I distinctly remember, it was a mournful night, things weren't nice from the beginning itself, it spelt sadness, my mother, who had not been keeping well for somewhile now, went into the kitchen. As the whistles of the cooker blew, there was a thud, a sad thud, and then everyone was running around, my mom was lying in front of me with her eyes closed, I was crying, and this was just the beginning. She had been prescribed with severe jaundice, it had spread into the blood, now I would have to stare at my mother from far away and everytime, I tried to find a passage to her, someone would stop me, no one cared about how much she needed me by her side, and I was not there, I could not help her, I was just being a loser all over again, who would just cry infront of idols, that never spoke, but did assure me, things would be fine, and things did get better, but only for that moment. For the next two years she was fine.
I had come home from school, my mother had picked me up from the bus stop, she seemed uneasy, we came home, and she broke into unstoppable vomit attacks, she was being asthmatic, I was panicing, crying again as usual, wondering what to do, I called my father. Everyone was running again. And then that familiar smell now of the laboratories. High degree of germs, the doctor said they were cough germs, I do not know what it means, what was wrong. It was in the blood again. She continued to suffer. And I just cried.
Two years, it was going to be an eventful Tuesday morning, my father had decided he would offer his prayers to Lord Hanuman, in whose name, he had been fasting for the last 20 years of his life, every Tuesday, not a drop of water, till late in the evening. My mom was supposed to cook. She was going to make the prasad. Churma, my favourite. She woke up. We did too. She could not move her left hand. I did not know what to do. Of course, there were people running again. It was paralysis. Deltoid Paralysis, I distinctly remember the Orthopaedic say, I remember his name too, but I won't take his name. This time she was sent to Chennai. I, was kept away again. 15 days without my mother. My dad was weeping and I was weeping. She was there and we were here. My dad had to arrange for the cash. She was going to get operated. A high profile operation. A disc was going to be removed. They removed it. She came off the train. Holding an orange teddy for me, knowing how much I loved soft toys, a bit of girl in me you could say. Her neck had a stand. I don't even know what it was. It was hideous. Sad. The supports increased. She was now prescribed with Spondlyosis now.
Pain killers. Physiotherapy. Traction. Nothing has worked till date. The pain killers had adverse effect. She has a weaker kidney now. She cannot eat every pain killer in the world now. She has diabetes. She cannot take tension now. Walking on the roads, she has to sit down. Because, she cannot walk further. But now, I do not cry. Because I am there for her. I need to make her smile. I need her beside me. I try every day to make her a happier person, and I will all my life. Everyday I assure her, I will make everything go back to normal. She believes me. She smiles.
Things are even worse now. The pain killers have been stopped. Her kidney cannot take it. She just has to bear the pain. But she tries. So I try too.
I do not intend on showing what a sad life my mother has. I just want people to stop crying like I decided to, and make things happen. My mother being sick is not the only sad part in my life. But that does not give me an excuse to give up. It only gives me a reason to try even harder. And I will. I hope if you are reading this, you will too...try a little bit harder, to make the people close to you smile, for it is what we do in our life, that goes on to live till eternity.
