Hallelujah

I was driving back home. It was late and I hauled my car, the traffic lights were red. My thoughts were as loud as the engine of my car. I have been in such a state before, though, today was different. I stared at the red light of the lamp and as soon as I blinked, I was not in my car. I was in middle of the void. And soon the void started fading into a memory of a day that I wished I could re-live again, and again. I never wanted it to end. I was standing in front of the operation theater. Waiting for the doctor to come out. Hoping for some good news. I was losing the most important aspect of my life, and there was nothing I could do. Hope is a dangerous thing... I was waiting outside the OT, and I and that was the day I realized what anxiety actually feels like. Dad was standing next to me, and all we hoped was, for a good news. I just wanted to hear for once, that Maa was fine. There's never a good time to lose someone, and the thought of losing Maa ate me up. I was a helpless teen, and it all happened way too soon. Dad insisted that I stay at home with my little sister, but I wanted to go. I wanted to let her know that I was there. I wanted to tell her that I never ate Golgappas like we did. And that I wanted to do other stupid things with her. I wanted to cry out loud, I wanted to hold her hand, I wanted to lay my head on her lap, I... I could not stay at home. My dad is a strong man, but I knew this broke him too, so as a kid with warm blood, I wanted to stand next to him. I wanted to hug him and let him know. I wanted to let him know I wasn't fine, but I knew he wasn't either. Life would have been different if Maa came out of the OT all fine. Yes, Cancer is a deadly disease, but it's not only the person with it who suffers. With them, the family suffers too. We were happy.

And with setting sun, the day ended. I was 14 when I learned how to drive a car. I remember Maa sitting next to me, all scared. It was a happy day. We were not prepared to lose her. It was not much after she got better, she was sick again. Dad took her  to the Hospital. I was restless, waiting for them at our home. As soon as they arrived, I flooded them with questions, and when Dad said it was a viral fever, and Maa will get fine soon. I was a child, I believed him. I soon discovered Maa had cancer. I just thought it was a disease, just like a cough or fever. I did not know what it does to a person, or to the family of the person. It's worst for the patient, but it's no less for the family. As Maa became sick with every passing day. She became weaker. I wasn't one of those religious kids, and I did not believe in God. But looking at Maa like that, I was willing to pray, kneel; whatever it took. Cancer was spreading in her body. And God seemed like the only hope at that time. I couldn't see Maa like that. Maa always said that the Bad times were important, they made us realise the importance of the good times. We were losing her with every passing day, and it was killing us from the inside that we couldn't do anything. I promised myself – I had to be strong. I had to take care of Maa. I wanted to be strong, like Dad was. Maa was the Love of her life. I wanted to take care of him, I wanted to take care of everyone. It was a difficult time for our family. I was losing my Mom, and he was losing his beloved wife. I've never seen Dad this helpless before. He never bought it to our notice, but the eyes don't lie.

The story of how Dad met Maa is not just another love story. And it was not just an emotion. I have felt the love, the closeness, of how raw love feels like. Science says we only see those people in our dreams that we have seen before earlier. And to negate this equation, came in Dad. Maa appeared in his dreams even though they lived kilometers apart. Their love story could easily pass for a vintage Bollywood movie. Dad lived in Haryana, and Maa was from Gujarat. Dad was visiting a friend in Vadodara, who recently started his business there. When Dad visited his shop, there Maa was. There were no poems, that even came close to describe the beauty of the moment. Dad inquired about her and turned out she was the Sister of his friends' friend. The “silsila” went on for some time after which Dad started a business there. My aunt and Dad became friends, and she helped him get a date with Maa. That's how it started. Dad, then had to go to Haryana back due to some business related work. Maa's father found out about her and Dad, and he was disappointed and angry. He arranged Maa's marriage and Dad heard about it from his friend. Dad was from Haryana, and he did not waste a second there. He, along with Dada and Dadi left for Vadodara. And like any successful Bollywood story, he managed to convince Maa's family. The wedding was terminated and here I am today, a product of two wonderful genes. So was their love, wonderful. Dad never hesitated to drive long distance even at 2 in the night to get any specific medication for mom. I could see him break. Things started to fall into place. Maa was getting better. Prayers were answered. Maa was cured. We haven't been that happy. Happy doesn't describe the emotion. Not even close. Maa was right. The difficult times made us realize the value of this one. The one that we prayed for long. She came back home after a year. And with her back again, home felt like home again. We held on the moment. We held on to her. She was advised rest and we made sure she had plenty. Mansi and I were waiting for this trip we planned once Maa was back. We went to Himachal and no trip has topped the list ever since. It was a special trip for all of us. We were all together. Happy. The family. We returned home and after a few days Maa started to feel sick, again. She had to be admitted to the hospital again. Her body became weak. Cancer came back, stronger this time. Maa's immune system was insufficient and couldn't fight back. The Operation was done, and it was successful. But she still had to fight some more, she wasn't completely cured. We decided to move her back to Vadodara, back to the Doctor who treated her previously and in the December of '12 she went back. It was 22nd of December; Maa collapsed as I was speaking to Dada on phone. I was agitated, and got into a fight with my friend. I spoke to Dad and we left for Vadodara soon. We went to the hospital straight-away. Maa didn't want me and Mansi to see her in that condition, but we stayed. We stayed there for two days. She could hardly speak or walk. She used to rest on her bed all day long. We had hope, and we came back. Days passed. She said she was fine every time we spoke and that she will be home soon. We had a 10-15 minute gate of talking to her, and the two children fought. We both wanted to talk to her at first. We figured out that we lost the time fighting. Maa was worried that I will keep on fighting with Mansi. And she wasn't wrong, we were two kids.

It was around my 18th birthday – I went to meet Maa along with Dad. Mansi had her exams, so she had to stay. Dad was returning and he asked me to come along. I wanted to stay. I had days-off and I refused to go back. I stayed with Maa. For a major part of my life, I wasn't sure who I was as a person. And in those three-weeks that I spent there, I evolved. I sensed the silence before the storm. When your gut tells you that something bad is about to happen, what do you do? I spent a lot of time with Maa. She narrated stories to me, she told me about her mistakes. We discussed her good times, and the worst hours. She told me how Dad's support help her fight back Cancer. She also said she couldn't have done it without me, but I did nothing apart from getting anxious and agitated. She was glad that Mansi and I grew out mature and wise. “Take care of Mansi. She is 12. And do not pester your father. I wish I could stay, but I can't help it.” Imagine breathing. Air, going in, absorbed and released. Now with every passing second, it becomes difficult to breathe. Until, a point when you struggle for air. For a single gasp. This is what it felt like. I looked upto her my whole life, and I was looking at her go. She was suffering and she wanted to be relieved of this pain. She wanted to fade away. Her body was becoming weak, we were sitting in the car and were heading to the hospital. Maa was sitting next to me. She was in the state of a breakdown, and Dad was not in town. I was frightened. All I wanted to do was tell her I am here by her side. That I won't leave her. That everything will be fine.. I used sit right next to her in the I.C.U. And I would be there most of the time. The thought of her needing me, and calling out my name would help me stay awake for long nights. 12 days. I stayed there for 12 days. Whenever I spoke to Dad, I would tell him she is fine and was getting better. Dad was at a property that he wanted to gift to Maa, her “dream house”. It was a dream since 2003 until now. Everything was done, and Dad left for Vaishno Devi to pray for Maa. I called Dad and asked him to come to Vadodara as soon as he could because I was scared. I was terrified. I watched Maa getting weaker with every passing day. Whenever I was there, I hardly got any sleep, so I took a short nap that night, next to Maa's bed. I woke up and Dad was there. I hugged him firmly and I begged him to save Maa. I had a nightmare. I did not realise that all I had were 12 more hours. Maa wasn't able to speak – she had a food pipe down her mouth. She still tried to talk. She looked at her parents, thanking them for being there, always, and she was trying to tell her siblings about the flabbergasting moments they shared. She looked at Dad and tried to tell him to stay strong, and that she loved him more than anything. She was looking for her beautiful daughter, who was far away and had no idea she was leaving. And then she looked at me. I was standing right next to her. I would never let her go, if I could. She told me to be a good brother and a good son. A good human. She said I was the best son any mother could ask for and she said was proud of me and she felt happy. She wanted to convey to us all, that we all were important to her. She couldn't speak, and her tears depicted her emotion. And then there was silence. She was no more with us. God took her back. I could have cried a river, but in that moment of void, I felt a loss so strong, that every emotion seemed to be lost that day. I had no clue as of how to live without her. Maybe I will figure it out. Maybe we all will.

It has been 6 years since, but we still haven't figured out yet. You taught me well and thank you for enlightening me. We live in your “dream house” and it still doesn't qualify as a home. I know you are at peace, watching over us. I still don't eat Golgappas like we did. The cars were honking behind me. The traffic light turned green. I started the car, and drove back home.