DOES SADNESS REALLY FLY AWAY

 

DOES SADNESS REALLY FLY AWAY

Sadness flies away on the wings of time- Jean De la Fontaine

I came across this sentence a few days back. It really intrigued me. It was sending hope yet I knew of situations that saddened the heart irrespective of time. It was full of positivity, yet I had experienced the negativity of sad situations again and again, irrespective of time. I wondered if sadness really flew away on the wings of time.

I had always felt that time just blunts the cutting edge of sadness and replaces intense pain with bearable pain. It never flies away, always leaving your heart with that deep heaviness where sadness sits on heavy bottoms, moving just ever so slightly to allow a trickle of happiness to jostle for space in an already overcrowded heart.

 There are sad moments that disturb us and there are sad events that destroy us. The sad moments remain floating and their lightness gives them the effortless ability to fly away from our hearts with time. It is the sad events in our life that settle down in the deep recesses of our heart, never to leave. It’s crucial to understand the difference to lead a life of acceptance of the burden of sadness.

Losing a dear one or a young member of the family suddenly is always devastating. In a split second it uproots the entire family tearing the fabric to shreds. It’s not just the suddenness of loss, it’s also about the inability to comprehend the future. Life stops acutely and the wheels running smoothly brake with a deafening sound that tears the ear drums causing a deathly silence of that dark event. The vision is clouded and the mind gets numbed beyond words. You walk in a daze unable to make sense of anything that formed your routine. Is it easy for this extremely devastating sadness to ever fly away?

Experts working on grief and bereavement have analyzed the grief and bereavement period classifying it into four stages. The last stage is about acceptance. Eventually after going through the phases of disbelief, anger and guilt of having lost the loved one, the person begins to accept the situation. Time is the greatest healer they say. With time, the intensity of sadness starts to blunt on its edges and the jagged margins of memories hurt less than before. Time and acceptance help to look at the memories of the lost one with a new vision. Eyes blur less and heart cries a little less. Physical expression of hurt lessens and an occasional smile replaces the memory.

All this happens over decades and that one life we have gets scarred with deep sadness. Many of those who are left behind lose a lifetime in coming to terms with the reality that just swept them away from a normal life. Sadness takes a real long time to get washed away and, in this situation, it also leaves behind imprints that are hard to clean.

Extreme sadness can come knocking in many other forms and shapes. Sadness that destroys the fabric of our lives and can overnight ruin the happy pace that we have gotten used to. Broken relationships, divorce, accidents, court and police cases, online -offline frauds, losing reputation and standing in the society can all bring that unspeakable sadness that adds to the weight of the burdened heart.

Illnesses of loved ones, humiliation at work place, inability to bear pressures of life or work, stress from relationships, broken hearts and broken bones, breach of trust, cheating, financial losses, failure in businesses, strained family ties, natural calamities that wash away home and hearth, all account for those moments when things can get unbearable and cause a deep pain in the heart.

 Many of these tragedies take away all that we have or have collected over years of hard work for a secure future. Often, thoughts of ending the problem by ending the life cross the mind, some weaker minds even going ahead with it. Often, despair and depression cloud the rational thinking. Darkness envelopes the mind and the tunnel seem to have no proverbial light at its end.

However, one must never forget that in face of greater tragedies, these are the floating sad events that only time will erase and hopefully, will one day fly away on its wings. Most of the problems we encounter, most of the difficult situations we face seem to hold us in their tight angry squeeze, will loosen with time. Eventually, the sharpness of the difficulty will blunt away and the pain will fade away leaving little evidence of the hurt it has caused.

There is no such a problem that does not come with a solution, albeit it can make one compromise the routine or change tracks. The human body and mind are well equipped with so much strength as to handle any of these distractions and fill the heart with happiness again. There is no such a bad situation that eventually does not fade away into the horizon. With a mad rush to survive in this fast-paced world, most of us lose the ability to tackle pressure head on. Many a times we forget to see our inner strength and beauty. Even small ups and downs can appear colossal and stop us in our tracks. They can break us because we have forgotten to harness our inner strength.

The energy of youth and the skills of the adulthood are lost in the maze of fear of failure and hurt. The helplessness and hopelessness of the situations arise because we have lost the confidence in ourselves.

What seems impossible is just another problem with multiple possibilities of opportunities. A change of business or a job, re-establishing communication with the person that has hurt you or simply moving on, slowly rebuilding life after calamities or financial losses are all a sure possibility with time, faith, family, friends and determination.

It's often forgotten that none of these problems can take away our ability to work our way to the top again. The bottomless pit where one finds oneself in such a situation is not bottomless at all. The tunnel is dark but we must believe that there is light somewhere. Slowly and steadily, we can crawl up from the bottom into light again. Our precious life and our inner resolve must be kept alive to pull us up.

The despairing situations always remind me of a fable. The story of the king who was so despaired in face of defeat that he felt his life was useless. It was an old uneducated simpleton who gave a ring to the king embossed with the words “this too shall pass” to be seen in utterly hopeless situations. 

Just as Jean De la Fontaine has said, sadness will fly away.

Very rightly, it is profound, it is full of hope and guides us through those difficult times which at that point seem permanent and endless.

We forget that this too shall pass.

We forget that we have the ability to allow it to fly away.

On wings of time.

Dr. REINA KHADILKAR

BEING THERE- LIFE @ 60

 BEING THERE- LIFE @ 60

A decade ago, when I turned 50, I wrote about the feelings one goes through at that fascinating golden milestone in my blog, “Turning 50”. It was energetic, hopeful, exciting and was the crossing when one entered the phase of being old, yet not really old. It’s the new 40s they said as I reveled in the golden glow of turning 50, not really feeling 50!

The decade passed by, life in all its glory. Kids with their achievements, accolades, awards, successes, failures, friends, social platforms and careers. It was as though a movie reel in fast forward that they went from asking pocket money to spending their own, from asking permission to go out to informing hurriedly after they have left, from nursing their heart breaks to holding that special hand with which they would now walk forward and forever. And leaving mine.

It was an amazing decade as I saw my daughter turn first into a loving wife and then to a glowing mother, all engrossed and entrenched in the life that she had brough forth. It was fascinating to see my little baby become me to her baby. The glow of motherhood and the sense of completeness shone on her beautiful face as she struggled and worked her way to the changed demands of her new role. I stood there watching, reminiscing and smiling.

Becoming a grand-mother brought in as much grandeur in my life as it toppled all my concepts of a clean and spotless home. My obsessive-compulsive disorder of keeping my home in strict order was tossed out of the window as cries of hunger, nursery rhymes, white noises for sleep, soiled nappies and tiny clothes filled and spilled all over the house. It was a tiring, exhausting, sapping yet exhilarating, exciting and simply a joyous time for the house.

It was an amazing decade as I saw my son emerge from a gauche, awkward, shy, plumpish teenager to strong, fit, bold and worldly-wise doctor who learnt to handle human diseases with a rare sharp clinical acumen that he has inherited from his illustrious maternal grand-father, a prolific doctor of his times, chiseled and acquired with burning the midnight oil, as he learnt the ropes to handle the emergency casualty at all odd hours, operate on macabre wounds, heal hearts and bodies, learn from seniors and train the juniors on his way to becoming an orthopedic surgeon. Stories of his skills, integrity, honesty and loyalty came to me from friends, colleagues, his co-workers and teachers. His determination to excel, his passion for the field of medicine, his ability to be a man of integrity and the strength of his honesty was what we had dreamt for him as parents. I stood there, watching, proud, happy and smiling.

The decade was pushing ahead, yet life had caught me in the whirlwind of my own adjustments to the rapidly changing digital world, the dynamics of my profession that saw me struggling to keep abreast with not just technology, but changes in the whole system of teaching and being teachers to the generation zee. The protocols and new methods that changed the way we imparted our knowledge of the human body to the new generation seemed to run much faster than I could. I was caught in a time warp of the system that I had been accustomed to. As a teacher, I had to wriggle out of that web of values, principles and attitudes that had created my persona. Expecting the same from the young, bold and restless, yet highly comfortable with “all that was new” generation, was a task that I had to learn to unlearn. The growing years taught me the patience and the philosophy of accepting the change and being it. It was a struggle but a worthy one.

 I could feel the pressure of age that never was there before. The difficulty in molding oneself to the ways of the technology reminded me of the rapidity of ageing. The excitement of buying the latest mobile phone or being a part of the family that loved all things Apple was gradually replaced by an inner fear of unlearning what I had learnt and then learning again all over what needed to be learnt. My heart screamed for familiarity of what I had got used to, yet the young ones around me insisted that I ‘upgrade’. I stood there, fearing yet accepting the ability to learn, unlearn, learn, repeat!

The decade turned from one digit to the next, upgrading my whole being to what the rest of the world refers to as, ‘senior citizen’. This time however, I could feel the pride of being the elder one, of being the support system for all the struggles and hardships my loved ones would go through, of stretching that helping hand of experience that comes with living through six decades of life. This time I could feel the peace of being in control of my choices, my work, my relationships. I could feel the decompression of pressures of running the rat race, fighting to win and hating to lose. I could feel the ease of letting go of hurt, pain and disappointment that people around you inflict, knowingly or unknowingly. I could feel the ability to understand myself in all this whirlwind of emotions and protect myself from the inner storms.

As I stand today at 60, reflecting on the years gone by, the twists and turns that made my life so exciting and full, the people who loved me, hated me, ignored me or even pushed me down, the family and friends who gave meaning to my life, I can feel the fullness of this one life that my parents gave me. I can feel the gratefulness of that Supreme Power that guided me through thick and thin, and be the guiding light on this difficult path.

I can feel the gratefulness of every moment. I can feel the invaluable value of every breath I take, every sunrise I see and every day I spend honestly doing the work I am passionate about, running my home with love and care and getting warmth and love from my people.

As I stand at the beginning of this decade, I can feel the strength of giving, forgiving and moving on. When I look ahead to the coming years, I know I may take a tad longer to catch up with the changing world, but in my own way, I know I will and that it will be the most memorable decade I have ever lived.

In all humility, peace, bliss and happiness.

Dr. Reina Khadilkar

HAVE WE LEARNT ANYTHING AT ALL?

 

HAVE WE LEARNT ANYTHING AT ALL?

We are all still living in the uncertainty of the pandemic. The waves are lashing on to the shores, one after the other, bringing with them untold horror, disease, death and endless tragedies. Every family has at least one sad tale to tell, one big scare and a punch in the face that have thrown the economic wheels of the family into disarray, puncturing the routine with holes that will take years to close.

The last fifteen months have kept all of us away from our normal lives and routine. The new normal concept, unacceptable at the beginning, has now got firmly rooted in our day, night and heart. Social gatherings, get-togethers, parties, engagements and weddings, road-side meets, coffee dates and general loitering have become a thing of the past. As the pandemic settled down in our vicinity, life began taking weird turns and twists. The inability of medical science, virologists and the statisticians working on algorithms to understand what was happening gave the pandemic a good head start and the world reeled under it.

All that we knew was each person, big or small, male or female, adult or child, was a pariah. Anybody and everybody could bring you the killer disease or be killed himself. Anybody, even you, could change your body forever or end the only life you have. The power of the virus was to each one, to destroy or get destroyed which isolated each one into his or her own bubble. We lost trust over our own hands as much as we feared the hands of our loved ones. Hand-shakes, hugs and physical expressions became expressions of fear and we reeled in horror if someone even attempted to. 

Social distancing came home to roost and our homes became isolated dens as each one took shelter in his own world, staying physically away from the other. The interactions shifted to mobile phones, zoom apps and other social media. As the disease raged on, as our mind and thoughts got trapped in the fear of death and disease, our enthusiasm waned, gloominess took over and we collectively retreated in our shells, far away from the people we loved, depended on, laughed and cried with, didn’t care about or even hated.

I remember a radio channel had started a campaign imploring us to make that phone call to the one whom we had broken up with or hurt or had negativity about. It was to make one realize the importance of forgiving and moving on in these uncertain times. I wonder how many of us had the courage to pick that phone and make that call!

.As days passed, the pandemic took a brutal turn. It was like being alive for that moment and that moment alone! The truth and inevitability of our mortality was never starker than this. Nobody could predict the future as the present became dangerously volatile. 

Faced with this ultimate truth, I wonder then, did we pause and reflect on all the happy and sad moments and the people who made it. Did we look at the broken relationships and the broken hearts lying on the way where we were now. Did we remember forgotten bonds, lost friendships and tattered strings of attachments as we struggled to find sanity in the insane pandemic.

Did we not think of repairing what lay broken in these highly unpredictable time. Did we not want to empty our hearts of all the negativity we had collected over the years. Pushed to a corner, did we not think of this opportunity life had presented to us to rise above pettiness that characterizes human nature.

Here was the opportunity to undo what had inadvertently happened or even deliberately, here was the time to heal, here was the time to forgive, forget or ask for forgivance, the time to unburden our heart. Here was the time to rise above our clay feet, to evolve and make peace with ourselves and those who had threatened or actually derailed our peace. The unpredictability of tomorrow would make our today that much stronger and allow us find the medicine to relieve us of that nagging pain, that scratch on the heart or that hatred that had hurt us more than the person to whom it was directed.

In spite of the precarious situation we were in, as infallible humans, I think we did not overcome this huge challenge to our heart. We did not summon the guts needed to forgive someone who had hurt us and we did not move on. Our hearts continued to be filled with the weight all the negativity we had been carrying for so many years.

Even as we faced the unseen dangerous enemy, the courage to grow out of pettiness never came to us. The strength to rise above ourselves and expand our heart to be large enough to tame our ego was never summoned. The fear was there but the threat of dying by the disease seemed empty to all. It was for someone else, in some other place, and we would be spared.

I wonder then, what has the pandemic really taught us. It has brought home the truths about austerity, materialism- a failed concept, work from anywhere but your office, health is wealth, money matters don’t matter that much, vacations and luxuries can wait, life in a bubble and my small circle of loved ones! But it didn’t really teach us to grow above ourselves spiritually and philosophically into that realm where we can find peace and true happiness by lightening our hearts and conquering our egos.

We continue to remain humans and not evolved humans, even in the face of annihilation by disease.

Pandemic has much to teach, but have we learnt anything at all?

Find out your own answers, change if not yet changed, make that call, heal that scratch on the heart and hold on to that elusive peace of mind.

Dr. Reina Khadilkar

 

WRITER’S BLOCK

It’s been ages, literally ages that my pen flowed with words that clumped together to make sense, sentences and sensibility. Words that came to me in happy times, sad times and most of all, difficult times. Words that helped me to laugh in happiness and words that made me cry copious tears of nostalgia, sadness, pain and longing. Words that lifted that unbearable weight of expectations, lost opportunities, broken hearts, regrets and guilts. Words that were more often than not, cathartic, healing and peaceful. I had found sanctuary from the weight I carried in my heart in the essays I wrote, stories I published and articles I typed and stored. My own happy space. My inner world. My strength and my weakness, my conviction and my honesty, my mirror to my thoughts.

Last one and a half years have been incredibly difficult, scary and life-changing, not just for me but for the whole world. The situation has worsened with no end in sight and time is stuck in the sinking sand of fever and cough, Cytokine storm, Remdesivir shortage, Oxygen leakages, hospital beds, ICU, quarantine, non-availability of vaccines, deaths and innumerable burning pyres clouding the sight and scarring the heart. Each day that comes brings with it new fears, new rules of survival and new hope as the day passes by and you are relieved to be alive at the end of it. All one can think of as one retires into the dark night is, will I be alright tomorrow, or will I get up with fever and body-ache, or with a loss of sense of smell or worst, with breathlessness and air hunger! The mind and the thoughts are completely ensnared into the dark pit of the pandemic and all one can do is hold on to that rapidly desiccating thread of faith and hope that, you will be spared.

The emergence of various strains, the deathly clutch of the black, and now white and even yellow fungus, the rising death toll, the gory, inhumane sight of plastic cloth covered bodies floating in the most sacred of our rivers, the Ganga and all this beamed into our homes by the shrill of the media  who raise their decibels with each bad news as though the intensity in their high-pitched performance will shake the foundations of humanity and scare the country into cowering back into their tiny cubbyholes, afraid to see even the daylight. Believe me, they are right in what they think they are doing and how they are doing. With every high-pitched performance, there is a collective gasp of fear as we reel back with untold horror and fear of death and disease. The voices coming from behind the mikes make sure that our hearts continue to beat rapidly, our belief in the system to care for us shatter into smithereens and our hopes traumatized beyond repair.

Each day brings in new rules for us to follow making us unsure of where we are headed. The powers that are keep making new resolutions and those out of power keep opposing them, unmindful of how it is affecting the very people who have given them the high seat. The bickering, back stabbing and mud-slinging over health care issues, the drugs and Oxygen shortages, keeps getting bigger and fiercer even as hundreds of breathless patients let go of the only life they have, thousands of dear ones run from pillar to post, carrying cylinders and dying loved ones in their arms, looking for hospital beds and crematorium slots, leaving little time to grieve over their irreparable loss. The people who promised them a good governance, an honest and transparent system of work and ‘good days’ ahead, have meanwhile disappeared into their castles, behind the safety of masks and official positions, trying to make the most of the situation as only they can and know how to! Raking up non-issues to downsize each other, issues that can wait for the pandemic to pass, issues that should not take precedence over saving our people and politics of revenge have become the diversion technique for saving one’s hide and face in face of rising anger from hapless sufferers, who needless to say, have found their outlet for their frustrations. The life-savior, also called the ‘doctor’. Thrash him. Thrash her.

The year began with great hope after waning of the first wave and the emergence of the savior, the vaccine, that would deliver us out of this devastation. The ‘Knight in shining armor’ declared its debut in a highly publicized event, protocols were set for countrywide vaccination of health care workers and the system was oiled and shined to bring life to the dying hope of millions of Indians. Then as days passed, precious unused vaccine vials found their way into dustbins, myths circulated faster than a sandstorm and the flow of the life serum started drying up even as crippled, hypertensive, diabetic, frail and terribly scared old and young people stood in the vaccination lines for hours under the blazing sun and had to be sent back disappointed and vulnerable to the exposure of the virus.

There was chaos. There was mayhem. There was ineptitude of the system. There was failure at very high levels. There was denial at the highest level. There was commotion and conundrum in hospitals and Covid centers. There were rallies and speeches, shamelessly bringing lakhs of people together for that piece of pie as politicians fell over each other salivating for the chair while the man on the streets continued to run with oxygen cylinders and dying loved ones in his arms. 

In all this came the jab of hope but only for a flash. The Knight in shining armor suddenly threw up his arms and fled to safer havens for reasons best known to him, leaving hundred billion pair of eyes deeply shocked at what fate had just denied them, the uncertainty of it all. The wave raged, the fungus found its way into hapless eyes and brains, the vaccine lines grew longer, the internet sites crashed and the livelihood of all came to a screeching halt.

The shrill voice continued to capture the thought process of one and all even as I tried to find sanity and peace at work. The thought of my vulnerability, exposure to the deadly virus and the strength of my life line just overtook all other happy thoughts. In spite of having been trained to defeat death in most circumstances, here was one invisible enemy that had pushed our doctor community on the other side of the table. The sordid things happening around me, the frustrations of a broken system, the helplessness of people and the arrogance of powers that are took the toll for most of the year gone by as I grappled to keep myself safe and afloat.

Just like everyone else.

Words left me, sentences deserted me and meaningful writing abandoned me.

Till I allowed myself to be enslaved by the external circumstances.

 They forgot one important thing. I am a survivor; I am a fighter and I am the man on the street! Just like the million others who have struggled to keep their sanity intact.

It’s taken some time, some meditating and some sage advice from the one who holds my hand tightly in this tsunami. I have cashed on to the words to get back the life that was once mine. I have allowed them to take their rightful place in my mind which I am now slowly and meticulously emptying of what just keeps hitting us every waking moment.

Keep writing, they tell me. We are here.

It’s all about purpose and meaning!

It’s all about finding happiness and loving the one life we have.

 

 Reina Khadilkar

BIRTHDAY THROUGH THE YEARS

 

BIRTHDAYS THROUGH THE YEARS

Your birthday is the most special day for you because it’s just your day which you ordinarily don’t share it with any member of your family or friends. The wishes are only for you and the love showered is specifically and specially for you and you alone! Its just simply your day in the whole of 365 days.

Over the years, birthdays have taken different meanings, different ways of celebration and different outlook to how the day should be.

In school, it was always a palpable happiness that began even as I opened my eyes. I would expectantly step into the hall or kitchen wanting someone to see me and break into a wish. Aai or Baba, whoever sees me first would shout across the room singing happy birthday and blessing me. Gifts of Camlin compasses, crayons, books, a new school bag or a pair of gold rings followed by a special drop to school by Mom when on other days it would be the tonga or the rickshaw. An extra hand bag for chocolates for the classmates and for teachers declared my special day at school. My best friend would insist on sitting next to me in the class and a flock of friends and not-much of friends would hover around me for the whole day. The evening was the gloriest of all- the hall decorated with crepe paper twisted to make wave like patterns that ran from one end of the hall to other, balloons stuck on walls, some floating aimlessly, specially stitched dresses, similar ones for me and my little sister, a cake with the brightest of colored cream rose flowers, pink and green and yellow, sandwiches loaded with chutney and butter, hot batata vada, wafers all served in paper plates and the candles that slowly out-grew the size of the cake.

In college, it was about the excitement of being wished in the corridors by friends shouting across as one surreptitiously wanted that person to hear it, and then if he would, he would awkwardly come and wish you from far without a hand shake, giving you goose bumps that made your day even more special. It was about independence, youthful energy, friends, heart aches and heart breaks, pen sets and hair clips as gifts,  dosa and coffee with the girl friends in the evening and returning home to a brightly colored cake, special dinner served in a silver plate , arati to ward off the evil and loads of blessings. No birthday ended without the mandatory new dress. The years were piling up, so was my independence. Yet the expectation of a gift and celebration continued.

Birthdays as a wife first and then as a mom started getting a little low key. The surprise and the gift here was the beautiful card which the kids made secretly in the night and gave it to me with a hug and kiss first thing in the morning. No other day ever felt so loved. But  then, rest of the day was about the kids, preparing for their day rather than mine, running around for household chores, pick and drop for classes and tuitions, work in between and to accept wishes on the land-line phone. The mandatory dress was there, but brought by me, the cake ordered by me, the dinner cooked by me. The childish expectations were long gone, yet I felt special and expectant of the love I got on this day.

Over the years, I have celebrated with family, friends, loved ones even as the number of people have steadily gone down. Parents and elders that blessed me have left one by one. Children grew up and flew away, siblings and cousins built their own worlds, distances set in. As forties turned to fifties and more, the expectations, the gifts, the parties, the shopping have all become a faint memory. The need to feel special has got eroded with time and birthday has become just that- day of birth.

It doesn’t feel that special anymore. It is now a reminder of the life I have left behind. It a reminder of the twists and turns I have taken on this roller-coaster journey. The joys, the pains, the sorrows, the mistakes, the achievements, the failures, all come back visiting this day and then its more about reminiscing rather than celebrating. Its more about being grateful for this day and this year rather than the materialistic pleasures that were once a hall-mark of a birthday.

The excitement of adding another year and feeling grown-up is now replaced by the hard fact that I am now a year closer to the finishing line wherever it is! It is now a humbling reminder of the time I have and the blessings I have collected in the form of my loved ones, friends and well-wishers.

Its now this gift that I treasure!

 

 

2020- AN UNPRECEDENTED YEAR

 

                                                                                                              

2020- AN UNPRECEDENTED YEAR.

Began with the usual gung-ho about having a ‘happy new year’, dancing, drinking, hugging, throwing treacle in the air, balloons and fire-crackers lighting up the sky as the world merrily bid good-bye to 2019.

A quiet January, a few short holidays thrown in here and there, resolutions stand broken and life gets on, seemingly normal, unsuspecting of the stealthily crouching tiger in your back-yard.

By February, reports filter in about a viral disease spreading in faraway China, where people were being asked/ forced to stay at home, doctors being picked up and transported for service to unknown destinations for an indefinite time. Pictures of deserted Wuhan captured the imagination of millions across the globe, yet for us, it was far too away. Life went on.

Early march, Italy and Spain repulsed under the attack of the virus, now known as Covid-19 and the sand under the feet shook. Trips to European cities stayed suspended as it was they who were affected. We were still denying its existence and went on with our routine.

Mid- March, international travelers brought the first few cases, a days’ Janata curfew followed by first ever lockdown for next three weeks brought our country to a grinding halt. International borders were sealed, air traffic halted and states closed vehicular movement.

Migration of a panicked, scared people working in other than their home states and now dying to go home became a crisis of getting thrown out of their homes for fear of bringing in the disease and deaths in uncountable numbers as they walked in hordes from one state to another in blistering heat.

The virus had attacked, pandemic was declared, hospitals burst at seams with patients coming in with anything from a running nose to severe breathlessness and some dying on hospital stretchers even before help could reach. ICUs seemed inadequate and none knew which medicines worked.

The count was rising and rising and rising!

Protocols during the next few months got set and re-set even as hundreds of doctors, over-worked, tired, breathless behind PPE kits, scared, affected and even dying of the illness, kept their chin up and fought to snatch as many lives as could be from the clutches of this monster virus.

Festivals, gatherings, weddings, parties were banned and face-mask became the unique tiny piece of apparel that would save hundreds of lives.

Economy took the worst hit as businesses spiraled into oblivion, the biggest IT industry moved inside homes of the millions of computer engineers, hotels closed down, tourism stopped and movie theatres remained a memory for avid movie-goers.

The world had changed. 

A new-normal had set in.

The year slowly chugging towards its fag end is a little better today, protocols are in place, drugs are helping in most cases, sero-surveillance and testing are getting that magical dip in numbers, the dipping counts and increasing recoveries, unburdening the massive weight of the health care system as the economy and people movement limps back to sanity. Scientists across the world are in the race to find the magical bullet!

2020 is a year no one will forget and no one wants to remember.

Here is a list of the good, bad and the ugly!

 

WHAT WENT OUT-

Trust.

Get-togethers, weddings, parties, discotheques, social gatherings,  meetings with relatives, going out-just like that.

Movies, eating out, restaurants, bonhomie over craft beer, Gym work-outs, cross-trainers and tread-mills running simultaneously, personal trainers helping you push that last weight.

 Small and large businesses, shopping sprees in malls, crowding in favorite shops for that exclusive item, gold buying in festivals.

Short and long vacations, international travel, flying without fear, night plying sleeper coaches, packed trains.

School, college, new books, new friends, old friends, smell of brown paper and scented erasor, afternoon tiffin, canteen samosas, after- school sports coaching,  tuition, classes, cycle rides to school and back, screaming with excitement in packed buses taking them home, black-board teaching, attendance, home-work, exams and results.

Parks and gardens, beach-fronts and camping sites buzzing with butterflies and delightfully prancing kids.

Public transport, bursting-at-seams local trains and buses, gossip and house work in cramped spaces of local trains, sweaty hands hanging in tiniest spaces of trains and buses to reach home, pushing and jostling to break the serpentine queues, the ubiquitous black and yellow, now mostly white taxi.

Hugs, kisses, PDA’s, one-nights, hand-shakes, late-night adventures, long drives.

WHAT CAME IN-

The new normal.

Fear of life.

Chirping birds, flocks of crows and parrots and sparrows, an occasional leopard or a mongoose or dolphins dancing on sea waves.

Clean air, low pollution levels, less carbon di-oxide damage, green covers.

Families together in large or cramped houses, increased inter-personal communication, more time with children, maid-less homes, learning to cook, wash, iron, clean, and also familiarity breeding irritation, domestic problems and violence, separations, divorces.

Less traffic, less consumption of energy fuels.

You-tube cooking, baking, new business ideas, new survival techniques

WHAT WE LEARNT-

That majority of the work goes on without having to move into tiny cubicles called offices- in short the concept of WFH.

The idea that irrespective of availability of extremely advanced health infra-structure, if you do not respect your body, an infinitesimally small particle will destroy it.

The idea that doctors fight just like the brave men and women protecting our borders but  are human too and need to be cared for and respected just like every other element in the society.

The idea that life can go on without spending endlessly and recklessly.

The idea that basic survival needs are very minimal.

The idea that ‘big fat wedding’, gold, silver, property, assets are not the main reason of happiness.

The idea that people we love, or who love us matter more than our race to reach the top.

The idea that we are ‘mortal’ with a limited time on hand.

 YOLO.

WORDS WE LOVED, HATED, FEARED, UNDERSTOOD, USED AND NEVER WANT TO HEAR AGAIN- ( in Alphabetical order)

Antibody

Antigen

Borders sealed

Bubble

Corona

Covid care centres

Hand washing

ICMR

Lockdown- 1, 2.0, 3.0, 4.0, 5.0…………

Mask

Migration

Mission begin Again

Nasal/throat swab

Pandemic

Quarantine

Rt-PCR

Social distancing

Ventilators

Virus

Webinars

WHO

Zoom meetings

 

THE ONLY WORD THE WORLD IS WAITING FOR-

VACCINE

 

Wishing all a hopeful 2021

 

 

Dr. Reina Khadilkar

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

DO I KNOW YOU- ITS ABOUT LOVE, FAITH AND CARE!

 

DO I KNOW YOU- ITS ABOUT LOVE, FAITH AND CARE

Prayer

 My uncle Mr. Shashi Kudrimoti, whom I have written about passed away yesterday, hopefully peacefully, a victim of the menacing virus that has attacked the human race. He is at peace, unburdened by the challenges of daily chores and the ordinary routine that silently makes our day, day in and out. Life has unchained him from loneliness that he fought for, for almost three decades, the last decade unknowingly and in utter sufferance. We in the family, hope this salvation gives him peace, quiet and a release from the ravages of Alzheimer.

I had written this a few days back and was to publish this as a tribute to the love that bonds this family and faith that can move mountains. I know these words didn’t matter to him just as everything else considering his illness. But I hope my prayer reaches his soul.

Dear Shashi kaka, you have been exemplary in life, illness and death! Go in peace.

 

DO I KNOW YOU?

One of my uncles who is now in his early eighties is suffering from Alzheimer’s for the past decade and has had to be institutionalized for care under supervision. He lives in a hospital for the mentally disabled, has a tiny room that includes a small bed, a table which he has no use of and a chair on which he sits only when the assistant helps him to. Perched on the table are a couple of photo-frames of his near and dear ones, whom he occasionally recognizes but immediately forgets. His physical stature is far from what he was a decade ago. The fair, medium tall, good looking, almost like a filmi hero, brilliant engineer who successfully retired as a top executive in a multi-national company, is now reduced to a shriveled old man whose once handsome features stick out prominently on sunken listless unrecognizing eyes and cheeks that almost touch each other from the inside. The characteristic laughter that defined the men in our family, is long buried, replaced by a slight movement, almost a quiver of a smile. Only, he is not aware that it’s a smile.

The routine which we all take for granted has deserted him long ago. Wearing clothes, slipping on flip-flops on feet, combing what is left on the dry pate, even the daily brushing of teeth is no longer his domain. Routine can happen only when a care giver will start his duty hours and do his job. The cup that cheers is now just a liquid that needs to be pushed down the stubborn unrelenting throat because the nurse says so.  It doesn’t matter if there is a potato or a brinjal, (which he hated once upon a time), he has no recognition of what is going down the gullet to keep him alive. The choice of shirt or the pair of pants to match are not his concern at all. Occasionally, there is a burst of emotion, an angry word shot out through a feeble voice or an angry gesture that hardly has any strength with it.

Sometimes in a flash, the kids’ names appear in his memory. How are they, he asks the care giver and even before the reply, the face is blank, the memory lost and the eyes see nothing.

 Is it a day or is it night already? Do I know me? Do I know you?

Yet in this sea of lost pathway, a bright light burns elsewhere. His sister, my aunt to be more precise, in her seventies no less, is the beacon that gives meaning to his existence. She visits him regularly, unmindful of her physical ailments, and spends precious time regaling him with stories of a happy yet long lost childhood, updating him on his children’s progress and nagging him for not eating well. Yet she knows that it all comes to a naught with him. Once in a while, he appears to recognize her and a smile lights up his face when he sees her. Its momentary, like a flash. Next moment it’s a blank face again. He has no memory of his sister. She smiles indulgently, holding his hand!

A few days back, we received a picture on WA which showed my aunt and her family celebrating his birthday with cake and candles. Her gentle hand guided his to the cake and she smiled with utmost warmth as she fed him a piece of cake, knowing fully well that he had no cognizance of what was happening around him.

Long time ago, I had read about the story of an old man who used to visit his wife suffering from Alzheimer disease, who had to be kept in an asylum.  In spite of his severely arthritic knees, he hobbled every single day with a news-paper and a thermos of tea, sat next to her as she lay staring listlessly in her bed, patiently read out the news, especially the editorial which she used to love, tell her how funny the cartoon for the day is, fold back the paper and walk back home hobbling again. This went on for many days. Finally, the doctor called him in his office and counselled him in the gentlest possible voice, “You know Sir, you should stop coming here. She is not getting any better and she does not understand a word of what you say. In fact, she doesn’t even know you”. The old man looked towards the doctor with the most loving eyes and said “Yes Doctor,I know she doesnt know me, but I know her”.

Alzheimer’s disease, also referred to simply as Alzheimer's, is a long-term degenerative disease of the brain that usually starts slowly and gradually worsens over time. The most common early symptom is difficulty in remembering recent events.  As the disease advances, symptoms include disorientation (including easily getting lost), mood swings, loss of motivation, not managing self, and emotional and behavioral issues. As a person's condition declines, they often withdraw from family and society. Gradually, bodily functions are lost, ultimately leading to death.

 It was in1901 that German psychiatrist Alois Alzheimer identified the first case of what became known as Alzheimer's disease, named after him, in a fifty-year-old woman he called Auguste D. He followed her case until she died in 1906, when he first reported publicly on it.

The cause of Alzheimer’s is still a big mystery even after advanced studies on genetics, cellular proteins and enzymes that can cause or prevent ageing and degeneration of the brain. The genetic inheritability, the Amyloid deposition theory, the tau protein theory, so may hypotheses, yet none that could be substantiated for finding a cure.

The bottom line is that we still are very far away from understanding the cause. What remains is fighting the battle together against Alzheimer.

The delaying of symptoms and management has been quite clear and the role of the family, treating doctor, physiotherapist and above all, the caregiver cannot be overemphasized. An active surrounding that keeps the mind alert needs to be created. Physical exercise, mental activity like reading, playing chess and other board games, even a musical instrument keeps the disease at bay although does not stop its advancement. Learning a second language can be helpful as it stimulates the memory and cognitive parts of the brain. Diet also plays a role, as foods rich in saturated fats and simple carbs appear to increase the disease process. Flavonoids and a healthy diet can help in prolonging symptoms.

 More importantly, it is the loving environment and the care given by near and dear ones that will keep the symptoms from rapidly worsening.

The cascade of degeneration never stops. Lot of adjustments have to be done. The deterioration has to be accepted and faced by the entire family and trained caregivers have to be appointed. Economics and other logistics have to be worked out.  It is very traumatic to see the gross physical and mental degeneration of a loved one. The daily fear of protecting your loved one from the inability to comprehend the surrounding gets the better of the entire family. But the collective strength of the family can help us to face this very distressing and challenging and losing battle of our loved one.

The facilities, although available in our country are yet to be at par with those in the developed countries. What sets us apart is that here the family stands with untold love and courage for these hapless victims of age, which is half the battle won! The unconditional care and love given by near and dear ones may not always reach the sufferer, but it definitely makes those flash of moments where memory blinks, happy for that person. It also helps to assauge the guilt we all feel for being normal when disease strikes our loved one, eating his/her body and mind slowly, surely, permanently!

Scientists across the world are working hard to find a way to catch the dreadful ailment and nip it in the bud and eventually find a cure so that all of us can grow old without the fear of losing our mind and body to the ravages of age and degeneration of the brain. 

When I see people like my paternal Aunt selflessly caring for her brother who no longer recognizes her, I am humbled to be a part of this family where love and courage conquers all, and defeats, not the disease, but the purpose of it.

My dear Uncle, You may no longer recognize them but your family knows you and loves you deeply.

REINA KHADILKAR