I have not written for a while - it takes a lot out of you. Life gets in the way. Also, I had to think hard about this day as I have bitter/sweet memories of it - this day it finally sank into me that dad had passed away. I had my share of grief but had plenty of partners in that and this partnership helped me through....
Mannu and I slept at the hospital again - this had quite an obvious meaning for me. I was not sleeping in my own house, as if I had become anaath - again, anaath has a beautiful meaning; without a naath - husband, but here (and generally) the meaning is orphan. I was an orphan now, sleeping along side my brother, who would feel this void more than me. Seventeen years of living in the wilderness creates a distance from everything.
Mannu's story is interesting. He has had his ups and downs. Being the youngest in the lot, maturity came the latest to him but surely it was sudden and forced upon. It was in my absence that Guria got married, it was in my absence that Mannu took over from my retiring dad, it was in my absence that he got married and became a father - I say absence as I came only as a guest, enjoyed the show and went back to my 'other' life. Even if I wanted to be a part of 'that' I could not - I had already broken ties.
How fast and how deeply was Mannu matured/maturing is a reality that only Mannu knows. He is trying to balance a life between what he wants and what is expected of him, something that I did not have to do (or found it too easy and hence was not an issue). This is a story of a lot of us that are trapped in between the demands of the society over our own perceptions of fulfillment. It becomes inflamed if the role you are playing does not jive with the changing times - almost a post-modern issue.
I will refrain from telling the stories of other people as I, again, am a guest to this milieu of writing thoughts for a public discourse. I have had my own share of struggles, as have others. I thought about Mannu because I feel helpless in helping him - not to say that he needs help but rather he was closest to dad, at least physically. Guria thinks she was the closest and she is probably right; but so do Tini didi, Mini didi and Binny didi, just as examples - they were there before we three were born!
Anyways, the morning brought its own rush of people - the republic day helped the masses to come in throngs and stay longer. Mom ran between the ICU and the waiting room, informing everyone the latest score. Doctors came and went by while we all waited patiently for news, any news, that would rekindle hope. Mannu and I were supposed to have breakfast at Bhagwan Dass Nagar, but had to drop something at Khanna Auntie's in Punjabi Bagh - thats where we had breakfast. This is also where the scheming of getting the 2nd, 3rd opinion started.
Khanna Auntie's cousin was a well known neuro-surgeon; so was Mini didi's acquaintance. They were the top people in their field in Delhi and the troops would be sent to their homes in the evening to raise any kind of hope. The CT scan copies were already made last night and ready to go. All we needed were copies of other reports, that duly came in the 'Indian Stretchable time' (IST). Mini didi was concerned that these hospital people already knew the inevitable and were just buying time (and money) till they needed the bed for the next patient - Baba virji was perturbed and insisted that we do not rush things and let mom be the final decision maker as when to pull the 'plug.'
Breakfast was good - ghobi paranthas with makhan and dahi - excellent! Lunch was also awaited patiently in the hospital and all the other decisions listed above happened somewhere in between. We were to leave for South Delhi (that's where the two doctors reside) as soon as we had the reports copied. But waiting for the copying of the report was like witnessing 'waiting for Godot' drama by Beckett ( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Waiting_for_Godot ).
As usual, the lunches came from Bari Mummy and Khanna Auntie and were duly devoured in time, respectfully by all. Today, being the Republic Day, everyone was there - even Kaka virji came from Jammu. Gurinder Virji had returned back as well (or may be next day). Gurmukh Uncle were already here. We entered into some planning after lunch as Mickey Virji thought that it would be better if systematised the visitation - surely someone close had to be there all the time. Somehow the hospital administration could not be trusted and a person from the family had to oversee the whole procedure. Sonu and Sonu Khanna were given the duty to stay overnight this time, although I would have loved to continue on.
Also, people had to get back to their regular schedule after the republic day - that was a healthy way of dealing with the situation. I had come on Wednesday night and it was already Friday and I had seen everyone at the hospital as if nothing else was important. But a normalcy had to be restored as this could be a prolonged recovery....
Finally the copies of the reports came and Sonu Khanna was sent to make extra copies. We were supposed to meet at Bunny/Baba Virji's house and make CD's of the CT scans. Sonu was to meet us there and exchange other reports for the CD so we had all the documents to proceed to the two different doctors. Auntie and Sonu went to their acquaintance in Panchsheel and Mini didi and I proceeded over to Defence Colony.
Mini didi called the doctor when we were five minutes away and, being the republic day, the doctor asked us to leave the reports, so he can look them over later. Mini didi, in her style, insisted if we could just get him to see us for five minutes....which he reluctantly agreed to. The driver found the house and we were duly ushered into his clinic, on the side of the house. We patently waited and he arrived as I had the CT scans ready to role on the computer.
After looking through the reports and the scans the doctor was convinced of the inevitable - dad had already passed away (brain dead) and we could confirm this by conducting EEG (to check if there was any brain activity). He also talked to Dr. Sachdeva and instructed him to conduct an EEG next morning to see what was going on. He explained the condition to Mini didi and me.
Dad had suffered Brain Hemorrhage, as was evident in the first cat scan. Further, the blood was not isolated by itself but in fact was mixing with the cerebrospinal fluid (CSF) and hence the complication. As it poured into CSF it was changing the chemistry of the brain and, consequently, as was evident to the doctor in the second CT scan, had caused the brain death.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cerebral_hemorrhage
The finality of this opinion took some time to sink - by the time I reached the car it had sunk in deep enough. Mini didi also realised what had happened - we had gone shopping for opinions to find somebody who would give us hope but instead had a stark truth thrown upon us - very well explained at that! This was my first moment of crying while facing this reality.
Last few days of uncertainty was finally over - I had to come to terms to something that I was expecting anyways, but this time with no cushion. It was not tomorrow that he was going to die - he was already dead! I call this bitter-sweet as, on one hand I came to know what was inevitable, on the other it was final with no more days of hope. It was an end to a bad dream, although it was a reality I did not want - it still was an end. It was sweet from that perspective. No body could keep giving me hope anymore. To realise that your father had died was bitter but to be freed from the constant unknowing of a situation was sweet.
As tears unrolled through my eyes, Mini didi had to make a decision whether to go back with me or meet Atul at the hotel, the original plan - I told her firmly that I will go to hospital by myself and she should meet Atul. I did not want to go inside the hotel though and therefore left her at the door and the driver drove me back to the hospital. Mini didi must have seen me cry and probably called Mickey virji to apprise him of the situation. Whether I like it or not, I have a great gift of being aware of a situation all the time - with all its emotions and thoughts. I could see the pain in Mini didi's eyes, leaving me with my grief while she attended to her daily life. She tried her darnedest to comfort me without realising that I did not need comfort. I had understood the situation and was fine with it - the tears were just a physical reaction to a situation given.
The awareness that I talk about is from a spiritual perspective. Without delving into religion and God and without sounding preachy, this is a gift from the beyond, on which no one has control and lies outside the spheres of reason. You cannot prepare for it and when it 'comes' to you you are never prepared - you cannot be! It is a gift for which you have to open yourself - by delearning everything and consummating your ego. Someday I'll talk more about this....
Mickey Virji called me and told me to meet downstairs before coming up - he wanted to talk to me, get info and prepare me to face the public. I do not know what Mini didi had said to him but I understood his need to keep the situation under control. The news from the other opinion may not have been good either, and I was later told that, but I would like Sonu Khanna to give details if possible. My own details are blurred and if Mini didi could clarify (if need be) on what actually did the doctor say.
Anyway, as asked, I duly called Mickey virji when I reached downstairs. We sat down in the car and talked about what we need to do, in terms of services and everything. We talked about keertan and inviting Sunil Arora for that. Mickey virji called him right away to confirm dates and everything. This probably was also the first instant of Mickey virji realising the inevitable - he took time out at night listening to keertan in his car. I do not know what went through his mind but for some of us that day was our final tributes to my father. Sonu Khanna and I also met outside, so did Mannu and we finally let it sink in us......The person that we had loved for such a long time had finally left us orphaned.
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