Dawdling

I admit to being a procrastinator. Grant me two weeks to complete an assigned task and I will likely only get started at the eleventh hour. Delayed actions can sometimes have a lasting impact.

This fact was driven home to me sadly, a couple of weeks ago. As a palliative care volunteer at a special facility, I look forward to spending quality time with the residents.  One gentleman in particular eagerly awaited my twice-a-week visits with him.  On days that he felt up to it, I would take him out into the hospice courtyard.  There, we would sit and enjoy our quiet chats or long moments of comforting silence, next to a gurgling fountain amidst trees and blooming flowers. I visited with him on a Monday a couple of weeks ago and after our time together, promised to return before the end of the week. However, for some reason I was unable to go that Friday and by the time I returned the following week, he was gone.

Many friends have, over the years, shared with me their feeling of loss at not having spent time with that special person in their life, before he/she passed on. A letter not written. A loving message not shared. A slight never forgiven. A wrong not set right. Some people carry a sense of guilt or regret, others a wistful “if only …” memory.

So, this week I am sharing this nazm (poem) recited by one of my favorite Pakistani poets, (late) Munir Niazi. The unvaan (title) of this verse is “Hamesha der kar detaa hoon mein” (Always I delay acting).