At last she cried................

Saturday, January 22, 2011 Vishaal 2 Comments

The beeps of the buzzer were driving her crazy all over again as the platform gently and steadily entered the portal (as it seemed) of the giant Siemens spiral CT. It was her fourth time and she was well aware of the procedures. But each time felt like another battle. An eerie chill would run up her spine every time the
red beam ran across her body, head to toe, scanning for the secondaries as they called it.

Being a science graduate with zoology as a subject she could understand quite a bit of what the Doctors used to say to her or about her illness to her parents. A tumour, neoplastic tissue, spread to liver and sorts of stuff. She knew that she had not been as lucky as other people. Her parents would break down every time she had a follow-up of endless procedures. She knew she had to be strong.

Her in-laws would rarely visit her. Even if they did, after talking about everything, they would eventually
enquire about the pension she was receiving and what she’s doing about it. The meagre amount was in return for the supreme sacrifice her husband had made at the front. The body had arrived four days after his passage. She recalled how she stood at the door step watching other men bringing down the casket from the truck. Men in uniforms , honourary fire, slogans and women grieving “Oh! the poor thing!” etc. She still smelt the fire destroy his last remains and turn them to dry ash.

Adamant she was, to accept what fate had in store for then. She had stood all night in front of the pyre and even had thought of jumping in the same fire and ending it all. But the cuddles of the little life she had in her arms forced her to stand in front of mean fate and look into the eyes of death and say “not now ; not
now “.

“You may go, its done” said the technician. “It’s still under control. We hope to decrease its vascularity further. You’ll have to start another regimen of drugs and frequent radiotherapy.” Said the doctor after a long observation of the CT prints held against the white tube lit box. Another set of killer drugs. ‘Hell’ she said to herself.

Back home, heaven was 5 years old now, Already toddling away to school down the street. The little girl was the only hope, only ray of light in her miserably painful life. Hence, she had taken a vow, an oath, never to make her cry, never leave her alone, never utter a single word of hate, ill fate, disease or sorrow in her life. She had dreamt of her daughter as a graduate, able to stand on her own. She had got a teachers job in the
same school to make the ends meet. To provide for almost anything her daughter ever needed. Her in laws were not so kind now. They would take away all the pension and she was not prepared to try them at court as she knew her ailing body would not allow her to move around for years in search of justice.

Her day began with her daughter and ended with her. She took all the care a mother could take and much more. Her favourite part of the day was grooming the little one and tying the two little ponies with red ribbon, It just got her day going !! She would walk along as the tiny thing, jumped, ran ,tripped, stumbled but
never fell. Get her to school and after school again walk back or sometimes carry her. All the way, why is sky blue? Why do birds sing? Why is rose red? Why do boys in class pull my hair ? Why does the wind blow……?

‘Pleasure’ was not the word to define the feeling as she patiently tried to answer the kid’s questions. Try to fit them in her tiny world. Some times she would sit up all night just watching her love’s last sign, sleeping, peacefully.

The days were not so bright now. Her hair began to fall off. She would bleed bad from minor cuts. Bowel
movement was uncontrolled. Diarrhoea, vomiting and host of other messengers came reminding her of the inevitable. Never did she complain of her life to her daughter. Always cheering her up. Turning the topic.

24 years had passed since she was tested cancerous. And the armchair in the verandah had been there for 6 years now. She sat in it all the time, pleading to death, to wait. "Some more time, just a little more, Hang on" she would tell herself. "Let her come, then I will go with you" she’d say and when her daughter returned,

Death could not separate them.  He stood there silently unable to break the determination to live, the will to
survive. Not for her sake but for the sake of the only purpose in her life – her daughter. Even today she lay in the armchair eyes closed but mind towards the gate. Waiting for what she had dreamt of all her life.
The gate creaked, and she struggled to open her eyes. Weak, and down trodden couldn’t see much.

She could see a faint figure in black, running with arms wide open towards her and shouting in joy. Her daughter was a graduate and she knelt down to touch the feet of her mother. Buckling up all the last bits of energy in her arms and back she somehow managed to lift her right hand to rest it on her daughter head – warmth from her daughter’s scalp. Life, lives on, my life lives on………..

A strange grippy sensation caught her feet and then spread to her kness, hip, trunk, chest, head. She felt a sense of relief..., she took in one deep breath. Put an immense effort, leaned forward. Her pupils dilated as if in a bid to see her daughters face in totality, once and forever. …..

She closed her eyes gently…….

A tear rolled down her left cheek,

Then there was silence.

Eternal silence………..


Lost Childhood

Saturday, January 22, 2011 Vishaal 2 Comments

They played, they enjoyed at his age
They were free birds with no woes,
He wished he could be like them,
But fate was one of his worst foes

They got what they wanted
Without a second thought
He wished he could get something too.
But it was life with which he fought

The rich kids broke away what they had
Without any doubt or guilt
He wished he had owned something
But for him castles in air were built

He sat in a quarry and broke boulders
While they laughed and chattered
He thought what he broke was stones
But I saw his childhood shattered.