“I Love You” in The ICU
[I wrote this article way back on 24th August, 2014 when I
was teaching at Chhukha Higher Secondary School, Bhutan. I
did not share it on any platform other than Facebook till I had
it published through the self-publishing scheme of
ZorbaBooks. It is not exactly a story, rather it is a narrative
based on stark reality.
But I am sharing it with the readers as my late Ma, an
exceptional woman of great substance and sacrifice, used to
tell me often, “sattyi ekdin galpo hoye jai” (Truth becomes a
story one day). The message I have tried to convey to one and
all through this piece straight from my heart, is that one must
not forget to be appreciative of one’s parents and that Death is
something not to be feared but accepted gracefully. Show your
love, admiration, respect to your near and dear ones, Dear
Reader, while they are alive for tomorrow you might not have
the chance.]
“I Love You” In The ICU ( A Son’s Tribute to His Ma)
Right at this moment I have a second thought if I should go on
writing about an incident that has left an undeniable imprint on
my mind. I am not even sure if I can do justice in giving
expressions to a memory that is a parting gift. I am equally
sceptical that in trying to write about this incident, I might get
emotional and as a result, be disrespectful to the memory of a
person I have always admired, adored, loved and respected like
no one else.
It is difficult for me to recollect right now when I got into the
habit of massaging my late mother’s feet every night before
retiring to bed. Whenever it might have been, it was always
quality time for me. I used to share about everything under the
sun with my Ma at the time, while she egged me on with her
remarks and wisdom. You may be surprised to know, Reader,
that I shared all my problems and worries with her in the sincere
belief that once they were made known to her, they would
tumble down like nine pins eventually! And they often did! I
never tired of saying those words in front of her, behind her
………. here, there, everywhere. Those words were :
“The best mother in the world, I love you, Ma.”
I did not say that to flatter her, or make her happy. I uttered those
words as they were, each of them, from the depth of my heart. I
truly believe that the parents, especially The Mother, play a vital
role in the upbringing of the child, physically, mentally and
intellectually. Thanks to my maternal grandparents, my Ma was
raised to be a genuinely good human being.
Agreed, mothers the world over are precious gems for their
children. I guess my Ma was no exception. Now, to come back
to that incident in August, 2006, I was just back from school,
when I received an emergency call from my hometown Kolkata.
It was my spouse, Jaya, calling. She sounded worried in
informing me that my aged mother was suddenly taken ill and
was about to be hospitalized. My youngest sister, Tapasi, who
was there beside my spouse, having taken over the cell from my
wife’s hand in the meantime, hastily informed me that
everything was under control and Ma was going to be fine soon.
But beneath her calm, composed voice, I could detect the
worried soul and did not waste any more time in running out of
my quarters to seek our Principal, Mr.Yash Bahadur Ghalley
(God bless his soul), out. I have already written an article about
Principal Sir’s magnanimity for the help he rendered to me at
that time ( published in Business Bhutan,Vol I, Issue 6 dated Oct
31,09).
I had to do a lot of running around before someone directed me
to the Boys’ Hostel. Principal Sir, as was his nature, most
graciously consented to my going down. Some half an hour later,
as I was on my way to Kolkata, I ran into one of my colleagues,
Mr.Bijuman Scaria (the world is a better place if you have
friends like him), out on an evening walk with some friends.
One look at me and he was taking a 500/- note from his purse
out and into my hand, without asking, telling me that it might be
handy on the way, and to give it back after my return from
Kolkata..
I was down to the Zero point in a flash, though getting a lift from
anyone at that time was like hoping for the rain on a bright,
sunny morning! It is no surprise therefore, that I could go no
further than Gedu, a distance of some 50 km from my place,
Tsimalakha that night. I had to spend the night with my good
friend, Mr.Thupten, the BoD Manager, another blessed soul. I
remember having some intimate and personal talks with him that
night over some intoxicating drinks! In the wee hours of the next
morning, Mr.Thupten woke me up as he had already arranged a
vehicle for me. To cut the long story of my journey from
Phuentsholing via Hasimara to Kolkata short , let it suffice to
say that I reached my native place at around 10.30 the next
morning. My wife was ready with some eatables and having
hastily gorged them down, we were breathlessly on our way to
peerless Hospital, Kolkata, said to be one of the most advanced
and expensive hospitals in the city.
I could not meet my Ma straight away and it was nearly evening
when I was finally let in the ICU. Someone must have told the
well-dressed yet cool guard at the door that I was the youngest
son of the patient in a coma, come all the way down from the
neighbouring kingdom of Bhutan! As I slipped off my chappals
near the door and walked up the carpeted way, the dusking
evening outside seemed to recede to a distant darkness, to be
replaced by the brightness of the room inside with a strong
medicinal smell. Hers was the first bed I noticed on the left. She
was lying still and immobile, covered with a white sheet up to
her neck, tucked around her body and under her feet.
I did not look around. My entire attention was focused on the
motionless body. As I willed myself into looking up to her face
with her eyes closed, lots of thoughts were racing through my
mind. The nurse standing near by, handed a lotion tube to me.
She asked me to drywash my hands with the lotion. Any contact
with the outside world and its harmful germs through a visitor, I
was told, might turn out to be fatal for any inmates of the ICU. I
pressed the tube and applied the lotion to my hands. Only then I
dared to remove a corner of the sheet to touch the feet which
brought me sheer joy and happiness every time I held them.
Ma had been in a coma for some days. As I touched her feet with
a trembling hand, I looked up to her face again for any sign of
recognition of the close bonding we had had over all these
turbulent years. The face that has always given me the strength
to fight against all odds; the face that has kept me going through
Life’s turbulent journey; the face that has taught me to love Life and Living.
And then, then something miraculous happened!
Under the glow of the halogen light, I noticed a muscle in my
Ma’s face twitch or may be the eyelashes. It was like a miracle
as I wasn’t exactly hallucinating. She had been totally
immobilized for the last few days. I was worried. Was she
disturbed by my touch? Was it very painful for her? What if she
was in her senses? Wouldn’t she definitely try to convey her
parting words to her youngest son?
I did not find the answers to all my questions at that time, nor
will I ever. But at that precise moment the rest of the world came
to a standstill when I saw the miracle happening once more. My
touch on her feet, brought a tear through her closed eyes out and
sparkle down her cheek! I felt as if a stone, a weighty guilt was
being lifted off my chest. I heard someone, far away, whisper
out:
“The best mother in the world. I love you, Ma. I always will.”
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“I Love You” in The ICU -by Rathin Bhattacharjee
Comments
One response
Mind–blowing, really heart–touching