A 7 year old girl's life revolves around barbies, play houses, kitchen sets, make-up and fake tea parties! Mine revolved around brain tumour, chemotherapy, syringes and those deadly medical equipments.
I still vaguely remember, twelve years back, I was sitting in the balcony with grandpa, feeding bread crumbs to the sparrows. He loved nature. He loved everything that God had created. He never did any harm to His creations - be it humans, or even a tiny little wasp coming to attack him. And we sat there, as the sun was going down the horizon, singing songs, that he had written himself...., calling onto the sparrows. It amazed me how the sparrows weren't a bit afraid of him. His presence didn't scare them at all. And I unintentionally, used to shoo them away, even with the tiniest movement.
The door opened, and there stood the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life. She had deep green eyes and such striking features, I used to totally adore her. There stood, my grandma. She was holding a tray with a glass of mango shake for me. And she smiled at me. For a split second I saw the smile getting replaced with a very strange expression, and before I could even think, the tray fell from her hand. The glass smashed into pieces. That was the last time she ever got me something to eat, something she had made herself. And that was the last time, I ever ate mangoes or anything containing them.
She was diagnosed with malignant brain tumour, last stage. My grandpa insisted that she shouldn't come to know, not so soon atleast. They were planning to take her to Delhi. They told her it was just a normal vacation.
I didn't even know what the word 'CANCER' meant. I remember asking my mom that night...
"mom, what is happening to nani?", the innocent 7 year old me asked.
She didn't reply.
"mom, what is cancer?" I tried again.
She made me sit in her lap and spoke in soft,defeated voice...
"Our body is made up of cells. Cancer is when our own cells start killing each other. Thats whats happening to her"
"But she will be okay,won't she? She will be able to make mango shakes again! Soon" I smiled weakly.
And my mom broke into tears. I had got my answer.
My grandma was a very shy person, who hated attending parties. They had been invited to one, which was after few days. And the irony, she was happy to be flown to Delhi.
"Atleast I wouldn't have to attend that party" she smiled at me.
Her hopeful, oblivious smile broke me down.
They operated her but the tumour had spread badly. The doctors told us that she didn't have much time left. That was the first and the last time I saw my grandpa break down. He locked himself up in his room for a day, came out the next morning, smiled at my grandma, held her hand and told her to have faith.
Whenever our lives get momentarily messed up, we think about killing ourself, ending it all. People who think of committing suicide, think of 'choosing' death over life. What they don't realize is...what if DEATH CHOOSES YOU? What if its standing there right in front of you, wearing its black cloak, ready to carry you in its arms and you can't do anything. What they don't realize is how does it feel to know that you can die anytime. And what if you WANT to live? My nani did! She did want to live! She did want to dance when her son got married! She did want to play with her grandchildren. She wanted to make me food I loved.
No, she did not want to die. I could see that on her face. She was SCARED, so scared of death. And now that it sinks in, what she would have been going through at that time. Chemotherapy had caused her long, silky hair to shed. Her eyes were so puffed up that you could hardly see what color they were. She couldn't even hold anything for more than 5 seconds. But she didn't shed a tear. She fought it. I used to run into her arms and cry and she used to smile sheepishly and whisper, "oh! stop crying. I am gonna be there when you get married! Abhi meri umar hi kya hai", followed by a weak laugh. She knew she was gonna die. But she didn't want to accept it.
And the pain she had to go through. I so wish it could all be taken back. The syringes, the pipes being pushed down her nose. The liquid food being pumped into that pipe. She couldn't even taste food during her last months.
She slipped into coma 6 months later. I still remember how me and nanu used to sit by her side, hold her hand and talk to her. I used to tell her jokes and we used to laugh. All in the hope that she would reply, or just say something, or just move a muscle. But nothing. All that moved were the tears that silently trickled out of her eyes. She could hear us. But all she could do was lie there, helpless. But we didn't give up.
4 December 1999
I was sitting by her side and I reached our for her hand. It felt so dry. The skin was shedding off. I rushed to get a moisturising cream and started rubbing it on her hands. As I turned the palm side up, I let out a shriek. I was terrified. My grandpa rushed to me. He saw her palms too. He picked me up and we both cried, hugging each other. She died the next day, peacefully, in coma. Maybe she wouldn't have even realised. Well that was good, wasn't it? Atleast the death part was painless. She would have woken up straight in heaven.
And what was wrong with her palm a day before she died?? Well, all the palm lines had disappeared. Not a tiny stroke left....!
