Atrocities of a real Life...

Om Sai Ram What I am about to explicate here is one excruciatingly irreparable segment from the life of a girl named Ela. This is just an elaboration of what I saw or felt and, trust me, no one can ever feel what this brave girl has been through and has faced during that time or may be still braving the after effects of that tragedy. It was in May ‘08 when I got to know that Ela’s father had some minor illness but being a typical Indian I also share this mentality that nothing is bad enough until the term “hospital” barges into conversation. And to my utmost dismay, the term barged in within a week. Ela was extremely worried as it was difficult for her to balance between her duties at home and her MBA training which required full attention. Moreover it was the wellness of her dad in question (whom she affectionately referred to as papaji) that multiplied the tension factor by the powers of ten. Ela’s dad, as I had once met and observed, was a very rational man who knew pretty well how to manage relations and keep the family happy. He wasn’t much of a speaker though. There was a kind of telepathic connection between him and Ela and may be that’s why Ela was always aware about the pressures and tensions that he was going through. Although he tried to hide them with a calm and smiling face but she always knew. Ela’s dad’s illness continued to be a matter of worry for more than a month now. She discussed it with me and I suggested her to take him to AIIMS (considering the repute of the institute) but her family had some eminent connections in GR hospital and that is where they took him. Although everyone in Ela’s family had complete faith in the doctors of Ganga Ram hospital but somewhere deep inside Ela was insecure. She wanted another opinion and therefore got wholeheartedly involved in getting her dad’s reports checked to every bigshot that she could lay her hands upon…including AIIMS…but fate has something else in store…something more abominable. Uncle’s health deteriorated day by day. His weight reduced promptly and he was not able to stand or even talk for long. Imagine a full grown man, who had the stamina to work day in day out for his family’s wellbeing, looking like a teenaged mal-nourished boy lying on a hospital bed. Doctors said that he is suffering from some kind of lung disease and the bacteria of which has spread inside the stomach and hence he cannot consume anything solid. He was kept on a liquid diet along with strong antibiotics and what not in the hospital’s medical store house. God knows if they were actually curing the man or just inflating the hospital’s monetary account. Anyways, the treatment showed very minor improvement in Uncle’s health within a week (I still doubt if he was actually improving or was it the action of steroids). As soon as doctors noticed the improvement, they discharged him and referred him for complete bed rest at home. Uncle got shifted form hospital to his home…apart from this nothing changed…diet and medicines were still the same…just the experienced doctors and nurses got replaced by un-experienced and panicked house members. May be the hospital had some more money to munch from other patients who were waiting for a bed to get empty in the hospital. The house members did everything within their powers to take Uncle’s care but the magnitude of the problem was much bigger. Ela used to talk to her dad, knowing that he is listening at all times. Sometimes when he spoke he just asked about his kids (Ela and her younger brother) and about their studies… not once did he mention about his pain, his misery, nor about the cannibal that was eating him from within. Ela could figure out the pain but she never expressed it in front of her anguished mother. She spent her lone hours reciting Sai Baba’s name, questioning him why is this happening to her dad, asking why it is not her instead of her dad….weeping quietly so that no one can hear. In front of everyone she was always a pillar of support, the most sensible person around…till date, I imagine what the source of support was for the otherwise sensitive Ela. One evening it happened that Ela was sitting besides her dad and her mother was preparing supper, rest of the family members where busy in their daily chores. Ela was talking to her dad and he was listening… unable to speak. Somehow Ela got a feeling that her dad is trying to tell her something…something important…but she could not really figure out what. Ela and her mother thought that he was asking for his medicines. They gave him the medicines after his regular liquid diet after which he fell asleep…sound like a child. Everything was ok. Ela, around midnight, came to her dad’s room, pretending to others and even to herself that she is just there to check if he wants anything or not but actually she was there to check if her dad was still breathing…he was. She went back to her room…contended…but still worried. The next morning, all of Ela’s worries sprang to life when she woke to mayhem in her house. She ran to her father’s room…her uncle told her that her dad has been unconscious…they didn’t know since when…it was then that she realized that her father was having some serious problem the previous day…he was trying to tell them about it…trying to give a hint that he require doctors…but could not because of his helplessness…he wasn’t asleep after dinner…he had fainted. They rushed him to Ganga Ram hospital again where he was immediately shifted into the ICU…Intensive care was what was required from the beginning but he had been discharged…how come? After examination, doctors told the dolorous family that the viral infection which was contained in the stomach until the day Ela’s dad was discharged has now engulfed his entire torso from within and has reached his throat within two days…marring his speech completely. Ela cursed herself for not being able to identify such an indication from her dad…on the other hand; the doctors who discharged her dad were quite professional in hiding their fault behind medical terms and procedures. The doctors were not able to operate on Ela’s dad because being on liquid diet and taking strong medicines has made him very feeble and his body could not have sustained the pressure of an operation. His body required blood. Everyone in Ela’s family had a diabetic history and hence doctors did not allow them to donate blood…Phones dangled…everyone called everyone they knew…Ela called me and her other friends. I reached the hospital with another friend of mine, Gaurav. We gave our names for blood donation but mine was rejected as I suffered from hepatitis three months back and hence could not donate blood for at least a year…I felt really helpless… I tried to make Ela smile with my silly on-the-spot jokes while Gaurav went for the donation…she smiled…but with weeping eyes. During that period whenever Ela smiled, accidentally, she thought that she is not allowed to smile in that condition and her eyes became wet…the smile used to get vanish within a span of seconds…not even minutes. No improvement was noted in uncle’s health for days and one day I got the news that he has been shifted to artificial respiration as he was not able to breath because of the cannibal feasting within him…I had heard that only miracles help a person to come back for artificial respiration…I was expecting one…every one was. Ela spent around 15 hours a day…yes 15 hours…for several days reciting Sai chalisa for that miracle to happen…that was her faith…it still is. I never wanted to leave Ela with all the despair that she was facing…Although I was not of much help but still I just wanted to be there…with her. When conditions became constant…not improved but constant…I left for my college in kurukshetra. Two days since I left, our classes started in full flow; I noticed Ela’s missed call on my mobile phone when I came back to my room. A sense of relief passed through me, assuming prematurely that some miracle has happened and uncle’s condition has improved now. Immediately, I called Ela to ask about the situation…for once, no one picked up. I called again. This time someone picked…it was Ela…but I could not understand anything because of loud noise…may be disturbance in network of an STD call…may be road traffic. I held the phone as close as possible to my ear. It was not any disturbance or traffic noise…it was people crying… shrieking loud voices in the background…then a sobbing sound that tore my heart into shreds…a sound that I could recognize anywhere…it was Ela’s. Then I spoke, keeping my fingers, heart, mind crossed that it should not be what the loud signs on a phone call were indicating…I was expecting something else, something magically else…I was just not comfortable to hear what my bloody mind has already figured out…What happened Ela? Why are you crying? What is all that noise? I was sounding so foolish…even to myself…not wanting to know the answer to my own question. She gave a loud cry…unable to breathe…then holding her anguish to answer…she said “Mere papaji nahi rahe dush”… My ears felt numb… I felt that if somehow these past 45 seconds get subtracted from my life, I would not call Ela at that time…not for her sake…but for mine…being brutally selfish. I disconnected the call. We went to Ela’s home the very next day, wanting to lessen her despair but being helpless. Finally we met her, she wasn’t weeping. She was just consoling her mother and brother against the wrath of that deplorable incident. Somehow she managed to contain her misery within herself but I knew that it was imploding within her. She sat with us in her room where the sound of Sai baba’s bhajans were mildly but continuously emanating from a player… No one spoke anything…Ela sat with numb, swollen eyes and tried not to let the tears cross the borders of her eyelids… but they did every now and then. It is going to be almost 8 months to that despairing incident now and Ela’s life has achieved its normalcy again but that fateful incident has created a black hole in her life. Whatever she may do to fill it, but it will never get filled. She has taken all the responsibilities as the family head that her father unwillingly left on her fragile shoulders and I am proud to say that she is carrying them off better than any of us who might boast of our maturity and capability to handle such situations… I can bet on it blindly…because somewhere and somehow I know, I just know that her father is still with her and is blessing her with all his aesthesia, sanity and patience. The absence is just physical. People like me can just write about this or can just be by her side for times to come but people like her actually prove that they can cast the hardships of life into a statue of their achievements….. God bless her!!