meenu mehrotra

 i can now sense her spirit growing feeble- my mother’s.

 talking to her is like conversing with a vanquished soldier whose physical body is giving in inspite of a valiant attempt to carry on the battle. as the disease grows so does the pessimism. its a sharp contrast to what she had been all these 6 years when the ailment was first detected. i can clearly see and sense -a fall in the optimism, a dying spirit which was so militant earlier and the lack of physical energy…but what is one to do ? how is one to fight the demon in the light of  diminishing will power , a shrinking spirit and a weak body? how does one fight the hopelessness of a heart; the acknowledgement that its the beginning of the end? that she’ll not be around for a very long time?

one can only fight a disease until its meek but what is one to do if it grows monstrous and threatens to eat up your body like a scavenger? what is one to do? be optimistic? resign to one’s fate? prepare for the inevitable? or just be stoical about the whole damn thing?

no, its difficult to be all of these or any one of these.

its tough for a child to know that her mother is on her way…its difficult to accept the going away of one’s parent even if you know that death is the only truth of life… its impossible to embrace the harsh facts of life as plain, simple reality…

its not easy to stare at death everyday and hope it never knocks…

the fear of loss grips you tightly - it’s like  hanging on the edge of a cliff with a deep ravine below and one loss of grip …can alter its course forever.

although the physical body can disintegrate but the umbilical chord between a mother and child can never be shorn…never. she will remain alive in spirit and soul…forever.

till next time

take care 

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