This is my first personal post ever. I think I need it today.
When I thought I'll write something today, it wasn't supposed to be this. Fifteen minutes ago, I got a phone call from mom, at 3 in the night and her feeble voice told me that something was wrong. Turned out that my nani (I call her badi-mamma) had a severe heart attack earlier tonight. She's in the hopsital. The doctors say that her heart is 80% damaged, that it cannot pump blood to the brain, that she is probably brain dead, and if she does make it through, she'll be bed-ridden for the rest of her life, a condition they say is worse than death, both for the family and the patient. Some blood vessels have come undone and instead of being transported to the brain, the blood is all coming out of her mouth. She is on a life support system and heavy medication.
My mom couldn't sleep. Neither can I. She'll go to her first thing in the morning. I can't.
Though never ever faced with such a situation in my life, I always thought that I could look at death objectively. I thought that if old people over the age of 70 die a natural death, it was perfectly okay. That is how it should be. You feel sad, that is true, but it's not such a big deal. Turns out I was wrong, not surprisingly. I happen to be wrong far too often, especially about myself. Anyways, that's not the issue.
I am no divinity and I have absolutely no authority to pass judgements on anyone, but my nani wasn't a good person. I know of no one, no one who does not detest her for what she has been and what she has done. Even today, her departure, to put it euphemistically, would improve few lives, and lives of people who've got to live for a long time, age-wise. I agree with that judgement. This would sound grotesque, but I'd be happy if she died. At least the others would get to live a decent life. If she survives and is bed-ridden, I guess that'll be her punishment too, to suffer for her deeds in such a pitiless way. That is God's justice. She will also suffer because, every moment, she will receive the best possible care from all those people whom she hurt. If there is an iota of conscience left in her, and if she can still feel and understand, yet be able to do nothing about it, that will also be God's justice. Will it absolve her of her sins? I do not know. I do not care.
You see, I myself hate her. I hate her for what she's done to people I love. Yet I can't sleep. I hate her for what she's done to my nani. My nani, who used to be good when I was a kid, who always kept a packet of cornflakes handy whenever I was to visit her, who's love I could feel permeating through me. I guess that was an illusion too, but even if it was, it was a good one. It didn't live long, though. The things were in place till I was 6, or maybe 7. It's been fourteen years hence. I haven't seen her again. I've seen the 70 year old woman who today is relegated to the mercy of those she tortured. I know it sounds thus, but I have absolutely no sympathy for her.
I cry not for her, but for the woman who was a symbol of what my nani should have been. I cry for that relation. I cry not because I am losing it, but because I realize I never had it. It feels so empty. At times I feel retarded. Some of te pivotal positions in one's life, the people you love the most, the people you get all the love from, the people whom you learn from, have all been missing. Not physically. I feel so incomplete, so insecure. It's a big void within me. Sometimes I just so crave for love. Pure, uninhibited, unconditional love. When I take people seriously, when I help them out, when I do things for them, everyone takes me for a nice guy. I'm not. I'm just plain needy. I'd go to any extent to get a smile from someone, to share a special moment, a special bond with a person just because it alleviates that hollowness a little.
When I write this post, I'm not even thinking of her, of what she's going through, of the physical pain she might be feeling or any other difficulty she might be experiencing. I am thinking of all the people who are out there, standing, dozing, running through the night for her sake. I am thinking of those who should have been there but are not and those who will not be even when they are told. I am thinking of my mother, of her stifled, cracking voice, of the desperation in her voice when she asked me, "Swetank, main so kyun nahi pa rahi? Mujhe kyun fark pad raha hai?" I am thinking of the loss she will face. Her mother, yes, but more than that, it was a constancy in her life that will be no more. For forty-three years, she has seen her, talked to her, loved her, hated her, fought with her, but there was a her. There still is, but it'll never be the same again. I hope it never is. It is better this way. I can't bear to think what my mother is going through and will go through if it does come to pass.
My stomach is doing somersaults now. I wish I knew what I should do. Everyone will tell me that everything will be alright. For once, they'll be right. Everything will be alright if she isn't. That's the irony of it. Why couldn't everything have been alright?
When I thought I'll write something today, it wasn't supposed to be this. Fifteen minutes ago, I got a phone call from mom, at 3 in the night and her feeble voice told me that something was wrong. Turned out that my nani (I call her badi-mamma) had a severe heart attack earlier tonight. She's in the hopsital. The doctors say that her heart is 80% damaged, that it cannot pump blood to the brain, that she is probably brain dead, and if she does make it through, she'll be bed-ridden for the rest of her life, a condition they say is worse than death, both for the family and the patient. Some blood vessels have come undone and instead of being transported to the brain, the blood is all coming out of her mouth. She is on a life support system and heavy medication.
My mom couldn't sleep. Neither can I. She'll go to her first thing in the morning. I can't.
Though never ever faced with such a situation in my life, I always thought that I could look at death objectively. I thought that if old people over the age of 70 die a natural death, it was perfectly okay. That is how it should be. You feel sad, that is true, but it's not such a big deal. Turns out I was wrong, not surprisingly. I happen to be wrong far too often, especially about myself. Anyways, that's not the issue.
I am no divinity and I have absolutely no authority to pass judgements on anyone, but my nani wasn't a good person. I know of no one, no one who does not detest her for what she has been and what she has done. Even today, her departure, to put it euphemistically, would improve few lives, and lives of people who've got to live for a long time, age-wise. I agree with that judgement. This would sound grotesque, but I'd be happy if she died. At least the others would get to live a decent life. If she survives and is bed-ridden, I guess that'll be her punishment too, to suffer for her deeds in such a pitiless way. That is God's justice. She will also suffer because, every moment, she will receive the best possible care from all those people whom she hurt. If there is an iota of conscience left in her, and if she can still feel and understand, yet be able to do nothing about it, that will also be God's justice. Will it absolve her of her sins? I do not know. I do not care.
You see, I myself hate her. I hate her for what she's done to people I love. Yet I can't sleep. I hate her for what she's done to my nani. My nani, who used to be good when I was a kid, who always kept a packet of cornflakes handy whenever I was to visit her, who's love I could feel permeating through me. I guess that was an illusion too, but even if it was, it was a good one. It didn't live long, though. The things were in place till I was 6, or maybe 7. It's been fourteen years hence. I haven't seen her again. I've seen the 70 year old woman who today is relegated to the mercy of those she tortured. I know it sounds thus, but I have absolutely no sympathy for her.
I cry not for her, but for the woman who was a symbol of what my nani should have been. I cry for that relation. I cry not because I am losing it, but because I realize I never had it. It feels so empty. At times I feel retarded. Some of te pivotal positions in one's life, the people you love the most, the people you get all the love from, the people whom you learn from, have all been missing. Not physically. I feel so incomplete, so insecure. It's a big void within me. Sometimes I just so crave for love. Pure, uninhibited, unconditional love. When I take people seriously, when I help them out, when I do things for them, everyone takes me for a nice guy. I'm not. I'm just plain needy. I'd go to any extent to get a smile from someone, to share a special moment, a special bond with a person just because it alleviates that hollowness a little.
When I write this post, I'm not even thinking of her, of what she's going through, of the physical pain she might be feeling or any other difficulty she might be experiencing. I am thinking of all the people who are out there, standing, dozing, running through the night for her sake. I am thinking of those who should have been there but are not and those who will not be even when they are told. I am thinking of my mother, of her stifled, cracking voice, of the desperation in her voice when she asked me, "Swetank, main so kyun nahi pa rahi? Mujhe kyun fark pad raha hai?" I am thinking of the loss she will face. Her mother, yes, but more than that, it was a constancy in her life that will be no more. For forty-three years, she has seen her, talked to her, loved her, hated her, fought with her, but there was a her. There still is, but it'll never be the same again. I hope it never is. It is better this way. I can't bear to think what my mother is going through and will go through if it does come to pass.
My stomach is doing somersaults now. I wish I knew what I should do. Everyone will tell me that everything will be alright. For once, they'll be right. Everything will be alright if she isn't. That's the irony of it. Why couldn't everything have been alright?
posted by Swetank Gupta @ 2:07 pm
7 Comments
