Coup de grâce

I sat on the porch, sipping my coffee and watching my two grandchildren play in the front yard. A perfect summer afternoon. The setting sun was so very synonymous to my own life too. I smiled to myself.

Ravi and Ria were my son's children, and my only excuse to my prolonged existence. Life seemed to bestow upon me, years after years. Though they were 12 and 9 years of age respectively, they fought as if they were pre-schoolers.

"Grandpa...grandpa...Ravi killed the limping grasshopper. Can you believe it grandpa? How cruel can one be.I had only this morning decided to call the grasshopper Rosie, and had planned on how I could be her doctor and make her all well again. Ravi is terrible grandpa..." This was followed by loud sobs and a bigger tantrum.

I put my coffee cup to the side, cleaned my glasses, and put them back on. I got up, and went in to join everyone for dinner. Somehow, tonight I did not have the heart to finish what was on my plate. Without a second helping, and a cursory 'excuse me', I washed my hands and came back out onto the porch and sat on the swing. This had now become my favorite spot in the house.

The moon had risen high, and there was a gentle breeze. It was a typical summer night. I was lost in my thoughts - the past and the present seemed to be getting mixed up, and there was a blurr..

Soft gentle steps woke me from my cat nap, and I saw that Ria had come and sat down next to me with her feet propped in my lap. This was her way of feeling secure. The incident from the evening had visibly disturbed her. I cleared my throat, and said "Ria, aren't you sleepy sweetheart?" She shook her head.

"Grandpa, won't God punish Ravi for killing the grasshopper? Isn't it wrong grandpa? It was such a helpless creature, couldn't even walk. why did he have to do it?"

It seemed to touch me deep down somewhere. I could not stop myself anymore and I said "Ria, maybe he actually helped the little creature by doing so. It would have suffered with that broken leg, and would have died anyway without food and water. Have you thought of that?". She almost jumped in anger "grandpa, there you are - you are taking sides. You think Ravi is always right".

"No Ria, I'am not sweetheart. I'm sharing a lesson from my life with you baby". The pain and the tremble in my voice was palpable. She just sat there looking at me, and waiting for me to continue...

I was a neuro-surgeon with a great practice in the big city. Life was good, with a home, a wife, and two beautiful children. God seemed to have nothing else to do except wait for me to wish something, and he grant it immediately :-) Well, that's what it felt like when everything I did translated to riches - they said I had the Midas touch!

When I reached the hospital on that winter morning in January, I was shocked to see Saroja and Dilip. Saroja was on the stretcher and Dilip was on her side. Grim and impersonal as usual. It took me all the strength I had to not scream and cry out louad. My Saroja. I was shivering. Lying there unconscious - seeing her after all these years, and in this state?

I learnt that Dilip and Saroja were involved in an accident that morning on the way to their village and were brought to my hospital. The next few days passed quickly with quiet a few surgeries for Saroja, and one for Dilip. The discouraging part was that Saroja was not responding to anything - neither surgery or medicine. I was doing everything all my degrees had ever taught me, I spoke with all the good doctors I knew, and struggled with every bit of information I could collect which would in some way help her. I wasn't getting lucky. My tears and prayers were in vain too - God seemed to be busy now...

For that matter, I was never lucky - never where Saroja was involved. She was my classmate in school, and my neighbour too. Predictably, we had been in love for a few years even when I was completing my medicine, and she her degree course in literature. Her father who was a doctor too, helped me in all my studies and was greatly responsible for me to pass my exams with flying colors. But, upon bringing up the subject of marriage, our families made it very clear that nothing of that sort would be done - not even in their imagination.

In a few months, Saroja got married to Dilip and moved away to his village. Life seemed empty, useless and not worth living. But, I had to live on - and soon settled down with my responsibilities. But, not a single day passed without thinking of her. My wife knew about her, and forbade all contact with her. I tried telling her that I should keep at least a cordial relationship with them for the sake of gratitude and decency. But, it fell on deaf ears. The more she disliked Saroja, the more I dis-liked her - she did not realize this fact till she lived. Days kept rolling - I heard from one of the neighbours that Saroja was not well cared for by Dilip. I also heard that she was treated very badly by her in-laws too. After a few years learnt that she had two children of her own...and now this.

I sat by her bedside and kept looking at her beautiful face. Soft and gentle. Her lips had a smile hidden behind them even in this unconscious state. As I sat there, I felt that I was responsible for not taking a firmer stand in getting married to her - felt responsible for not being firmer with my wife, and had been in touch with her. Time had flown, and life had silently passed by - and who were the losers? Nobody but Saroja and me. I wish I had realized all this before today - before she was in this state where nothing mattered...I wish I had shared more laughter with her...

The panel of senior doctors gave their final verdict this morning - nothing could save her. It was all over. She could continue to live on a life system, but her brain was not alive anymore - just her body was. She did not have control on anything, and no feelings...nothing mattered anymore...

A week passed, and I clearly saw that Dilip was growing impatient with the circumstances. He seemed to question me every time our eyes met. He wanted to know what would happen now. What would he have to do with his wife now?

My heart seemed to burst with the pain and anxiety I felt just seeing her in that state - forget about thinking into the future. But, as a doctor I knew that I had to give her back to her family - to Dilip.

I could not sleep for the next couple of days. I had to decide. Make a decision for her - for me. For once, I had to stand up for her - at least now.

The Sun shone brighly as it rained. It was about 3PM in the afternoon. The sunshine and the rain-it was a weird sight. Nature seemed as confused as me. I quietly walked into the room where Saroja lay. I gently touched her cheek. I then touched her feet - just like the way I used to play with her toes when we were together, and she used to giggle. I pushed her hair away from her face and kissed her forehead. I whispered into her ear that I loved her and will always love her - and that I would be with her for all lives to come and if there was such a thing as re-birth. I then took a deep breath, and held her hand in mine. With my other hand, and with a determined move, switched off the life system she was on. Everything beeped for a second, and I thought she would just wake up and giggle - but nothing happened. Everything went silent - all I could hear was the ceiling fan. That's all it took. That was the end. In a few seconds, her hands went limp in mine.

My Saroja - I had let her rest in peace.

The years that followed were a nightmare. Guilt ruled my life. Then there was this side of me, which argued that if I had let her go back to Dilip and his family, her state would have been even worse. Maybe / maybe not. I don't know. Maybe her children would have cared for her? I don't know. Why didn't I think of keeping her with me? How could I? I don't know maybe I should have stood up for once and taken a stand. Well, I had taken a stand for her. Then I would think - taken a stand by doing what I did?

I do not know what is right or wrong anymore - but all I know is that I did what I did as someone who loved her, and maybe what a doctor would have done/ should have done.

I did not realize that tears were streaming down my cheeks and Ria had put my head on her little lap. She seemed to understand what I was going through. She rubbed my back and sat there silently. After what seemed hours, she simply said "Don't worry grandpa, you were not wrong".

My little Ria - she had suddenly become my mother, my daughter and my best friend. I had to journey through life with all the pain curdled up inside me to this day and now - open up my heart to my little Ria.

But she understood - as no one would probably ever have. The swing kept rocking gently, and the moon was hidden behind the clouds. The breeze was cooler now...

I don't know for how long I slept that night on my little Ria's lap...but today, I have the courage to look at my own eyes, and I have the courage to smile...I have the courage to live. I have the will to live - I have to live - for my little Ria!

The First Rain

Rain, rain, go away,
Come again another day.
Rain, rain, go away.
Come again some other day.
Little Me wants to play,
In the meadow by the hay.
Rain, rain, go to Spain...

Pitter..Patter..Pitter..Patter..the children's voices ring..and fade away...

The mud puddles everywhere, the school children walking back from the school, squeaking with delight every time one of them takes a jump in the water or a car passes by splashing water over them...

The first raindrops falling onto the parched land, the cool breeze and the smell of the earth! were just enough to bring out the element in me. No wonder I was a girl with the water sign. The sea, the waves, the rain everything transformed me into someone else in those few moments of laying my eyes on them.

I so vividly remember that we were in college, and the rains meant something else to me and my husband - well, not my husband at that time of course! We would sit for hours in the canteen, sipping the most horrendous tea, as if it was unadulterated nectar served and chat as if there would never be another day come by to talk our hearts out.Nostalgia - there is no cure for it!

Getting married, and moving on with our careers, we still continued to make the rainy days very special. Piping cups of coffee, sitting by the window and chatting up on the philosophies of life which by now had changed a little for both of us, somehow made rainy days very welcome.

Somewhere along the line, seasons came and seasons went, and we got busy settling our nest. Little fledgelings came to the focus and stayed there, we forgot what rains or any other seasons meant anymore.

After a decade of being married, we saw the first rain again one Sunday this season and for old times sake thought about taking a ride in the car. Just being alone in the car together felt awkward enough to even start a conversation. Every topic felt it was not worth being discussed after what we had to go through to get this time together again. He cleared his throat a million times making me wonder if he was coming down with a throat infection, which pressed the panic alarm in my mind - his infection would get passed on to the little one, and that meant at least 4 to 5 days of absence from work. So, I initiated the conversation and asked, "Are you okay?". He said "Yeah, just some allergies I guess". I accepted that.

These days, I have gotten used to accepting everything everyone tells me at face value. Either everyone around me has suddenly grown smarter, or I have comprised with life. Don't really know what happened, but the silliest explanation a friend gives about why I never got a call from that person for the longest time was gracefully accepted by me after months of fighting. Little does that person realize that it's not the replies that have gotten convincing, but it the fact that I have begun to realize that you cannot force anyone to do anything for you - and that this feeling may cease one day. The risk seems to be lost to oblivion.

Back in the car- my husband spoke about his work, his co-workers, his marathon and also what he thinks we should be doing next summer. He told me that we never got to talk much these days because he was so busy, how his life was full of tensions, and how people in his life were taking up too much time.

I just smiled and looked out of the window - who's life these days was simple? Mine, yours or anyone you or I know of? Nobody. All of us are a part of the rut - running away from self-created monsters and chasing our self-imagined dreams.But, still somewhere along we had bothered to tell another person that we had cared for each other, and what had suddenly changed? Was it even fair to change priorities without being informed? Even in a Kindergarten classroom, the five year old is warned that she/he will not be the star of the week in the coming months. That puts expectations right - don't you think. What gave the other person the right to change plans for the other just because...

All that I had wanted for him to say was "I miss you when it rains. I miss the time we shared together. Can we share a cup of coffee today?"

I know it will come...till then me and my coffee cup with share a thousand secrets...