Always take the long term view.

ALWAYS TAKE THE LONG TERM VIEW

At the age of 22, I faced my first episode of anxiety and panic disorder after returning from a week of partying in Mumbai.

I had severe anxiety coupled with recurrent panic attacks as soon as I returned.

I found little understanding from those around me, facing comments questioning my strength and character.

One said, “I never thought you were so weak.”

“I always knew you were bold only on the surface and a weakling inside,” said another.

The third said, referring to a recent Mel Brooks movie, “You are like that guy in the High Anxiety movie.”

Not knowing what to do, for the first time in my adult life, I went to the one person whom I had practically avoided my entire life….my father.

Growing up, my father neither gave me Candies nor kept me on his lap to tell me fairy tales. Most of my interactions with him were through discourses or reprimands. I was his ninth and last child. My relationship with him was not based on affection but on fear. My previous interaction with him had been a couple of months before, over a fight to have my breakfast in my room instead of the large dining hall downstairs, which I was flouting. I was studying for my final year and having breakfast with last-minute preparations in my room out of expediency before leaving for the exam. I had rebuked him with some unparliamentary words at his outburst over flouting the family rule of never eating in bedrooms. 

As though my depression was thrust upon me by providence, for the first time in my adult life, I turned to him for solace.

My father was astonished at my ennui and listlessness. He was a little disappointed since, just a month earlier, I had completed my engineering degree with flying colors.

We had lengthy conversations for days as I ranted out my irrational fears. He listened patiently and took me to all the doctors to resolve my imagined health anxieties. He did not criticize or belittle me.

After about a month, on April 8th, 1980, while I was sitting on his bed in the afternoon, he took my hand and guided me to stroke the portrait of his favorite divine figure, Raghavendra Swamy. He then guided my hand to his pulse and made me experience his pulse. Every fourth pulse missed a beat. I was terrified. But he was smiling. He said in his heavy Tamil accent.

“You must remember that difficult and testing times are part and parcel of life. Pray with full belief in God. Always aim for peace of mind, never a piece of something. Practice mind control. And remember, in life, always take the long-term view. Tell yourself that none of your issues will matter in a few months. That is the only way to destroy your fears”.

The following day, he was gasping for breath, making heavy and noisy shallow breathing. I watched Dr C.D.S. Murthy examine him with his stethoscope. My father suddenly exhaled a deep breath and stopped breathing. I was holding his hand. Dr Murthy tried to resuscitate him through CPR, repeatedly exhaling deeply into his mouth and pressing his chest. Nothing happened.

My father died still holding my hand. I can still remember the odor of his last breath.

“He died because of your pester during these last few weeks,” said one of my near and dear ones.

“You had a premonition he was going; that was why you clung on to him in the end”, my late sister Vanaja told me, with my two sisters-in-law nodding approvingly.

The memories of the last three months I spent with my father will never leave my heart. Providence made sure that I was by his side during his final days.

My father’s parting advice has been invaluable to me in business, my personal life, and my family life. It reminds me never to lose sight of long-term benefits due to short-term struggles and to navigate challenges with patience and foresight. As they say in the West, “This too shall pass.”

This April 9th marked the 44th death anniversary of my father. But his words still ring in my ears.

“Always take the long view”.