One more comment...

one of the few pictures of us together

On a hospital bed, thousands of miles away, a man is fighting for his life. The doctors have given up on him. Isn't this the pet phrase they spur when they have messed you up to the point of no return. He has cancer, an illness that I seem to symbiotically linked to and that over the years I have learnt to stoop fearing and now learning to conquer. Sadly in his case I was unable to win him to my side. I guess it was because I was still a neophyte in alternative options. It was before cancer hit Ranjan. I remember having taken him to my Tibetan Doctor and got him medicine. He so trusted allopathy that he 'checked' with his oncologist who of course told him to not have the medication. That was more than five years ago. By the time I became an 'expert', the allopathic treatment of cutting, burning and poisoning (surgery-radiotherapy-chemotherapy) had done its ravage and the cancer had spread to every part of his body. The pain is excruciating and he has been robbed of his dignity as normally happens with such treatment. It was the same with papa.

The person I am talking about is my uncle-in-law. He is the first member of the 'in-law' gang I met, months before my marriage. I remember how nervous I felt and probably must have babbled my way through lunch and looked silly to say the least; meeting an in-law for the first time is traumatising. I liked him instantly but life was to play a devious game before we really came to know and love each other. For reasons still unknown to me, his part of the family was kept at bay so our interactions were few and far apart. But everything was to changed when a horrifying incident happened in my life and I was declared guilty and culpable without being given the benefit of the doubt. It suited everyone as I was the weakest link.

These are the times when your character and your sum and substance are put to test; this is when you are faced with a true Cornelian dilemma and have to make the right decision, and the 'right' decision is often not the easiest one. I remember him being the only one who gave me a patient and honest hearing and believed me even if it meant alienating people that were close to him in terms of relationships. But he stood strong and gave me the love and support I would have got from my parents had they been alive. He did not hesitate crossing the line and standing by me and still stands by me today. Rare are those who have that courage. He is one of them.

When I think of him I remember the words of Oriana Fallaci in her lovely book entitled Letter to a child never born: I hope you will be the kind of man I have always dreamt of, kind to the weak, fierce to the arrogant, generous to those who love you, ruthless to those who order you around. He is that kind of man.

When Ranjan's cancer hit, he was there by my side and gave me the courage and strength I so needed. And even if he did not quite accept alternative therapies for himself, he encouraged me in my venture of treating Ranjan with brews that would make anyone shudder. Though we lived in different cities, he never missed a blog and never forgot to leave a heartwarming comment to my ramblings.

For the past two weeks or so my blogs look orphaned and I feel the same. Somehow, he has taken a very special place in my heart, one that had lain empty since my parents moved on.

Today I feel helpless and lost. That is when you turn to the God you believe in. But today I will go a step further and petition all the Gods of the Heavens to conjure that one miracle that will bring him home and give him quietude and peace with those he loves most. I implore them to let him be surrounded by the music he so loves and be with his books and writings where he truly belongs. He more than anyone else deserves his dignity restored.

Please grant me at least one more comment on my orphaned blog.