Parashu Pradhan Unattended

When and how I happened to land at the Kathmandu Airport – I knew nothing of. I got conscious and unconscious by turns right since I boarded the plane at the New York airport. I turned my thoughts upon where I was, how I was and why I was flying to Nepal. But the string of the workings of my mind would come to an abrupt ending, and Mother's ailing, invalid face would unceasingly question me – 'Kanchhi Chhori, I wish you were at least able to see me last, but it's almost beyond hope

I used to keep my spirits up: I'll see the last looks of her; I'll see my mother a last chance, because I knew her face was at the last straw, at the last breath. The sinking face of my father still bobs up to my dreams and keeps on pleading – 'I remembered only you at my last hours, I dwelled only on you. I carried my thoughts only to you, my Kanchhi Chhori Sirjana'.

Soon I got a ticket and flew right off. I had made a solemn pledge not to repeat the sore history and fall in with the flame of a grave mistake and repentance thereafter. Only a sentence rang in me, 'Aama siriyas hunuhunchha, bewaris hunuhunchha.' (Mother is serious, she's not attended to.) Only two words from over the telephone struck me continually - 'serious' an English word and 'bewaris' a Nepali word.

 Among the many passengers in the plane I was all alone as a bird lost somewhere in a jungle. I had always felt some inexplicable inadequacy or emptiness within while I was in Kathmandu. And then I lived in London for a few years. But the shadows of inadequacy or emptiness kept on chasing me there too. Now I've moved to America, yet the shadow, I don't understand why, has not let go of me. I find I'm somewhere among the nonexistence, among the insufficiency, among the want.  

I reached the hospital. The stinking smell there suffocated me. I thought I had reached in some hell. Masking with a hanky I entered and went upstairs. The foul smell outside had reached every nook and cranny in the hospital rooms. All of a sudden I happened to spot Mother's face, and I was horrified- it was a mere framework of bones.

 'Aama! Darshan! I’m arrived!' I cried in a subdued franticness.

Hearing me, she opened her eyes.  They were dry. There was no water in them.

'How are you now, Aama?' I spoke again. Once more she opened her eyes and in blurred voice she said, 'Sirjana, you have arrived all the way from America to see me… I'm at my last time….'

'I'm at my last time…' I had a lump in the throat. Tears welled up. I felt as if I was squeezed into a horrifying tunnel.

'Aama, now I am arrived … I will take you to America and get treated… Aama! My Aama…! Surely I will.' I was thoroughly overwrought. I wished I could have howled and wailed frantically, shuddering the heavens; but in such circumstances the timely response wouldn't be that.

 Soon Eldest Brother popped up. He was shocked, 'Sirjana! You here?  It was just the day before yesterday we talked. There was no hint of your coming. How come you are here all of a sudden?'

 'She is my Aama as well as yours, Thuldai! She gave birth to you and she gave birth to me too! Here Aama's faring this terminal …  How could I help coming?' I bowed to him.

I don't know why I lamented within again.

'There was a fear of brain hemorrhage, but it didn't occur. Paralysis is in one side. The doctor has approved of discharge and treatment at home, but…'

 Doctor Sahib appeared and his 'but- ' couldn't continue. He cautioned, 'Haven't I told you to take your mother home? It's already been five days since I prepared the discharge sheet. What are you dawdling for?'

 The doctor performed a cursory inspection and stressed once again on the same old thing, 'I'm not seeing her any more. I've prescribed some medicines to take at home. Take a good care of her'.

 I observed Mother's face again. A setting sun she was. She was at her critical moments. Meanwhile I journeyed deep into the past, where Father too was. How fit pair and loving couple Mother and Father's was! They were the figures of some unspeakable envy of the neighbors. I, the youngest daughter Sirjana or Sirju, was the spoiled child of Mother, Father and everybody in the family. Whenever the household made preparation for festivals or celebrations, palavers were on what new garments should be readied for me. If a visitor dropped by, showers of honeyed phrases. They connected my beautiful luck to beautiful looks and I myself didn't see through all this stuff.  

And now Younger Brother showed up. He too was flabbergasted, ''Oh! You too could come?'

I made a deep bow.

The atmosphere in the room grew somber for a short while. Eldest Brother examined the younger one's expressions and made a lame attempt to open his lips, but they failed to yield to him. Likewise, Younger Brother studied my face and said, 'But you come without any hint? At least you could have phoned that you were ...........'

'I was in a wild rush, Sandai! How to arrive here at the earliest was my only end. I had a premonition I wouldn't be able to meet Aama for the last. But the stars were at my side. Now I could have her darshan at least.' I did my best to ease myself.

And then Eldest Sister-in-law turned up and we all were alert. My being there gave her a jolt.

 'Nani too here from America.....? Why no information? Er… It's almost a week since the doctor's said to take Aama home and nurse her. But we haven't been able to come to any conclusion.' I was speechless. I felt she was out to relate the whole history, she was going to report all the past in the same breath. She wouldn't stop. 'Now Nani too is here. Hope now the problem would clear up. Nani! I'm not in a position to take Aama home and continue the treatment. Both of us leave home for work at eight in the morning and are back only after seven in the evening. The children go to school. Who would take care of Aama all day long?' Sister-in- law poured her long tale of woe.

 Time came to a standstill. Mother's eyes opened, probably stung by Sister-in-law's words. They scrutinized each of us once from her bed. She scanned everything in the room and closed them. I transformed myself into her and journeyed far into the future- a moment like this will eventually befall me too. The character is the same; time, place and setting may vary. I cursed us all.  Before I could speak, Younger Brother opened his mouth- 'Whatever Bhauju says is the fact. I never suspect its truth. But mine too is not the state of affairs good enough to take Aama home. It's been years my wife's contracted uterine cancer and she's bedridden. I've not been able to render due attendance on her. What shall I do with one invalid and the other incurable?'

 'Can one say that after accepting Mother's pension property?' Eldest Brother stopped him. Meantime, a nurse entered. 'What are you discussing on? The boat may sink before the boatmen are able to arrive at some conclusion. Are you taking your mother home today or not?'  The nurse remarked. She measured the fever with a thermometer, asked to give Mother a capsule and left the room.

 'Shall I take Aama to America then? … My conscience told I was bound to speak. I knew that was the best thing I could say. I'd read in papers how the society was degenerating in a few years. In the deteriorated society where a man was taking his wife to Bombay and selling her there, a brother was forcing his sister to prostitution, I thought I forwarded an appropriate proposal. I was nearer the truth.

 Brothers' eyes met. I gathered they'd desired this very thing. I left the room to meet the doctor for further consultation. As a child that has learned his lesson by heart pours out in front of his teacher I begged, 'Doctor Sahib, I'd like to take Aama to America… What would you suggest….?'

The doctor was among a crowd. Patients and their relatives were thronging around. But he directed his eyes towards me, 'So you live in America, are you a Green-Card holder.....?'

'We've been living in America for years. I'm of the opinion that Aama's treatment might be better there than here. If only Doctor Sahib could permit….' I implored.

 Instead of caring about my request, he begged, 'I've not the least interest in working in this hospital. What's the use of remaining here? Could you please help me out to there?'

 I saw: not only Doctor Sahib here, but the whole nation, all people are pleading with me, begging of me.

 'Doctor Sahib, I'll do whatever I can! What's impossible if you wish! But for now, I'm serious about my mother…Doctor Sahib, what is your suggestion?' Again, I repeated my story.

'Such an elderly with brain hemorrhage. How can you take her all the way to America? Quite impossible! Take her home immediately and let her have a good rest. This is my suggestion.' Armed with the doctor's downright rejection, I returned to the bed only to find both the brothers impatient to escape the scene.

 'We are off, one must attend the office,' they excused themselves and walked out of the room. I was at my wit's end. I could not decide what I should speak or do. I was thoroughly nervous, to be honest. I couldn't well discern what was going on about me.

 'Aama, how are you?' I asked. Mother opened her lackluster eyes. She stared at me as if she couldn't recognize me. She must have felt she had arrived at some strange land.

 'Let me die… I don't want to live any more… It's enough.' I read these words in Mother's eyes. She pulled the saline water pipes, oxygen pipes and all quite wildly. I tried to restore them. There appeared the wrath of Death in her eyes. I shouted out to the nurse for help. But probably they were Mother's final moments. Her eyes were shutting for ever. But I kept on howling and wailing, 'Aama, Aama, my Aama…. My Aama…'