"48 hours" the doctors say. she's a year younger, slipping away into peaceful sleep, the sort of sleep that has no awakening. we haven't met much, but she is like a sister, very close to my heart. i can't say why i am writing this, i don't know what to say really, "R.I.P" or "you're better off up there" or "you'll live in our hearts" and such crap don't make sense at all! i'll miss her very very much. "48 hours" is that little glimmer of hope, which i know will fail me. god i wish many more birthdays for her. and it's so unfair that she has to go this way. we all knew this had to come, we prepared ourselves to face it, its still a shock that this moment is arriving.
Apraajeeta aka Appi, (name changed) my dad's bestfriend's daughter. i'm not sure if she turned 20. her mum runs a bootique and god she looked so elegant. petite, that little face and that cute giggle and the way she spoke, so calm, collected and well, respectful. very very respectful. though i am just a year elder than her, she addressed me as akka, meaning elder sister in Telugu. even we treated her like a child, maybe because she never grew. the hight of a dwarf - but how does it matter?
i've always known her with a liver disease. the elders spoke about it and we were never to question. but i have a vague memory of asking, during my early teenage days. mum explained patiently and all i remember is that she won't live for long. wow, she was never given the chance to dream of a long, happy and healthy life. we all want our fairytale, cute and clichét, but she was always told to live a short life long. god she braved it! words fail me, it's so difficult to go on. no, i am sure she won't be very happy reading this, because i know, too much of sympathising and empathising don't float our boat! we are a little different, we have bodyparts that aren't too kind to us. eyes in my case, liver in hers. we've never wanted sympathy and empathy, we lothe those emotions, and we can not handle it! i was scared to ask mum, so i asked her.
"are you unwell? what's wrong with your health?"
"nothing at all. why do you ask?" she asked, aiming at nonchalance with success. she did not answer.
i was 11, she was 10. and clearly, i would have answered in the same way had someone asked me about my eyesight.
the world needs to know, heros like her lived, she had the truth presented naked in front of her - everytime someone met her, they expressed their simpathy. she lived till 20, obviously she was used to it, but still. again, a vague memory - "when i'm an older woman..." what? no, no more of it i can remember. then her mum repeated it to her dad "when she's an older woman..."
six months ago i heard of her again. mum was out when she got a call from her family. and it was no good news. she was diagnosed with liver cancer. cancer, the sideeffect of her medication. it had already spread to her lungues then and the doctors informed that she was too weak to survive the radiotherapy. now that's called a heartbreak. we, young women sob for the men who leave us! her parents had planned a liver transplantation for her. it took them years to earn to afford a highly expensive and uncertain surgery for their only daughter, and it was too late by then. mum was shakened, she did not speak to her family after that phone call. she didn't know what to say, she kept thinking about it and she cried a little at the thought. dad went for their house warming ceremony. they had planned it so that their relatives from around the world could visit her for one last time. dad described her as "fragile". we spoke to her over the phone and she was delighted to speak to us after so long. my throat knotted but i could hold it in. it was wonderful to hear her voice. i congratulated her. she had the choice to not study. they said high amounts of pressure could cause epilepsy, but she took it onto herself, the 12th board exams in the Medicle stream - something we crib about all the time. she aced it with grades above 85. she aspired to become a doctor. god, you could have spared her another 10 years, you saw the spark in her.
this was the time when one of my friends was highly disturbed about his brother's cancer, somewhare near the throat, it eventually affected the food pipe, and days after, sometime in February, he left behind a young wife and a son around 10 years old. life doesn't just stop for the heaven dwellers, does it? but heaven dwellers, really? i just can't muster the courage to say dead!
then there's the fault in our stars. what a desirable love story. the book is tragic, beautiful and fiction, but talking about the movie - the terminally ill cancer patient, the heroine has perfect skin, perfect hair and a history of radiotherapy sessions. she bumps into an ultra-gorgeous, extremely chivalrous gentleman who falls for her even when she does absolutely nothing to impress him. what does it lead to? puberty hitting, discovering and sexually frustrated women craving to share the story with the protagonist. films really need to grow realistic. cancer is the last thing anyone should romantisize about, please, it isn't cool at all.
dad is leaving to see Appi tomorrow. mum was telling us about the pictures of her craft that Appi had uploaded on facebook. she was selling them. i heard mum telling dad to buy a few for us.
the last time Appi spoke to me over the phone, after her cancer diagnosis, she said she wanted to come visit us in Delhi. but the doctors forbade her from travelling. mum called up and her dad was telling her about how Appi had been criing for going to hyderabad day before yesterday. she fell weak while travelling and threw up blood. the doctors informed that she would slip into coma and she did, at the given time, around 1:30 in the afternoon. they took her home. we have only 48 hours, they say. math counts lesser.
we don't want to do this, but we are counting down, hour after hour, minute after minute. and you know what? Appi was never told she has cancer. she kept looking forward to the liver transplantation. i can't really say if it is right, because her parents didn't want her to suffer. she deserved a normal life, and she lived it.
editing:
Appi is gone. it's her amma's birthday today.
Friday, 27 June 2014
Tuesday, 24 June 2014
Babydoll's guestpost
Perfection is elusive and also; unnecessary not to mention, impossible. But it still has a lot of fans. Scores of people trying harder with every morn to achieve a little part of it; to fake it or to be destroyed chasing it… only to realize it doesn’t exist. For those few who still manage to pick themselves up, dust themselves off and move on with a smile on their face are lucky. But those who can’t; they exist but don’t really live unless they being their imperfect self, bump into someone. Someone different. Someone perfect.
I first saw S at the college. She was so enthusiastic about the first day of college. You know the type; it was a first day of my college journey- I will study so hard and be perfect – look at all these new people I’m meeting- I’m growing up kind of day. The kind of day when your mental refrain is a nauseously happy American song about being happy. I had that song in my head too; on repeat, but by habit I don’t talk about these things. By a very bad habit I mean, of constantly preferring to be a cold distant observer in any new situation. She is the perfect opposite. S was pouring her heart out to anyone who would listen, making best friends by the minute. I smiled and stood alone. We met at the departmental orientation. I was the girl who asked so if our classes start from the second period on a particular day, do we turn up straightaway for the second period or the first. Someone said, “Could you please accompany me to the college gate?” I said yes and I held her hand; that was the first time I held her hand in the years to come. Each time with a different emotion, purpose, destination but each time with a stronger bond. She asked me about me and told me we’re from the same state, from a city I had never heard of. We didn’t see each other for a while after that. But something stuck. Something always sticks about S. it’s impossible to meet her and not have an afterthought about her days, weeks later. She impinges on memory. I quizzed my dad on where this city was that I’d never heard of and he said there was no such city. I was confused but quite amused. And it was just the beginning.
It was sweet and sour initially. I was an aloof judge-y bitch and she was the queen of sunshine. Always doing something new, always sharing it with people, always smiling and discovering new things. Always friendly. I was amazed to be quite honest. I wondered how it was possible; to always like people and always be liked by them. I liked her too no doubt; on the good days when I absorbed a bit of the sunshine and even on the sour days when I didn’t say anything but she still sat by me.
I can’t point out the exact moment when I thought that this woman will be one of my closest friends for life. But I did think of it at several points. The times when we spontaneously decided to paint the town red, the parts where we discovered our mutual love for junk food, and even the parts with the boy talk; sharing everything with each other, our aspirations, ideas, fantasies and even fears, remorse and guilt. There were tough times, there were blank phases. But I knew that I will never let go and neither will she. She was always so giving… she’s the kind of person who plans for people’s birthday gifts a month in advance, the kind of person who hears shit from people and bears it to collect money for a poor person’s hospital visit who she thought was sick and she thought was her friend. You know, the kind of girl who when decides to love someone does so with the entirety of her tan, man and dhan. Tere pyar mein fana ho jau and all that.
Of course, I was a bit perturbed. I get a little uncomfortable around too much perfection. I didn’t say much because she was happy, so perfectly happy. And then it happened, the quintessential college heartbreak, twice and almost simultaneously. It was cool at first, something new! Something beautiful, something venerated and made perfect in dozens of pop culture books, films and what not. They call it the greatest emotion on earth. The purest part that everyone craves for, but few get. S did not get what she deserved- something pure. But being S, she imagined it was pure and went along with it. She was head over heels in love. And in this case, gorgeous branded 2k heels with neon motifs way above the standards of the one it went over the head for.
She came undone. Everyday a new phone call, everyday a new story of how people disliked her, avoided her, hurt her. I was disturbed and these stories didn’t fall into place. How could the sunshine S I know be disliked? Surely she was just being too harsh on herself? Surely, its just the heartbreak talking? Just the heartbreak… for tan man dhan chicks like us a heartbreak is never “just”.
There were bad days. As in I want to put the world on fire- be surly all day- everything I do turns to shit kind of days. There were many inspired days, I will begin again days. There were let me distract myself days. There were I’m totally lost days and there were happy days that ended in tears.
Slowly, with ever weakening, ever resolving strength she found herself again. That’s when I saw it. Perfection. It was never in constantly being liked or liking. It was never in meaningless friendly interactions. It was in her will to live, to really live not just exist.to learn something new and execute it, to accept, to move on, to adorn oneself. I saw that girl who sat for hours, touching every piece of jewellery in her bulging jewellery bags with a satisfied smile on her face. “you’ll get used to my madness.” She said then. Little did I know we would both get used to each other’s madness and what not. The heartbreaks helped put life in perspective for her and for me. And there are tears here and there, there always will be. And somewhere in-between it will find its way; hot and pulping- perfection.
Not in the non-klutz-y, non-creased clothes, perfect comebacks kind of way.
But in the I have something stuck in my teeth, lets laugh at fake bitches, lets gorge on doughnuts, I have a big smile on my face, my nails are neon, my hair is flying kind of way. Its something we tan man dhan chicks are quite good at!
I love you S! I always will!
I first saw S at the college. She was so enthusiastic about the first day of college. You know the type; it was a first day of my college journey- I will study so hard and be perfect – look at all these new people I’m meeting- I’m growing up kind of day. The kind of day when your mental refrain is a nauseously happy American song about being happy. I had that song in my head too; on repeat, but by habit I don’t talk about these things. By a very bad habit I mean, of constantly preferring to be a cold distant observer in any new situation. She is the perfect opposite. S was pouring her heart out to anyone who would listen, making best friends by the minute. I smiled and stood alone. We met at the departmental orientation. I was the girl who asked so if our classes start from the second period on a particular day, do we turn up straightaway for the second period or the first. Someone said, “Could you please accompany me to the college gate?” I said yes and I held her hand; that was the first time I held her hand in the years to come. Each time with a different emotion, purpose, destination but each time with a stronger bond. She asked me about me and told me we’re from the same state, from a city I had never heard of. We didn’t see each other for a while after that. But something stuck. Something always sticks about S. it’s impossible to meet her and not have an afterthought about her days, weeks later. She impinges on memory. I quizzed my dad on where this city was that I’d never heard of and he said there was no such city. I was confused but quite amused. And it was just the beginning.
It was sweet and sour initially. I was an aloof judge-y bitch and she was the queen of sunshine. Always doing something new, always sharing it with people, always smiling and discovering new things. Always friendly. I was amazed to be quite honest. I wondered how it was possible; to always like people and always be liked by them. I liked her too no doubt; on the good days when I absorbed a bit of the sunshine and even on the sour days when I didn’t say anything but she still sat by me.
I can’t point out the exact moment when I thought that this woman will be one of my closest friends for life. But I did think of it at several points. The times when we spontaneously decided to paint the town red, the parts where we discovered our mutual love for junk food, and even the parts with the boy talk; sharing everything with each other, our aspirations, ideas, fantasies and even fears, remorse and guilt. There were tough times, there were blank phases. But I knew that I will never let go and neither will she. She was always so giving… she’s the kind of person who plans for people’s birthday gifts a month in advance, the kind of person who hears shit from people and bears it to collect money for a poor person’s hospital visit who she thought was sick and she thought was her friend. You know, the kind of girl who when decides to love someone does so with the entirety of her tan, man and dhan. Tere pyar mein fana ho jau and all that.
Of course, I was a bit perturbed. I get a little uncomfortable around too much perfection. I didn’t say much because she was happy, so perfectly happy. And then it happened, the quintessential college heartbreak, twice and almost simultaneously. It was cool at first, something new! Something beautiful, something venerated and made perfect in dozens of pop culture books, films and what not. They call it the greatest emotion on earth. The purest part that everyone craves for, but few get. S did not get what she deserved- something pure. But being S, she imagined it was pure and went along with it. She was head over heels in love. And in this case, gorgeous branded 2k heels with neon motifs way above the standards of the one it went over the head for.
She came undone. Everyday a new phone call, everyday a new story of how people disliked her, avoided her, hurt her. I was disturbed and these stories didn’t fall into place. How could the sunshine S I know be disliked? Surely she was just being too harsh on herself? Surely, its just the heartbreak talking? Just the heartbreak… for tan man dhan chicks like us a heartbreak is never “just”.
There were bad days. As in I want to put the world on fire- be surly all day- everything I do turns to shit kind of days. There were many inspired days, I will begin again days. There were let me distract myself days. There were I’m totally lost days and there were happy days that ended in tears.
Slowly, with ever weakening, ever resolving strength she found herself again. That’s when I saw it. Perfection. It was never in constantly being liked or liking. It was never in meaningless friendly interactions. It was in her will to live, to really live not just exist.to learn something new and execute it, to accept, to move on, to adorn oneself. I saw that girl who sat for hours, touching every piece of jewellery in her bulging jewellery bags with a satisfied smile on her face. “you’ll get used to my madness.” She said then. Little did I know we would both get used to each other’s madness and what not. The heartbreaks helped put life in perspective for her and for me. And there are tears here and there, there always will be. And somewhere in-between it will find its way; hot and pulping- perfection.
Not in the non-klutz-y, non-creased clothes, perfect comebacks kind of way.
But in the I have something stuck in my teeth, lets laugh at fake bitches, lets gorge on doughnuts, I have a big smile on my face, my nails are neon, my hair is flying kind of way. Its something we tan man dhan chicks are quite good at!
I love you S! I always will!
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