When thunder strikes ….

The alarm bell rings, I reluctantly wake up. Dreams that were streaming, kept on hold for now. I pop up, a hot cup of coffee and on with the day. Home chores completed and off to work. Well past sunset, back home. Family to be attended to with some time for entertainment ( movie) and off to bed. Workdays nothing changes, Sundays are lazy days. This is not just my story, but a story of many working women around the world.

Similar the routine but with a small variation would be the schedule for a homemaker. I would guess more hectic and demanding. A small indulgence of having the luxury of a nice evening walk, chatting with friends on a garden bench is the envy of most working women ( including me).

On occasions when I was able to take a walk around on a few relaxed evenings, two friends would be seated on the garden’s periphery, chatting, giggling and generally greeting walkers like me. Catching up a bit here and there once in a while was indeed a pleasure. Ishita and Nupur ( names changed ) were the two friends who were there almost every evening. Well dressed, always sporting a smile and generally in the know of happenings around. A sight not to be missed and honestly, heart of heart I did envy them!

Somewhere, in time these rendezvous had gaps and occurred far between. No, it is not what you think – Nupur’s health took a beating and she was required to go in for treatment, which meant she was on medication or in and out of the hospital. Since I was not fully aware of her ailment and its details I was unaware of the full picture. I, however, always wished her well and prayed for her speedy recovery.

Its been a couple of years, she never got back to her original self and things seemed to go downhill. Some days were better, some not so good and some really bad. I remembered her often but felt it would not be right for me to barge into her house to meet her. However, would check on her from her friend Ishita and get regular updates. Having met her husband at a social gathering and getting an indication that she will be happy to meet, I requested Ishita to accompany me to meet her.

It was a Sunday evening, I met her and came home more than shaken. An elegant woman from the hills, who had the best smile, who carried herself with elan was not anything like her original self. A hospital bed in her bedroom, an attendant by her side, tubes running across her nose and eyes wanting to say so much. She had lost so much weight and hair, but not her million-dollar smile. She greeting me with a broad smile, making me feel so welcome. She is blessed with a wonderful family ( spouse, sisters, children and friends) who hover around her – her caregivers, her support and those loving set of hands that give her hope.

Since she is unable to communicate verbally, she writes out the few words she wants to convey. Her mind connects to her fingers and conveys to those who will understand what she intends to say. The human brain is indeed a masterpiece wired to help in the worst of situations. Salute the creator we must.

On my return home, a restless night, disturbed sleep and thoughts running amok in my mind. Uncertainty of life is something each one of us knows, but facing it head-on , dealing with challenges sickness brings with it, leaving you helpless and broken from within is a different ball game altogether. During our hail and hearty days, each one of us ought to cherish the wellness we are blessed with. Along the journey of life, such roadblocks and speed breakers will pop up. Seeking strength to handle these detours and deviations that take us through rough roads is what our prayers should be. Prayers for wealth or materialistic pleasures stand nowhere if health takes a beating. Self and loved ones to stay healthy is what happiness is all about.

With age, couples tend to get closer as they are now two branches of one tree. Can’t do without each other, get used to the crazy idiosyncrasies, maturity brings with it a degree of forgiveness and love emerges is shades that were buried somewhere under responsibilities and worldly struggles.

When one of these branches crack up and does not have the strength to stand tall or brave storms and hold on to the trunk, the other branch realigns itself to be the support to the sick/wounded branch so that its pain is reduced and the winds do not damage it further.

This is exactly the story of Nupur and every Nupur who has to pass through this dark tunnel as this journey moves on day after day, year after year and decade after decade.

When thunder strikes and lightning hurts, make sure you have showers that cascade to soothe those nerves.

My wishes and prayers for this ‘Nupur’ as she moves on – one day at a time, unsure of what is in store for her in the next lap of this race we call ‘LIFE’