The Fear of Failure
It was all over. The doctor had almost declared her dead. A perilous surgery with immense possibilities of infections seemed to be the only way forward. A chance at a mere trial was all that could be afforded. Even though it meant, a terrible transformation to her tender anatomy and a severe struggle with indolence.
That was the verdict that fell upon us that day and slaughtered our senses to numbness.
It just became a blur and the following few weeks were ruthlessly taken up by random medical visits. Also, incessant investigations and a desperate holding on to any word that offered a way. But then we were resolute in combating the cancer that had raised its serpentine head and threatened the very existence of our mother. After two weeks of ceaseless deliberation, we finally took the decision. Of course, there was the anxiety that something unpleasant might happen but nonetheless, we were willing to attempt it. We took our mother to Mumbai where a medical team had put forward a prospect that seemed propitious and promising.
Nothing goes as Planned
Everything went as planned. It was supposed to be a ten-hours long surgery, but every time, the minutes paused, our pulses did too. At the end of it, the doctors appeared before us, looking dishevelled. They had not arrived with the procedure where they had expected to and despondency was writ large on their faces. We peered through the circular glass, barely recognizing the woman, who, lay spent between the cold sanitised sheets.
The woman, who had never taken a stand for herself for more than six decades of her life, today, astonishingly, reflected the bravado with which she had battled, only for her children.
The words of Samuel Beckett kept ringing in my ears: “…you must go on, I can’t go on, I’ll go on…”
Ganeshasend
We were caught in a flurry of emotions, when suddenly an old woman walked up to us. She had been sitting there for a while and having overheard the conversations with the doctors and amongst ourselves, was cognizant of our predicament. As I looked up at her face, I was overwhelmed by the radiance of her countenance. In a voice that sounded like a meditative prayer, she reminded us not to lose hope but to bolster ourselves for the challenges that lay ahead. Her presence permeated us with a calm that we had not experienced since the catastrophic awareness of the deadly disease and its complications.
Before leaving, she whispered into our ears, the escape out of the quagmire and we almost went into a trance as we were willing to execute every word of hers, verbatim.
With muddled minds and mellow hearts, we found ourselves entering the hallowed precincts of Shri Siddhivinayak Temple, in no time. As we meandered our way through a dense crowd, hardly knowing what we were doing, I was fascinated by the inscrutability of life! Here we were in the temple of an unfamiliar city, our hands full of offerings but our hearts filled with hollowness. We were seeking an affirmation that medical science had failed to deliver.
From Fear to Faith
That day, merely a few minutes in front of Navasacha Ganapati, changed our lives and learnings, forever. That day, it was a son and a daughter, who were picked up from the nadir to be nourished with peace and poise that only unembellished prayers could perhaps create. A week passed and eventually our mother was discharged from the hospital. Two weeks later, our mother was stable enough to be flown back to our hometown, Kolkata. She had to be administered chemotherapy without any further delay. Months melted into years as we cherished our atomic wins and overlooked our colossal setbacks.
Little did we know when our flickering faith had coagulated into a binding belief and when the darkness of the cells gave way to the light of a spiritual connection.
It has been a little more than six years since this metamorphic event upended our understanding of ourselves. ‘Maa’ is doing fine and her being is a manifestation of an ‘act of grace’ that was conceived in a belief. It blossomed into bounty and beatitude that can only be experienced beyond reason. The miracle has mutated into a ritual of paying obeisance to Shri Siddhivinayak Ganesha every year and thanking Him for not only giving our mother a new lease of life but also annulling our scant selves.
Benediction of Buddhinath
The journey from fear to faith has been a liberating one. It has empowered us to evolve into our most veritable versions and to accept demise as a desired culmination. More significantly, to live a life that is anchored in dedication and devotion.
And while we are on this journey, let the spirit sing the Lord’s name:
Om Gam Ganapataye Namaha
By Promita Banerjee Nag
An avid word enthusiast and content-churner, Promita is fuelled by novel writings, ideas and light-hearted banter. A teacher by passion, she treads the path of unequivocal learning with and through her students. Mother, music and ‘mishti’ mostly convince her. If you wish for a tête-à-tête, feel free to reach out to her at promita033@gmail.com.
