The Columbian Miracle – Part I

“Are you insane, Richa? The bomb blast is all over the news!” he yelled over-anxiously. It didn’t matter at that second, it was my bestie’s last night in town. So to hell with him (my boyfriend). I resolved to face his music later. We were busy selfie-ing our superstar poses in the cab, taking us to an uber lavish lounge having a floor-lit bar and city’s birdseye view. The cab honked and I dolefully realised that I was in Mumbai and everything was poles apart. That thought escorted me to how that inevitable spectacle happened, changing my life forever.

I can’t summon much from that metamorphic night. I was on my way to Kempegowda (Bengaluru) international airport. My dream of surprising my parents did come true, but in the form of a shock. My airport cab hurled into a giant truck and I was embraced by darkness. Moan, not a sexy one, odour of an antiseptic, wheels scratching the floor, keyboards being attacked somewhere far away, a woman pleasantly saying, ‘please close both the doors.’ Yes, I was convinced of being in a hospital.

May 2015 | Columbia Asia Hospital | Bangalore

I gingerly took in the sight. It was my fifty years old man, tall, fair, good-looking, in a deeply animated discussion with a slender and pretty, much younger female wearing a white lab coat. My completely stressed out boyfriend walked in. The dark bands under his eyes vividly displayed fatigue. Still, his tempting lips instantly curled on spotting me. His peck on my forehead was so satisfactory that words weren’t necessary. At that moment, we were spotted by my Bangalore bestie! It felt so cute, like lovers caught in a filthy action. “Hello you love birds!” he teased, giving us flying kisses.
“I’ll inform aunty,” my boyfriend immediately called her.
My father’s tired eyes found mine and I could notice bliss. My mother raced him.
“I was on my way when I got the call. I couldn’t wait! Do you know what date it is?” she was breathless. I was blank, praying that it’s the same year.
“Of course she doesn’t,” dad gratefully ended the confusion.
“11th May, our anniversary. And you have given us the biggest gift we can ever ask for,” she cheerfully chirped.
Seeing those happy faces was sinfully joyous.

From paralysis to dumbness to lung cancer to fearing that my parents probably kept me in dark. Such scary thoughts crazily danced in my head. After analysing the discharge report, I was satisfied of it being an accident and nothing more. Days turned into months with no obvious and/or significant improvement in spite of my physiotherapy and speech therapy. That major setback powerfully placed me in a slingshot. I was happily settled in a reputed firm but I began by earning a little. I totally love my friends but I could not cope up with seeing myself this way with them so I ignored everyone. After that I saw a psychiatrist which further buried me. That affected me adversely, which they ardently understood, and I am gradually making a comeback. This catastrophic event taught me to be stronger than I ever was, discover solutions, focus on myself, and has made me ready for an emotional upheaval. God knows I have many!

It took me two years to accept that I cannot re-write the past, but I have a clean page to write the future.

To be continued…

For Father’s Day:

Caterpillar in the tree, how you wonder who you’ll be
Can’t go far but you can always dream
Wish you may and wish you might
Don’t you worry hold on tight
I promise you that there will come a day
Butterfly fly away

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