My aunt is an extraordinary woman and she has always been an inspiration in the family. Even as she walks into a room, one can feel the flow of positive energy. Maybe, it was her sparkling eyes or beautiful features that made her look regal in stature. She is blessed with a honey tongue and no one has ever seen her lose her composure.
She was 67 years old when I visited her at her Bangalore residence. I had come to India from UK on a 3 months break and intended to spend a month with her. She is a widow; her husband died in a plane crash and did not have any issues.
We all remember the sorrow of that bereavement – she just lost it all and was bedridden for better part of a year. She was clinically depressed and no expenses were spared to get her to the side of the living. Since then, she has made herself useful by teaching street children in the neighbourhood and making progress in spiritual studies by attending the weekend classes of a Swamiji in Chinmaya Mission.
She hugged me as I landed at B’lore airport as she drove to Indranagar in her Scorpio. She was eager for news at my end: wife doing a course in fashion designing while the children were coping rather well to a new culture. I was recently promoted to the level of Vice President at the bank and so far so good. Looking at her, I realized that she had aged so gracefully and seemed far more at peace with herself than what my recent run of prosperity fetched me.
She treated me to all my favourite dishes and went upon her assignments. She had made a classroom of the terrace and everyday about 20 street children came in for some tutoring in addition to dinner being served on the house. During the day, she was busy either in transcription of the notes in the spiritual classes or just practicing her slokas chanting. I mused: blessed would be if I can live like that in my old age.
Last week, she had a sonogram done for a tumour in the liver that was giving her digestion problems. I was with her when the report came in at Manipal Hospitals. The doctor simply said,” It is malignant and she has cancer”.
I drove the car on the return journey and none spoke a word unable to digest the diagnosis. She seemed to be playing her life on her mental screen and I knew better than to offer an empty assurance.
It just took her three days to work on her fears and by the fourth evening was as cheerful as ever.
She escorted me to the hospital for more news on her ailment as she quizzed the doctors.
What is the nature of the disease? What is the mechanism of progression? What are the dos and don’ts? Are their any reliable websites on lymph sarcoma of the liver? What is the percentage of survival? What was special about them that they scraped through while the others succumbed? What are the treatment options?
Even the doctors were surprised and must say, pleasantly for here was a woman willing to be a co-partner in her recovery.
My holidays came to an end and I left her with the darkest forebodings. She winked as she said,” I shall survive this too for the children need me and the God is still merciful enough to keep me ticking till my 80s”.
I do call now and then from London and news is that she is doing well. I went there to keep her company instead she taught me how to live. (621 words)
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