Waiting - Live Laugh Love

Recently watched this heartwrenching, thought provoking movie - Waiting. It's a story of an old man (Naseeruddin shah) and a young woman (Kalki Koechin) connected by  the same tragedy - spouse being in coma, And, how they support each other in accepting the loss. The movie raises some important questions about love life and letting go. You may want to place it in your must-watch list.

I felt instantly connected with this movie. I could visualise my grand parents in Naseer and Suhasini's role. This made it even more emotional for me.

My grandmother suffered from a brain stroke last year and has been bed-ridden, in semi-coma state since then.  It's been around 15 months. I say semi-coma because she still has sleep cycles. She is on liquid diet. She looks at people, blinks her eyes. When I met her around 6 months back, I could sense that she could listen to people around, but is not able to reciprocate. Her left brain injuries have lead to paralysis on her right side of the body and complete loss of facial expressions. Imagine yourself lying on bed. You cannot move on your own. All you can see is as much you can roll your eyes. Plus at 70plus age your eye sight is weak. Life gets cornered in a rectangular cot.

Now imagine yourself as the caretaker. You have to keep taking care waiting for something to happen. You don't even know if she listens to you and understands. How long could one wait for a response? How long could one deal with the uncertainty of life? My grandfather has been dealing with this trauma day in and day out. He feeds her with unconditional love, swinging between hope and despair. 

That's my grandfather with my grandmother - Eternal love story. I remember how they understood each other without having the need to sometimes even talk. They have loved, laughed and lived with and for each other and now life has come to a long pause! 

He wrote this and kept it in a book, which my mom secretly read and shared with me. It was an emotional read and I treasure it. I saved it in my favourite pics. Today I am sharing with you all. 

He is quite a poet, isn't he? Below is the text:

I cannot say and will not say that she is dead. She is just away with a cheery smile and wave of hand, she has wandered into an unknown land
And left me dreaming how very fair it must be since she lingers there.
Think of her faring on, as dear, in the love of there as love of here.
Think of her still as the same... 
I say.. She is not dead. She is just away.
She has only gone a little ahead, to fashion a home for me.
There will be curtains blowing
And books,as there used to be;
Pictures, a desk and a table fare, 
where friends shall love to come...
She has only gone on as a mother would to make me a new home
She has only gone as others have who vanished from our sight.
others whose lives with ours were wed till that mysterious flight.
None shall declare her death to me,
my loneliness deplore- oh it is like her to go ahead to open the new door.
She has gone only a little ahead, to find me the loveliest place
O darling! now it is clear to me, you have only gone ahead.

On my grandfather's birthday today, I dedicate this post to my beloved grand parents and salute them for everything they have done in their lives and for creating a legacy of love which will last for generations to come.

Scars and survival

It is not always that I don't have anything to write and it is not always time management concerns. Sometimes its just that I avoid personal things on blog. I have always avoided that. But in my hostel years, I really didn't have much personal things. Now that my life revolves around office and home with almost no ME time, the only things that come to my mind are personal. I fear of being judged. I don't want my family and friends to understand things which I may not mean at all. 

We all do this. Sometimes we hide our scars, our sobs and we silently weep being afraid of being judged. We hate saying that we are hurt. We pretend to be happy or become silent, not letting our feelings out.

We should be like children, cry our hearts out when hurt. And soon be happy with tiny things of life -a paper boat, a toy, a toffee or a story. 

When my son broke and dislocated his elbow bone, he was just a year and eight months old. The moment we were back from hospital after his surgery, he was back on his tricycle -all happy. He was on cast for the next four months. He cried when it pained, but soon shifted his mood to a happy one with a simple distraction trick.  Now after almost 2 years, the scar of some twenty stitches is still there. He still remembers how he fell from the slider in the park. But he is not afraid of using the slider. He shows off that scar to his friends with pride, "Look how strong I am!". When I heard him saying this to his friend, I scolded him, "It's not great to get hurt, Vishnu! You should be careful!", I said.

But on a deeper thought, may be this is what we should learn from kids. Scars are but a sign on strength and survival. Kids show their scars with pride. As we grow old, we hide them. Wounds become our secrets. For kids it is a story to tell- An accomplishment.