If God were less merciful
Warning:I write this in soul-wrenching agony,in an overwhelming need to attain catharsis.Read only if you can take it! I write here knowing that not many people will read.Still,this happens to be really personal--if you're looking for something normal,please read some other post.
I come home to find a parcel containing something that I'd ordered.I open it impatiently to find that it's exactly as I imagined it to be.I knock on my Mom's door,knowing that she's busy,yet all too eager to show her.She opens the door in the midst of a patient's consultation.The look on her face makes my stomach turn over.
Brain hemorrhage,she says.She's in the ICU.Not more than a week.They already got the forms signed.Need cash.Draw some when free.Her sentences are terse,probably trying to keep emotions at bay while she's at work.But her eyes are bottomless pools of agony.She promptly shuts the door and goes back to work.She's what they call a karmayogi. Professional to the last dot,even if it kills her.I gather she heard the news in the middle of her evening practice,and while others would have shut shop on the 20 people waiting,my Mom will maintain her composure till she finishes work and in the meanwhile talk to each of them as if it were just another day.I wonder what it feels like to put on a facade of perfect normalcy while your heart is being torn out.
I on the other hand,have no reason to maintain any facade.I am in complete solitude and at liberty to let my emotions out.I thought I was ready for this all along.I told myself from the day I heard that she had cancer.One year is all that's left.Steel yourself.It's inevitable.
And all this while,I lived under the illusion that I was ready.As soon as I came home for my holidays,I entreated my Mom to visit,urging her to go as her sister's days were numbered.Being able to say goodbye to a person while they're still conscious is a gift.I know what it is to not have that.I didn't want my Mom to be denied that.
A month ago,much to my relief, my Mom took my advice and booked her tickets.The second thing I begged of her was that I accompany her.In my heart,I knew this was my only chance.My Mom didn't agree,citing that I should stay and take care of my grandfather.She promised me that she would take me to see her sometime later.I argued and begged but my Mom didn't realise.She didn't feel the way I did.She thought there was time.Finally,I relented knowing that her adieu was far more important than mine.Mine was more selfish:I needed closure and a chance to see her.But hers was to severe off a tie of the soul--a tie that has survived 6 decades.Both of them need it.So I consoled myself.Today,I wish I had tried harder.I know that it is already too late.It is any moment now.
For one month,I have watched my Mom wake up post-midnight and shudder in fear and sorrow as the dogs howled right in front of our house.I have comforted her with logic and reason and sometimes just silence.I have shared not her fear but a bone chilling certainty of what was to be.Yet,I too did not believe the day would be here this soon.
I take out my card and start walking to the atm.Without any warning,my pent up grief hits me like a tsunami.I am almost blinded by the tears as I walk down the road.As is the way of the mind,I'm instantly taken to my childhood and interactions with her.
The first time I met my aunt was when I was 6 or 7.Unlike other children,I knew no relatives other than my parents.I had no idea what being pampered meant.We had gone to visit my grandmother,who was quite surly during that time and hated me at sight.Although she didn't vocalise it,I felt the hate all too well.I dreamt of being loved and pampered by grandparents like every other kid.Life had fun shattering that one. I now know and understand why she hated me for no fault of mine,and I don't feel sad about it.Human beings are creatures of emotion.The first law of emotion is that emotion is instinctive.It is not something we do willfully,we're not even conscious of it most of the times.
Two of my aunts were there during my visit.Maybe they felt my disappointment and sadness,or maybe they simply liked me.They asked my Mom if they could take me out and she of course,gave her approval.I hesitated for a minute,scared to trust these new people whom I had never met before.My mom reassured me.
I set off with them,one tiny hand encased in each of their palms.They treated me like a princess.I was taken to a restaurant and asked to order anything I liked.They fussed over me while I ate,suggesting other things I should try.Next stop was an ice-cream shop where I was again given the royal treatment.After that came shopping.I was taken clothes shopping,shoe shopping.Every shop in sight.I was shy and insisted that I didn't want anything,but they laughed away my pleas and bought me a dozen things.One slightly fond look at something and it would be mine.But it was not this that mattered.It was the feeling of being cherished.Of knowing that someone loved you enough to pamper you.By the end of the day,these two people had found a place in my heart.I adored them.Looked at them in awe.
My parents aren't much into social visits.That was the only time I went to meet them.But once they knew me,they always remembered.Every year,parcels used to arrive at my house.The traditional pattu pavadais.Chudidars later on.Sarees by the dozen of late.Jewelry that I disdained and locked away from my sight and mind.
I did not know how to reciprocate their love.I did the only thing I could think of as a 6-year-old kid.Asked for their birthdays and embedded them firmly into my brain.Every year,as soon as the day was there,I would ask my absent-minded Mom(who still has no idea of her own birthday) to call.I was still kind of scared to talk,so I would tell my Mom to convey my wishes.The gesture was a very small one,but I did it with a heart full of love.I don't know if it mattered.I hope it did.Her birthday is a few days away.She shall not live to see it:(
That first day is still vivid in my mind.I still remember the dress she got me.The slippers which had a slight heel--she coaxed my mom into letting me wear them.I was enthralled by them for quite some time.
Today,I sit here writing this,all my tears spent.It's been two hours since I've heard and it seems like time has stopped.It feels like a second ago.It feels like eternity.I don't know.
The last time I saw her was in October when it had already metastized into several parts of her brain.I did not know that,nor did she.One day over lunch,we were alone and she was very sad.As if she already knew.Somehow, I broke down.She cried with me.That has been one of the few times in life when I have actually cried in someone's presence.
I wish I had my turn at reciprocating her love.The last time she visited,she was desperately ill--she could hardly remember and yet,she made it a point to bring me a earring.She first gave it to me and then kept asking me if she did,for she could not remember.I was furious at the absurdity of it.To the point that I was even rude to her.You're dying and you're bothered about this goddamned earring!
Now,I look back and curse my short-tempered self.What endurance must it take for a person who couldn't remember if she had taken her own pills to do this?To actually remember something.To get it in your soul so firmly that even if your brain didn't function,you still remembered.Was it out of love for me?I don't know and I never will.I can't think of any other reason.I believe that she loved me as she would her own daughter,if she had one.
Materialistic gifts are a weird way of being affectionate,but it is sadly what most people follow.
I wish I had been kind to her.I wish I had spoken to her more.Told her how much she meant.But human beings are only wise in retrospect.I did none of this.Regrets are all I have now.The only consolation I have is that I did right by my mother.
In this moment of tragic sorrow,I almost pray that she will survive this.That they will call tomorrow and tell me that she's okay.But that would be very selfish and nothing else.She has suffered insanely and God knows she deserves peace.But it's his decision to make,not mine.
I lost my one chance at saying goodbye.All my life,I shall wish I had chosen differently.Yet,I'll always know that I would(could) only choose this way.I wish I never had to choose.
Dearest God,it looks as if you're making me choose between my best friend's wedding and my aunt's funeral.Another choice I wished I would never have to make.Again,I already know which one I'll choose.
If it's like this for me,what must my Mom be going through? I vow to stand by her and be her rock.She shall not see an inch of my sorrow,the tiniest bit of my agony.It's why I'm writing--this is the only display of emotion I can afford.The gradient will make her outpouring of sorrow easier.
I wish you know that you were loved in your last moments,especially by a tiny little girl with scared eyes.She thought the world of you then.She thinks the world of you now.She will forever.Forgive her her stupidity.
May He bring peace to you.
I come home to find a parcel containing something that I'd ordered.I open it impatiently to find that it's exactly as I imagined it to be.I knock on my Mom's door,knowing that she's busy,yet all too eager to show her.She opens the door in the midst of a patient's consultation.The look on her face makes my stomach turn over.
Brain hemorrhage,she says.She's in the ICU.Not more than a week.They already got the forms signed.Need cash.Draw some when free.Her sentences are terse,probably trying to keep emotions at bay while she's at work.But her eyes are bottomless pools of agony.She promptly shuts the door and goes back to work.She's what they call a karmayogi. Professional to the last dot,even if it kills her.I gather she heard the news in the middle of her evening practice,and while others would have shut shop on the 20 people waiting,my Mom will maintain her composure till she finishes work and in the meanwhile talk to each of them as if it were just another day.I wonder what it feels like to put on a facade of perfect normalcy while your heart is being torn out.
I on the other hand,have no reason to maintain any facade.I am in complete solitude and at liberty to let my emotions out.I thought I was ready for this all along.I told myself from the day I heard that she had cancer.One year is all that's left.Steel yourself.It's inevitable.
And all this while,I lived under the illusion that I was ready.As soon as I came home for my holidays,I entreated my Mom to visit,urging her to go as her sister's days were numbered.Being able to say goodbye to a person while they're still conscious is a gift.I know what it is to not have that.I didn't want my Mom to be denied that.
A month ago,much to my relief, my Mom took my advice and booked her tickets.The second thing I begged of her was that I accompany her.In my heart,I knew this was my only chance.My Mom didn't agree,citing that I should stay and take care of my grandfather.She promised me that she would take me to see her sometime later.I argued and begged but my Mom didn't realise.She didn't feel the way I did.She thought there was time.Finally,I relented knowing that her adieu was far more important than mine.Mine was more selfish:I needed closure and a chance to see her.But hers was to severe off a tie of the soul--a tie that has survived 6 decades.Both of them need it.So I consoled myself.Today,I wish I had tried harder.I know that it is already too late.It is any moment now.
For one month,I have watched my Mom wake up post-midnight and shudder in fear and sorrow as the dogs howled right in front of our house.I have comforted her with logic and reason and sometimes just silence.I have shared not her fear but a bone chilling certainty of what was to be.Yet,I too did not believe the day would be here this soon.
I take out my card and start walking to the atm.Without any warning,my pent up grief hits me like a tsunami.I am almost blinded by the tears as I walk down the road.As is the way of the mind,I'm instantly taken to my childhood and interactions with her.
The first time I met my aunt was when I was 6 or 7.Unlike other children,I knew no relatives other than my parents.I had no idea what being pampered meant.We had gone to visit my grandmother,who was quite surly during that time and hated me at sight.Although she didn't vocalise it,I felt the hate all too well.I dreamt of being loved and pampered by grandparents like every other kid.Life had fun shattering that one. I now know and understand why she hated me for no fault of mine,and I don't feel sad about it.Human beings are creatures of emotion.The first law of emotion is that emotion is instinctive.It is not something we do willfully,we're not even conscious of it most of the times.
Two of my aunts were there during my visit.Maybe they felt my disappointment and sadness,or maybe they simply liked me.They asked my Mom if they could take me out and she of course,gave her approval.I hesitated for a minute,scared to trust these new people whom I had never met before.My mom reassured me.
I set off with them,one tiny hand encased in each of their palms.They treated me like a princess.I was taken to a restaurant and asked to order anything I liked.They fussed over me while I ate,suggesting other things I should try.Next stop was an ice-cream shop where I was again given the royal treatment.After that came shopping.I was taken clothes shopping,shoe shopping.Every shop in sight.I was shy and insisted that I didn't want anything,but they laughed away my pleas and bought me a dozen things.One slightly fond look at something and it would be mine.But it was not this that mattered.It was the feeling of being cherished.Of knowing that someone loved you enough to pamper you.By the end of the day,these two people had found a place in my heart.I adored them.Looked at them in awe.
My parents aren't much into social visits.That was the only time I went to meet them.But once they knew me,they always remembered.Every year,parcels used to arrive at my house.The traditional pattu pavadais.Chudidars later on.Sarees by the dozen of late.Jewelry that I disdained and locked away from my sight and mind.
I did not know how to reciprocate their love.I did the only thing I could think of as a 6-year-old kid.Asked for their birthdays and embedded them firmly into my brain.Every year,as soon as the day was there,I would ask my absent-minded Mom(who still has no idea of her own birthday) to call.I was still kind of scared to talk,so I would tell my Mom to convey my wishes.The gesture was a very small one,but I did it with a heart full of love.I don't know if it mattered.I hope it did.Her birthday is a few days away.She shall not live to see it:(
That first day is still vivid in my mind.I still remember the dress she got me.The slippers which had a slight heel--she coaxed my mom into letting me wear them.I was enthralled by them for quite some time.
Today,I sit here writing this,all my tears spent.It's been two hours since I've heard and it seems like time has stopped.It feels like a second ago.It feels like eternity.I don't know.
The last time I saw her was in October when it had already metastized into several parts of her brain.I did not know that,nor did she.One day over lunch,we were alone and she was very sad.As if she already knew.Somehow, I broke down.She cried with me.That has been one of the few times in life when I have actually cried in someone's presence.
I wish I had my turn at reciprocating her love.The last time she visited,she was desperately ill--she could hardly remember and yet,she made it a point to bring me a earring.She first gave it to me and then kept asking me if she did,for she could not remember.I was furious at the absurdity of it.To the point that I was even rude to her.You're dying and you're bothered about this goddamned earring!
Now,I look back and curse my short-tempered self.What endurance must it take for a person who couldn't remember if she had taken her own pills to do this?To actually remember something.To get it in your soul so firmly that even if your brain didn't function,you still remembered.Was it out of love for me?I don't know and I never will.I can't think of any other reason.I believe that she loved me as she would her own daughter,if she had one.
Materialistic gifts are a weird way of being affectionate,but it is sadly what most people follow.
I wish I had been kind to her.I wish I had spoken to her more.Told her how much she meant.But human beings are only wise in retrospect.I did none of this.Regrets are all I have now.The only consolation I have is that I did right by my mother.
In this moment of tragic sorrow,I almost pray that she will survive this.That they will call tomorrow and tell me that she's okay.But that would be very selfish and nothing else.She has suffered insanely and God knows she deserves peace.But it's his decision to make,not mine.
I lost my one chance at saying goodbye.All my life,I shall wish I had chosen differently.Yet,I'll always know that I would(could) only choose this way.I wish I never had to choose.
Dearest God,it looks as if you're making me choose between my best friend's wedding and my aunt's funeral.Another choice I wished I would never have to make.Again,I already know which one I'll choose.
If it's like this for me,what must my Mom be going through? I vow to stand by her and be her rock.She shall not see an inch of my sorrow,the tiniest bit of my agony.It's why I'm writing--this is the only display of emotion I can afford.The gradient will make her outpouring of sorrow easier.
I wish you know that you were loved in your last moments,especially by a tiny little girl with scared eyes.She thought the world of you then.She thinks the world of you now.She will forever.Forgive her her stupidity.
May He bring peace to you.
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