Honey is dead. He was the liveliest, most active, critical, and outspoken kid I have ever known. He had brain tumor. The doctors in India claim to have made almost as much advancement as thier peers in the West. But such claims were belied in Honey's case. They didn't even know he had cancer until almost his death, though they had operated on him more than once. However this is not about the remissness of the doctors, but about a very unfortunate family.
Honey's hapless family consists of father, mother, two sisters and one brother. The mother was diagnosed with brain tumor nearly three years ago. She was given six to nine months to live, but she lingers on bed-ridden, her limbs are immovable, voice is unintelligible, and mind wanders. The daughters are her nurses. The harassed father was posted a day's train journey away from home. The government deepartment he is employed with didn't transfer him to his home station even after repeated applications. And when they finally did, it was not good enough. It still involves an hour's travel. If this was not enough, the employer refuses to reimburse the medical bills amounting to lakhs, precipitating a financial crunch. The brother roams around house or on the streets like a lost soul, knowing yet uncomprehending the predicament his family is in. He fails in his exams. The eldest sister, an introvert by nature, when not crying or attending to the needs of her mother, sits silently most of the time. The family fears for her mental health. She had dreams of enjoying college life, but they have remained just dreams. The younger sister is the pillar of strength for the whole family. A more mature eighteen year old I have never seen. Though she has no reason to smile, she brings a smile to everyone else's face and gives courage to her father to live through these trying days. She never speaks of her own life and goals. The present aim is just to get through one day at a time. Each one of them knows that the mother won't survive, yet they all pray for the miracle. She is acceptable even in the almost vegetative state that she is in.
Why is man so powerless in the hands of the unknown? What can this be called? Fate? Destiny? Adverse circumstances? Wrongs done coming back to haunt the present? Or simply Life? I don't know. But whatever it is called, it is scary. And a reminder of the helplessness and littleness of man. Whatever the man may think about his mastery over his life, the fact is that he cannot do anything to change his lot. But he can never give up trying to better his life. This is the example this resolute family sets for us mere mortals by their struggle against perpetual troubles. I salute their undefatigable spirit.
