at it, handled it gently, and felt like a child who gets a new toy.

Feelings often fall short of the words we use to describe them. Though feelings of joy, ecstasy or happiness might be difficult to describe, they are real sensations. However, the intensity with which one feels is a very personal affair. I was happy, and became more so when the book got an award from Prasad’s university as the best book in 2010 on transdisciplinary humanities.

I have never known ecstasy. Maybe this was a similar feeling or something very close to it.

Dr. Raghunath Boradkar