There are assignments pending and exams impending, there is a brutal coercion to excel and insurmountable pressure to perform -- amid the academic chaos, me writing this blog piece can easily be misconstrued as someone having got his priorities wrong. If that’s the case, so be it. As I attempt to pen down these thoughts, I feel slightly disoriented. Rummaging through the layers of mixed emotions, let me begin with a story – A story of brilliance, fortitude and, if I may call it, a paradoxical tragedy. I met her eight years ago at school and she was brilliant, she still is. She was among the sharper brains in the class - brutal in her goal-setting; ambitious in delivering them and humble enough to keep her feet grounded amid astronomical achievements. She wanted to study medicine, she did; she wanted to be honed by the best college in the country; she did; she wanted to become a doctor, she became one; and a brilliant one at that. Each day she met hopeful people entrusting her with the task of alleviating their pain, curing them and restoring brightness in their dimming lives – she delivered on their expectations. But, she lost the battle with one patient, her last one. You couldn’t blame her for that. This patient was diagnosed with cancer and, as a doctor, she could have treated this as a one-off case that exposed medical science’s limitations. But, she didn’t, she couldn’t move on. Reason: This patient in question happens to be her mother – someone who co-partnered her dream; co-authored her success story and inspired her to take up this profession known to save lives.
In a conversation with a friend, she mentioned, “What’s the point of claiming to save lives when the one who means the most to you dies before your eyes?”; to the world she declared, “Christmas means nothing without you.”
Today, I revisited my friend’s story through an old couple at the doctor’s clinic where I had gone to get my throat fixed. This couple, easily in their 70s, was fighting a similar crisis – the wife had been diagnosed with neck cancer. As she went through her exercises in the doctor’s cabin, I saw through the transparent door how her husband, enfeebled by age, stood behind her in support.
It’s moments like these that bring me closer to life and the ultimate reality that lies beyond it.
For my friend, that one moment of separation will linger on for life; for this couple, destined to be separated, moments such as these will bring them closer as they prepare for the imminent farewell.
Life is fleeting; are we keeping pace? Are we appreciating and valuing people enough? If not, we are making a colossal waste of the little time that remains.
On a philosophical dope, I asked myself if I am prepared to face such moments and let go of people; but I shirked at the very thought. I am not as strong as those whose tales I have just narrated. If not anything else, I have leant to value people more.
And there is one thing I, for sure, will do henceforth: “Never wait for the opportune time to say that next word. For all you know, your ‘next’ may just be their last.”
