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 20th 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 14th
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 16th September, on 15th
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 17th 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 24th 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 1st, 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 12th 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 14th 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 14th 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 18th 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 20th 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.
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