I thought the whole of my mind’s capacity is immense and I
always believed that emotionally, I’m a very strong man. But from past couple
of weeks, my emotional weakness has intensified within me and I’ve started to
know and feel things that I’ve never known or felt before. I’m trying to refuse
to venture into the thought that I’ve conceded defeat, but I’m not able to
fight it. I’ve never seen deaths in my family/friends circle, I’ve never seen
anyone experience hardship and physical agony this hopelessly. My granny is on
death bed from a few weeks and this is the source of my disturbance.
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| Good old days of my Grandma |
For the records, she is 93 and is an Alzheimer’s disease
patient from past couple of years. She was fit and fine, she used to read The Deccan Herald everyday and with her
little insights to what is happening around, she used to tell me how messed up
the world is, today. Things changed slowly; she lost control over her memory, she
started hallucinating and could recall only things from past. But all that was
still fine with us because we, at home, were quite used to her absentmindedness
and were pretty much accustomed to her awkward behavior. In fact, at times,
when every other person in the family retaliated to her violent behavior (she
was really uncontrollable sometimes), I nonchalantly disregarded it. Things
have changed so much in the past few months. She is lying there, in the corner
of a room, just breathing. She is making an attempt to speak something but none
of us are able to make any sense of it. She is not recognizing any of us. Her
hands and legs have crumbled being in the same position; her motor functions
are reduced by more than 90%. She has bed sores over her back. She’s going
through an absolute realm of pain & suffering and she is not even able to
express it. Imagine how relentless it is that if a housefly sits on her nose,
she has to make peace with it instead of shooing it away!
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| With grandchildren, on her 90th birthday |
In the midst of it, a good number of my grandmother’s kin
are visiting my home out of purest form of reverence and compassion, for the
sweet and adorable lady that my granny was through her life. Majority of them
talk about how active she was during the prime of her life. One of my cousins
had nick named her “The Mask” because she was so swift that she used to get
coffee from the kitchen like a whirlwind.
Some are making desperate attempts to show that they also care by pretending
to sham and offer help. And of course there those one hundred percent pure
assholes too who are more interested in watching Kannada soaps than empathizing
with us for what happened. I don’t know if she can hear at all; because if she
really does, she would regret having met these people in her life for the rest
of her life. Very few are compassionate and offering every bit of help they
could, in monetary and sensitive terms, to extend her death and keep her alive.
We have hired a caretaker to look after her. A paramedic
comes home every week to assess her health. We are all doing our best to keep
her alive. But I think this is exactly what is making me very poignant. “Are we
extending the duration of her suffering by trying to keep her alive?” I tried
to discuss this with senior citizens of the family. Some quoted Gita and talked
about “karma” or “soul” and others gave reference to some gradation called “taaratamya”. I don’t have much insight
into these. I am trying to convince myself by thinking that what they say may
be true. The fact that they have seen more deaths and they don’t seem to get unbalanced
by this at all, really surprise me.
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| A few days before she was bedridden |
I’ve always seen people offering prayers for someone to get
well. We’ve always been taught to hope for other’s wellbeing. But here I am, standing,
praying to god to do exactly the opposite. I don’t know if I am responding more
emotionally than is justified or assessing too highly of the scenario; I’ve
been pondering over this for some time. The more I think, the more I realize
that death is the most complicated thing I’ve ever come across in my life so
far.
Every time when I am home, when I sit by her side, feeding
her food, when I look at her crumbled legs and hands, this question boggles my
brain: Should we continue to take good care of her which will only prolong her
suffering or should we stop being so conscientious and put an end to her
suffering early and be culpable and guilty for the rest of our lives? This,
trust me, is a million dollar question!
I’m badly trying to restore some sanity to my brain!
