I was 9 years old when he had his first stroke. He was angry at one of his students and then all of a sudden it happened and he collapsed in Ma's hands. She was desperately calling his name but he wont answer. Its funny how they would call it 'stroke' what takes just a stroke of a moment to change how you perceive life. Every day since then I would fear losing my father. And then it happened again when I was 12. He was the best and the most doting father one could have and yet he had his quirks - not as a parent but as a person and that's when we would argue and I would stop talking to him knowing that my silence would hurt him more. Ma would be the peacemaker and would tell me how uncertain we are of his staying with us and how he was the best father we could ever have. I would then apologize even if I knew I was not wrong because I didn't want to lose him and then the argument would continue some other day.
Med school and then U.S., I have been away from home since 1996. The moment he learnt that I couldn't get admission in a med school closer to home, it saddened him more than it saddened me. We all knew him - he couldn't stay away from both of us ( my sister and I). He was the kind who would start looking for us all over the town if we staid away from home a few minutes more than how long we had said it would take us to go somewhere. If we staid away from home too long at some relatives place, he would have sleepless nights and land up there the very next day. During all those years away from home, the fear of losing him had taken different shape - he was in his 70s and logically I knew if he didn't take care of himself the day would come someday soon but I didn't want it to happen in my absence. And now being a doctor, I lived the delusion of hemi-Godliness that almost every doctor lives with. We think we have the power to change things - pull out our dear ones from the claws of the reaper. But little do we know or want to know that there are ways in which God shows his presence - ways that are sometimes so distasteful that after he has shown his act, we hate to believe his presence and prowess while he shows us who the supreme power is.
October 2006, I had come back home after completion of my Masters for a vacation from U.S.. He was happier and looked healthier than he ever was. But there was the cough and the swollen leg. Knowing his history, something told me he was developing CHF - the cardiologist concurred. Just when things were looking up with everything this came all of a sudden like a bolt from the blue. We couldn't tell him of the condition because we knew how stressed he would get but he was smarter than we thought. A MBBS degree doesn't really guarantee that you are smarter than your father - does it? But I and my sister thought we were and so were trying to put up an act of 'oh everything is so hunky dory'. But he knew it - he always did. It was the Diwali night of October 2006, when I was about to check in for my flight at Ahmedabad. He asked me to give him a hug saying - 'Who knows if we will ever meet again'. I could have passed it off on a very light note had I not known of the circumstances and something told me that he was aware of something. Ma could see through my smile and tell what was going on in my mind - don't know how mothers do that. 'Why would you say something like that? Do you want him to leave everything and come back to India? If you don't, then take care of your health and stop saying something like that to him',she told him with a nudge. I gave him a tight bear hug - deep inside I didn't want to leave him from my arms and neither did he.
I could see all the fireworks from above Ahmedabad while the flight was taking off. Any other day it would fill my heart with glee to see such a beautiful scene - nothing like I had experienced before but that day was different. I knew something had gone wrong - something needs to be changed soon. As soon as I landed in my lab in U.S., I told my supervisor that I would be leaving soon and that I want to go back home to India. Not many were happy with that decision. People who cared would call me up or call for dinner or a ride and discuss it over and try to coax me to stay back but I knew where my priorities were. The day that I had been fearing all those years was looming so close to me. I knew I had to go back. I was applying for positions of all kind in India and yet I was being choosy on whether it would fit my skill set and qualification. Things were getting delayed and I was getting restless.
I used to talk with Ma and Bapi ( that's what my sister and I called him - a name concocted by my sister when she started mouthing words) through online messenger services every weekend and sometimes even more frequently. Ma had been telling that Bapi has developed Urinary tract infection and has decreased his diet. I would plead, coax and get mad at him for not having enough food. It went on for weeks and then one Sunday during a chat I said something that I knew had hurt him - I said, 'Your not eating is a slow poison for your heart, you might as well take poison and finish this off fast if this is what you plan to do'. I was mad at him for his attitude but I realized I might have said something that I shouldn't have. I hadn't spoken with him that day after that incident but I knew that I will be speaking with him on Wednesday so I had planned to apologize and try to make him have some food.
Wednesday was a long day at lab and by the end of it all I realized I had missed the opportunity of chatting with Bapi Ma. I thought I will give a call the next day but when Thursday came - my sick Indian mind thought why use up a card when I will be chatting on Saturday anyway. Why was that $5 so important for me that day? I don't know. I had made calls on unusual days and surprised them before. I never thought of the money spent at that time because I never was the kind who would put money over a relationship but it was just some sick thought that crossed my mind that day, the reason of whose appearance I could never decipher ... never after that day.
I staid online all day on my messenger on Saturday the 2nd of March, 2007. 'It's Holi tomorrow, I will make that call tomorrow anyway to wish Ma Bapi a Happy Holi but I will wait for them to come online today', I thought. The day passed and evening came - no one came online. I was on the net wishing some of my friends a Happy Holi - it was Holi in India already. Must have been around 6'o clock in the evening and I got a call from my sister - I was elated and a bit surprised too. What is she doing up this early? Was she up early and studying? She must have called to wish me - these were the thoughts that went through my mind. The moment I said hello I heard her say "Chandan" and then she started crying. My heart started sinking and then she dropped the bomb - "Take a flight and come back soon. Bapi's gone". Gone? Where to? was what I thought. Dumb as it may sound I did not want to believe that she meant "No more" as she used an expression in Oriya which could mean both.I said I will do that and called Ma immediately. She did not pick the phone, Sudeep did. I knew Sudeep, one of my closest friends from med school, was Ma and Bapi's point of contact for all healthcare needs in my and my sister's absence but what was he doing with Ma's phone? Why did he pick up the phone? I didn't want to talk to him - I wanted to talk to Ma and he understood. He gave it to Ma and she started with - "Dont worry about me. I am alright. You be strong and try to come as early as possible." I could feel the floor slipping underneath me. All I could blurt out was - "How did this happen? Why was I not told?" But all they could say was - "We did not know this would happen". There it was - the fear that I was living with all those years was right there in front of my face looking at me with a smirk.
The infection topped with the lack of diet caused an electrolyte imbalance which in turn possibly caused an arrhythmia and a cardiac death. Had it not been for the doctor's negligence by not treating an electrolyte imbalance case as an emergency ( a rule of thumb), he probably would have survived it like he had from all those strokes. But I wasn't there to tell anyone that. I wasn't there to give him one more hug - just one more. I wasn't there to say I am sorry for one last time - I shouldn't have said those words - I swear I didn't mean it. He was right when he always said when we quarreled,"You will remember what you say to me and cry when I am there no more". Yes, boys don't cry but I am because I miss him really bad and what hurts the most is that I will always be left thinking if I could turn back time and hug him and say sorry just one more time and he could wipe those tears rolling down my cheeks ...
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