It is essential to dream… without them we will be flightless birds… Caught in our own invisible prison….dying every day, rather than living…. 

The pain has become her totem… Her sense and nonsense began there, grew there and ended there…
Being her mother was not easy…being a person who sees the suffering of  another person  who is actually very near to our  person is like poison… It drips into your system slowly…it makes you sneer at things that should never be sneered at..it makes you bitter and bitter and after ….it unmakes you….
Life has become a horrible nightmare repeating endlessly…. The oils and the kashayams that we gave her kept her alive barely…

Every day she woke up into pain and every day she  slept into pain….it was the only indicator of her life.. The only indicator that a person is actually living inside that frail tapestry of a body…

 I was not sad… No no at all..there was no point in being sad..there was no point in proclaiming my girl was ill and she is in extreme pain,there was no point in saying that when she eats sometimes she defecates there itself…. There is no point….

Cancer is something that affects an individual but when that individual is a person.. A child.. A mother… A homemaker… A father… A friend… It turns into something else….
Her eyes were the most disturbing… She had big round eyes… My child had big round beautiful eyes…I used to kiss her eyelids ..now those eyelids were stripped bare….her gaze has become a stare…. Whenever she cried no tears came…nothing… Everything was dried up…everything….
The nights were the most disturbing… Her cry has almost turned into a wail and sometimes I am afraid of her .Sometimes I just want to be a mother who can just sleep and get up with my arthritis and complain loudly… Sometimes I just want to run and never come back… Sometimes I just wish her to die….
And then she smiles and that’s the only thing that matters… Sometimes she sings for me and I smile too .

You can’t beat me .you don’t have even an inkling of the love that I have kept in the deepest recesses of my heart…. You have no idea What I would do to see my child breath… You have no idea…..I am her mother and I will endure…

Dedicated to Saraswathi, my patient’s mother.When there are women like you in this world, there is always hope.Hats off.



Arjun here.From Kottakkal, Kerala,India. I am interested in anything that is interesting and writing comes among the top of that list. I read,I write,I live.

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