Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Journey to the End of the Night

As I lie in bed wide awake much past midnight, staring at the ceiling, I get used to the darkness. Actually the night sky has its own luminous glow, a brightness that makes the nights surreal. I see everything in the bedroom clearly with some of this night light streaming in through the sheer curtains. I looked at the peacefully sleeping form of the man beside. We are together but right now he is in a different world.

Do I really need to sleep? I know I just have to let the comfort and the coolness of the night take over and close my eyes for sleep to come. But that would mean another night gone by and a morning that waits to awaken me. I try to hold on to my consciousness. To this moment which is mine. I cannot slip into nothingness. It is rest I need, of mind and body. It's what I am giving myself till morning dawns.

For those who try to keep awake, Redbull at dinner helps.

Friday, March 27, 2009

yesterday once more

Something today reminds me of a time long back when the sun shone down on a house surrounded by a lawn outside, plants and flowers all over and a vegetable garden at the back. The vegetable garden had tall crops of ladyfingers, which had their ends proudly pointing to the blue sky. There was golden corn too beside.

On the other neat patch were vegetables strictly at ground level - rows of cabbages, cauliflowers, baby tomatoes, black chillies, carrots, lettuce, coriander... everything so beautifully growing and flourishing. Lemon trees, a mango tree, jackfruit, peaches and plums fanned the edge of the garden.

The memory carries the fresh smells that invigorate the senses. Every vegetable, every fruit, every flower and every leaf had its distinct fragrance. The sunshine, the natural smell of the plants and the earth, it's a mindblowing combination. The day that is so serene, the daily routine of life that is a pleasure, the happiness that is in the air breathed in.

Today when all the sunshine is wasted, sitting in a closed room artificially lit, artificially cooled, I am really really glad for the memories.

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

what is life?

"How are you related to the patient?" The doctor asked me. After I answered, he says, "Okay I must tell you, that the survival rate for this type of tumour is very low. I haven't told him yet. But you must know, understand and decide. I suggest you read up and think out everything before you take a decision. It is going to cost you a bit too."

This is the first time I have been given such grave news. When you know that it could be just a matter of time... you feel helpless and small... yet you know you still have to go ahead and get the best treatment possible.

Hope and confidence are strange things. They give us this immeasurable strength which is actually capable of miracles.