A Selfless Soul!!

Introduction

This is a true story about a lady whom I know since I was born, a lady who I believe is the next thing to God, a lady whom I call her as my mother and my best friend. She died of liver cancer on 20^th November 2009. Not a peaceful death, but a painful one. Life amuses me, I take life as an exemplary of hypocrisy, depict of falseness. Although I would want to portray God as the true Thanos in my life, but assuming the trust and love which my mother had in him, I am falsely portraying him as Captain Marvel of my life:

Chapter – 1: Happy Summers

My history with my mom has been that of two best friends. She always knew what I was upto and use to always come up with some excuse to save my butt from anyone, and I mean anyone, be it my father, sister, or as a matter of fact to believe to an extent, she would have certainly come up with an excuse to save me from the almighty. She loved me to an extent which was more than infinite. But as they say, realization comes with a great expense. That is what happened with me; it was too late until I realized her endless love and compassion towards me. It was the summer and I was just done with my graduation exams, me and four close friends of mine were in Pune to enjoy our vacations for 4-5 days. My mom, being my mom, treated all my friends as their own sons, spent time with us from her busy schedule. I remember those days, wherein we had just got out from some financial crisis, and it was important for my mother to work, and for her the work included 30-40 kms travel on her active on daily basis to fulfill orders. She used to work for her best friend, Shilpa mausi, whom I consider as one of the closest motherly figure I can have. Me and my friends used to roam Pune, go for sight seeings, have fun, drink alcohol without anyone knowing, of course, except for my mother, who at the end of the day used to ask me if I hadn’t had too much; and my typical answer used to be like a teenager, snapping at her, shouting and yelling like a rebel as if some grave acquisition has been made on me and my friends. But my mom being my mom used to smile and used to give me pocket money for the next day. With a smudge on my face I used to keep it in my pocket and think about the next day. The best part I remember about those days is how she used to get around with my friends, as if she has been their mother and a close friend since the very beginning. At night we used to go out for dinner, although a pinch on our family budget, my mom without having a second thought used to take us kids out for dinner. Post dinner we used to come back, chit chat with her, sing along. My mother came from a background where everyone had a keen affection towards music. My massi a Sangeet visharat and a teacher, my grandfather a violin player and my mother had the voice which would soothe anyone of their pain. She indeed had a beautiful voice. So those 3-4 days my gang really came to close my mother, discussing their life problems with her, singing along, talking about their girlfriends and what not. I remember my mother thanking me for bringing them along and giving them more sons to love and care about. Even they out of affection towards her started calling her Mumma. I remember one incident where we were locked out of house and my mom was supposed to take us in as she had the house keys and she was getting late. To compensate she even got us pastries and samosas. I was pretty upset on the fact that she kept me and my friends waiting outside the house. She came home at 6:00 PM and I behaved with her like a snobbish child, not talking to her, shouting at her, taunting her about how her work is more important than me. As soon as these words came out my mouth, tears rolled down her cheeks, she held me close and said, no my son, nothing is more important than you in my life. I am doing whatever is possible in the time I have. That was my hint, I should have understood or at least tried to make out of what she said that time and probed her on what she meant by whatever time she had left with me. But no, like a spoilt brat I was still throwing tantrums at her. She took them all and calmed me down and our day continued. After 4 days my friends and I left from Pune and came back to Mumbai to head for Goa. Although we left Pune, but all of them had engraved a special place for my mom in their heart. It was as if they were her children since the start. Well that was the magic of my mom, she used to win people by her actions, her words, her kindness.

Chapter – 2: The Accident

Post coming back from Goa with my friends, I started working in TCS. One day in September I got a call from dad saying that mom is not feeling well and that I should come to Pune as we have to take her for Sonography. I went to Pune on 14^th September 2009, taking an off for 3 days. I went to Pune and saw mom in pain, I asked her what happened. With a smile on her face, she used to say nothing happened my son, it just that she is tired and needs few days off. I remember she had her sonography on 16^th September, on 15^th evening, it was Tuesday, and my mother wanted to go to Ganpati temple. It was drizzling a bit hence we decided to take an auto than going on a bike. While coming back, we made a pit stop to take some vegetables. The vegetable vendor, an old lady, whom I had never met earlier looked at me and smiled and started hurling praises for my mother. She told me how my mother took care of her daughter’s wedding, how she takes care of her daily ration, how she is the shining light for her and her 78 year old husband. She had tears in her eyes while telling how my mom had helped her and supported her not just financially but emotionally. Her own son left her without a house, but my mom found a shelter for her and her husband and helped them set up the vegetable vendor stall. Somewhere at the bottom of my heart I was thoroughly touched, I felt yes, that’s my mother, kind hearted, always keeping other’s needs in front of hers. That old lady from her bottom of her heart kept her hand on my head and blessed me. We left from there and on our way our auto dashed against an electric pole and my left thigh bone because of the impact broke into two pieces and climbed on each other. For few seconds I did not realize what had happened, until I saw my leg folding from the middle of my thigh. I freaked out and started yelling at the top of my voice. My mother who had banded her head on the side rod forgot about her bleeding forehead and attended to my injury. That brave woman immediately took a decision and asked the auto to turn back and take her to Shaswat Hospital, which belongs to my second cousin, She called him and told him about the accident. Just besides the hospital there is a hotel named Prithvi, whose owner was one of those who has experienced my mother’s kind heartedness in some way. He too was phoned by my mother, I remember once our auto reached near the hospital, there were 3-4 ward boys of the hospital, a doctor, 2-3 managers of the hotel and the owner himself, Santosh, who were waiting to escort me inside the hospital. The thing with my mom, not exaggerating, is that she used to always attract people to her, as if it was a God’s gift, like how Jesus had his disciples or how Mohammed and his followers. My father too came immediately in the hospital to see me. I remember the doctors telling that they need to perform a major surgery on my leg, however they will not be able to perform the surgery till the time my swelling doesn’t wear off. It took a day for my swelling to wear of and my surgery was scheduled on 17^th September. It was a 4 hour surgery where they inserted a rod and few screws within my bone. Although I was under the influence of anesthesia but I clearly remember my mother being there with me al the time, whether it was preparing me for the operation or taking my out of the operation theatre or during those painful saline needles. I had to be looked after almost every hour since the medicines and saline’s were to be changed very frequently. For the medicines they used to pierce a needle through my left hand’s vein and then pass on the liquid, this used to happen at least ten times a day. With every piercing my pain used to increase and I used to cry due to this pain. I remember when the sister used to inject me the only comfort I used to get is when my mother used to keep her hand on my forehead and used to say. ‘my bacha, you are my strong bacha’ and use to gently rollover her hand on my head. I remember my friend taking a video of the nurse passing the medicine through a needle in my vein, and me going through excruciating pain, but the pain disappearing immediately once my mom had her hand on my forehead. That really used to calm me down. She used to take care of me, take me to the bathroom, feed me, sleep besides me at night. I do not remember she going away from my sight even for a moment. Amidst all this, we all forgot about her sonography. Not just us, but even my mom, who used to have painful cramps in her stomach forgot about her treatment and her checkup. Post a week, I was brought back to home where I was advised a bed rest for 2 months.

Chapter – 3: The Decline

My sister and my massi had come from Mumbai to visit me. Couple of days post me coming home, my mother’s pain in her abdomen started increasing. The frequency of the cramps in her stomach grew and became more excruciating. Although she was prescriber medicines by the doctor but they were of negligible effect. We had to do her biopsy to get some concrete results. Although I believed that this pain was caused due to her hectic schedule spent taking care of me and I always thought that she will be fine once she rests for few days. The most dreadful day of my life came on 24^th September 2009 when her biopsy and sonography results came back. That morning, my sister woke me up and asked her to follow me to our balcony. We went there and she told me that you’ve to be strong and not react to the thing that I am going to tell you. To my disbelief she told me that my mother has a last stage liver cancer and she has few days left with us. I remember I had a walker in my hand as I was unable to walk on my feet, but at that very moment I felt like th earth has been snatched away from my feet and I am falling in an endless pit. I could not believe what she had said. I asked her twice thrice on how sure they were, which all doctors they showed the test results to. At least five doctors including our family friend who was a t a very high post in Johnson and Johnson was asked and all of them had one single opinion – keep her happy in whatever remaining days he has. It was as if my world was snatched from me. That moment was nothing less than having your heart pierced by thousand knives. I couldn’t stand at all, but my sister asked me to stay strong and be normal since we hadn’t told this to my mom. She told me that we are still trying, not given up hopes, but she wanted me to be aware of this bitter reality which I was not accepting.

As days passed my mother’s abdominal pain started to increase. She used to cry out of pain. We had two beds in our living room, of which on one I was lying with my leg all wrapped up, helplessly watching my mom who was on the other bed cry out of the excruciating pain she was suffering from. I used to console her, distract her, calm her from her pain but nothing was helping her. She used to hold her stomach and cry from those cramps and I sed to helplessly watch and hide my tears within. That was the time where I hated myself for being the handicapped person who couldn’t be there besides his mom who was suffering from excruciating pain. All I did was just watch her in pain lying on the other bed. I could not do anything for her. There was a guilt in my mind, there still is and I am living with this guilt till date and I shall carry on this guilt with me, a part of my suffering that will keep on reminding me that I did not go anything for my mother then. I may lose my identity once but I do not want to lose on this pain since I want myself to remind me of what I could not do to save my mother. I spent almost an entire month on that bed looking at my mom cry in pain getting numerous treatments which were ineffective. That’s possibly the worst phase of my life. I pray to God, in case he is listening since he wasn’t then, that no child should go through such terrible pain and suffering of being so helpless and watching his mother suffer in pain. I used to somehow walk on one leg and go besides her, hold her hand, hug her to ease her pain. This would bring a smile on her face. I used to think, that how come someone can even smile in such a circumstance. It was as if she forgot about her pain when I was besides her.

Chapter 4 – The End

We had kept about her cancer only to our closed circle. October last week was the time of Diwali. Her closed ones were informed that this is their last chance of spending time with her. My mama and his family flew down from Bangalore to spend time with her during Diwali. That was the time when we celebrated Diwali together, played ankatshari sang songs. Fortunately I have a recording of those moments, the last recording of my mother, which I play when I miss her and I am alone. November 1^st, we shifted at my Uncle’s place as my mother’s health was further deteriorating. The frequency of cramps in her abdomen increased as well, but she never let anyone knew of her pain as she thought it might disturb us. What can I say, even in this condition she kept others in front of her own pain! I remember one incident when we were having lunch in the kitchen and mom was sitting in the bedroom. I could hear a muffled scream from inside the bedroom and I left my food and went inside to check on her and there she was, holding her stomach in one hand and keeping her other hand on her mouth to lower her scream, she was getting another one of those painful cramps, but only because we were having lunch, she didn’t want to disturb us. That was the time when I could not control my tears and I simply broke down and hugged her. I did not want to let go her and in my mind was just hoping for a  miracle. I was recovering from my leg injury and was allowed to walk on one leg with the support of the walker within house. I spent most of the time with mom, trying to pacify her pain, telling her jokes, distracting her from her pain. The cancer got better of her and on November 12^th she was admitted to the hospital as her health deteriorated further. During that time she also suffered from Jaundice, the doctors predicted it since her Cancer spread and reached her liver. She was immediately moved to ICU on 14^th November. I was allowed to visit her in a gap of two days since even I was recovering. It was a strict no for me to step out of the house as any strain on my injured leg would have caused grave damage to it. Since it was 14^th Nov, children’s day, I could not resist meeting her. I asked Shilpa mausi to take me with her to meet mom. As I entered her ICU room I saw her. There was a food pipe inserted in her nose as she was not able to eat solid food. I saw her condition and broke down in tears. I could not see her in this condition, I burst into tears. That day I was not able to swallow a single morsel of food, all I could think was about my mom’s condition and how she was not able to have solid food. I did not eat that night and the thought of me not being able to be with her was just killing me from inside. I could not sleep. The whole night I was just sobbing like a small baby who misses his mother. I still had a glimpse of hope within. Everyday I used to stand in front of God and question him, why, why are you doing this to a person who has done nothing but good deeds her entire life. All she has done is kept others in front of her, she has always helped the needy ones and have stood besides them in their worst of times. I remember one such incident where she helped a newly appointed 65 year old watchman in her office who was sobbing as he needed money for his daughter’s wedding. The office was not ready to give him any advance as he was newly appointed. My mother saw him crying and asked him, upon knowing his situation, without asking how he will repay the money or where would he use it, she gave away her entire salary to him and just said that let the wedding happen the way you want it to happen. These were just few of her known good deeds that have come front; God knows how many such people my mom has helped selflessly and made a positive difference in their lives.

I started questioning God that how can you allow such a kind hearted woman suffer like this, Is this his way of justice, ig you need her in heaven why don’t you just call her up immediately, why ler her suffer so badly. I remember once having a conversation with my mother during her sickness, when she told me it is Tuesday and that I must visit the temple. I straight away denied and told her that there isn’t any God, if there was any then why did he give you so much pain. You believed in him, you worshiped him; you did all kind of good deeds, then why make his disciple go through such pain, such suffering. She smiled at me and placed my head on her shoulder and told me, “that son, God came to meet her few days back and told her that she had few days of her life left and that he wanted to take her along with him and relieve her of her pain and suffering. But I denied it; I told him that I want to spend whatever time I have got with my son and my family. I want to be with them, ensure that they are fine, and ensure that they continue to live their lives even after I am gone from here. God told me that there will be lot of pain and suffering and he will not be able to help her in that, she doesn’t deserve this pain and that she should come with him immediately to avoid this pain. But I rightfully denied it as no suffering and pain is worth the time I would miss not spending with my family. For me the greatest suffering would be not being able to say proper goodbye to my child and my family.”  As she finished her story tears rolled down my eyes and just hugged her, it was a surreal moment, as if I do not want to let go off her.

On November 18^th morning, I got to know that my mom’s jaundice was spread till her brain and she is hardly recognizing anyone. She did not recognize most of the people who came to say their good byes. I was told about that and was informed not to feel bad if she does not recognize you as the jaundice has spread to her brain. IN my heart I always knew that she might forget the whole world but she will never forget her son. With a heavy heart I went in her room, she saw me and her eyes sparkled. Shilpa massi had accompanied me and she asked my mom whether or not she recognized me. My mom amidst all the pain smiled whole heartedly and said, “maza bacha” held me closely and kissed my forehead. She took me near her and whispered in my ears that take care of everyone while I am gone. I just stormed out of that room and started weeping. Shilpa massi came outside after me to console me, telling my things will be alright, but I knew that was my last goodbye to my mother. I came back home having this big hole in my heart, like my world has come to an end expecting the worst to happen. And it happened on 20^th November 2009 at 10: 30 am in the morning when my grandmother came home crying. I asked her what happened and with a heavy heart she told me that my mother has passed away. I broke, the first thing I did was enclosed Ganapti’s frame in a box, I don’t know why, but that was my first reaction, I just took the frame and enclosed it in a box. I cried, I cried a lot and could not believe the fact that the support system of my life has left me forever. The four friends who used to call her Mumma were informed about this incident and they too were shattered. The entire journey from Mumbai to Pune they too were crying like small babies. This was the impact she had on them. At her funeral there were hundreds of people who had turned up. Many of them were unfamiliar faces; most of them who had genuine tears in their eyes were a result of my mother’s kind deeds towards them, including the watchman and the vegetable vendor who too were present at the funeral. My mother was a kind hearted lady. She has created a special place in everyone’s heart and shall always be there.

Since her death, I haven’t been myself. Somewhere deep within there is a guilt which is eating me from within, guilt of not being able to help her, not being able to be with her when she needed me the most. I was lying on another bed like a helpless handicapped not fulfilling a duty of a son and helping her. I failed her as a son, I let her die, and this is a guilt which I will always carry in my heart no matter what. This has become an integral part of me and it comes out every now and then and reminds me of what I could not do. This is one thorn which I never want to pluck out my heart. If I do, then my heart will cry for once instead forever and let go off those painful memories. I don’t deserve to be washed of those memories. There is no peace in that. There is no good in that.

Sometimes I believe in my mother’s story of God giving her choice of taking away her pain, and I believe in him, but then I think as to why this situation had to come to her in the first place. Goodness is needed here on earth where there are fewer people like my mom. Why take away that goodness, and that is where my faith in him gets shaken.