Saw her for the first time on a
Tuesday afternoon sitting cross legged with an old man to her right and a woman
with a scarf on her head to her left. Next to her sat my wife who was telling
me about the tests that had been done on her octogenarian mother admitted in
the hospital the night before. You just could not miss this pretty girl with
chubby cheeks and sparkle in her eyes and surprisingly she gave me a knowing
smile. After a while saw her cuddle the older woman in her arms and heard her
say, “You need to be positive. Everything
will be alright. We need to be patient and he will soon come home the way he
had left.” Was taken aback by the positivity and maturity this young girl
was showing which was much beyond her years.
My wife, Debi, told me that her
name was Sheeba. Her husband was riding a motorcycle when he had an accident
about two weeks ago. Since then he had been on a ventilator and had undergone
multiple surgeries. Sheeba was just 23 years old and her husband fighting for life
was twenty five and they had a loving ten month old daughter. She’s a kid, I
said, three years younger to my daughter and how is she facing this grave a situation with a smile
on her face? My heart went out for the kid.
As soon as the crowd in the waiting
room thinned and Sheeba walked across to me and said, “Hi!” I didn’t know how to react and just smiled back, raised my
hand and repeated Hi. “I’ve been waiting
to meet you. While having coffee with your wife in the morning, she told me
about you, how you take care of her mother over the years. So I said to myself
that I must meet him.” Speechless was I at the unexpected…unexpected praise
from most unexpected quarters passed on to me by an unexpected person who I was
meeting for the first time. But seeing and listening to this young frail girl
talking so freely and cheerfully with an almost unknown person she had just met
and at a time when her mind ought to be preoccupied with the grief and survival
of her man inside the ICU completely rattled me.
Sheeba and the elderly couple
left the floor. Debi told me that it was Ramzaan time and they had gone to the
prayer hall on the ground floor after which they would break their fast for the
day. We too went to the cafeteria for a cup of coffee when I heard Sheeba’s
story. She was fifteen and he was seventeen when they had met for the first
time and fell madly in love. Their courtship lasted over six years when the
families after much reluctance from the boy’s side agreed to their marriage.
She said, “My whole world for the last eight years revolves around Mohsin. He’s
so handsome and so gentle a soul. He takes so much care of me that I couldn’t
have asked for more. He makes sure I can
go to my mother’s place every weekend and mediates beautifully whenever there
are tensions in the family especially with my mother in law. He had set up a shop of his own selling shoes
for children and business was good. The
best part about Mohsin was his spirit to help others. Anyone in the neighbourhood
who was unwell or needed any help, he would go out of his way to help. He knew
all doctors and hospitals in the vicinity and it was not uncommon for him to
pull out the doctor out of urgent engagements to take a look at a patient he
would take to them without any appointment. Yet on the evening when he suffered
the accident, Mohsin lay at the site bleeding and wriggling in pain for nearly
forty five minutes before someone brought him to the hospital.” That’s
life, we all say Good Karma begets Good Life but often it doesn’t happen that
way.
Next few days saw me meeting
Sheeba everyday and admire her even more. She would always welcome me with a
big smile. One evening I was sitting with her father in law while she and Debi
had gone inside the ICU. The old man said that when they saw Mohsin that
fateful day, they had given up all hope. But it was all because of this girl,
Sheeba, that they decided to stand by her in her fight. “We’ve already spent over nine lacs on the treatment and have no qualms
in spending any amount. We just hope our boy gets well and this girl’s prayers
are heard. If not for her, we would have given up long ago.” Later Debi
told me that the same old man hardly ever used to speak to Sheeba for two years
since her marriage. She could never guess whether he just wanted to stay aloof
or was unhappy at the girl his son had chosen for himself that he kept so
quiet. But lately there is not a moment when he doesn’t call for her, “Sheeba Beta
yeh, Sheeba Beta woh….”
One afternoon Sheeba was sitting
by my side and I saw her doing a video call. In the picture was a cute chubby
baby and an elderly woman. Sheeba kept repeating a name which I couldn’t make
out but was certain this was her kid and possibly her own mother who would take
care of the baby during the day. It was only at night that she would bring the
baby to her in-law’s place and sleep for a few hours together. For the
remaining part of her day she would be perched on the 10th floor of
the hospital outside the ICU. She later told me that every day she shows the
baby’s video to Mohsin hoping it would wake him up seeing the noor of his eyes. Mohsin wouldn’t budge
but Sheeba wasn’t the one to give up either.
After a couple of days, saw the
girl was excited as Mohsin had opened his eyes after so many days of slumber.
The floor was immediately filled with friends and relatives wanting to see
Mohsin again. Happiness was in the air and it looked as if by Eid he would be
able to make it home. But the very next day Debi told me that Sheeba hadn’t had
breakfast as Mohsin had fever. She couldn’t be persuaded to eat anything that
day till late in the evening when it seemed things had once again got under
control. I had got her a chocolate which she happily put inside her purse
saying she will have it at home along with Mohsin when he returns. As luck
would have it, the next morning one of the relatives of a patient waiting
outside had a bout of hypoglycemia and needed something sweet instantly and
Sheeba quickly took out the chocolate and gave the person a couple of large
cubes and saved the day. Now she has half a chocolate but a heart full of faith
and hope to have it soon at home…together.
By evening that day I saw an old
woman waiting again outside the ICU calmly sitting and watching some You Tube videos
and Whatsapp messages. Debi told me she was a 70 year old lady and her mother
of 90 had suffered a heart attack and was in the ICU. I asked why is she alone,
to which I got to know that she has a daughter who is at Dubai and a son who is
at Mumbai. She doesn’t want to bother anyone so she will manage the emergency
all alone. And yes I saw her all alone for many a day managing everything from
paying bills, signing consent forms, sleeping on an uncomfortable chair at
night, eating whatever was available but she always kept a smile on her face
and never did she ever complain about anything.
As if two brave ladies in their
20s and 70s wasn’t enough, this silly middle aged woman in her 50s with whom
I’ve lived for nearly three decades now insisted that I should go every day to
work and not waste time at the hospital. She even forced me to go to Delhi for
work saying she could manage everything by herself. She had by then become the
Florence Nightingale of the Hospital. Every person waiting outside ICU was known
to her. She would make sure Sheeba had breakfast with her, Aunty could get curd
rice in the canteen for dinner, someone would insist that she be in the same
room at night…maybe it’s her calling.
The Chief of Indian Army, General
Bipin Rawat recently announced that women would soon be inducted into active
military service. I just want to say, “Dear
General Saab, these women have been fighting wars of survival since they were
born, sometimes for self and on most times for their loved ones. You need not always
fight wars with arms and ammunition. In the battlefield of Kargil and Siachen
you fight the enemy you know in blood and sinews, here in the hospital you’re
fighting death with no shape or figure and yet these women stand strong all
alone.”
Got reminded of an old song, Hey
Woman where the man laments at what all a woman is doing nowadays and asks her to act normal and woman like:
She flies a helicopter
And she plays in a band
She’s a doctor, she’s a lawyer
She’s a military man
I don’t like it pretty lady
Why can’t you understand
That a woman is a woman
And a man is a man
With a prayer in my heart for all those waiting outside the ICUs and a
Salute to you Hey Woman!
SS
Very interesting read about strength of women. I can relate to the characters so well. My mother is one such strong lady.
ReplyDeleteSibeshda..my special thanks to you for writing this articles..for the honour and the respect you hv given to these silent warriors..and reminds me of many such bravehearts who are someone's mother or sister or wife or daughter waiting at the Tata hospital ...with a near kin fighting the "Rajrog" or "emperor of all diseases"....with hope and optimism.
ReplyDeleteI pray Mohsin gets well soon and goes back to Sheeba,the 90 yrs old mother to the 70 yr old daughter and of course masima to her home with her loving daughter and son in law.
Sibesh u r too good. The emotions really touch u.I only know some of the characters here. You make it all come alive. I am becoming more ardent fan of yours everyday.
DeleteIf good wishes heal; my utmost heartfelt wish to Mohsin.Hope the world around remains as supportive always.
Satyendra
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ReplyDeleteVery touching story, narrated so well. Keep telling (stories), keep writing.
ReplyDeleteSibesh,
ReplyDeleteVery well written.
Cheers.
Blessed, absolutely, to have the honour of reading such heart warming life tales, examples of strength and perseverance. A silent prayer for those who lie on those beds, and for those who stand besides them, never to give up.
ReplyDeleteSuperbly written. Touched by the emotions in the story
ReplyDeleteSuperbly written. Touched by the emotions in the story
ReplyDeleteYour article touched my heart. Women maybe the fairer sex but not the weaker! In my personal experience, crises are better handled with positive women in control. I do hope Sheeba's Mohsin recovered and returned home.
ReplyDeleteVery heart touching... I have never thought in this way while have seen so many instances. As usual, again HAts off on your creative writing Sir.
ReplyDelete