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Purva Shree

Tragedy Inspirational


4.5  

Purva Shree

Tragedy Inspirational


Not A Colorful Fall

Not A Colorful Fall

4 mins 18 4 mins 18

Today, I read a wonderful line that meant something like this: No matter how much someone can love you, care for you or support your story, they will never really understand what goes on with you unless they have walked a mile in your shoes. And, this is not possible. We are born with our own size and each shoe is unique. That also implies that at the end of that day, we are left with just ourselves. It is to us to honor our story and remind ourselves each day that we can get better at anything thrown at us by life. This drive is what keeps us going till we reach our end of life. At least, on that day, we can finally resign as someone we can be proud of. I suppose this tiny satisfaction of not giving up ever is something we will be allowed to take with us till the end of time.

 This life that we are talking about, is just an infinite cycle of seasons in a loop. The only thing that matters is how we survive each season of life in the best way possible. Now that I think of it, it's funny, how important seasons were during my Cancer diagnosis. Like the crisp winter, I tackled the chills of my biopsy report in the month of December. Quite literally at the Mumbai Hospital. 

I don’t remember how long the winter lasted that year. My surgery was scheduled in the next two to three months. I eagerly waited for the onset of the Spring. My favorite time of the year always brought happiness and joy. Spring usually signifies new growth. Also, it also teaches us to let go. Every Spring until that one, I remained busy admiring how beautifully Nature decked up herself. But, I failed to notice how difficult it must have been for the trees to shed off their leaves entirely. With the surgery date ringing in close, I too experienced the pain of “letting go”. 


The side effects of my first chemotherapy kicked in. The days which followed weren't easy at all. Everywhere I went, strands of hair left their mark. From basins to floors to bedsheets- every single place had my hair. I didn't care about being bald. But, I was bothered by the slow transition which was actually horrifying. If by mistake I combed or ran my fingers over my scalp, fistfuls of hair came out in bulk. Every morning, I used to wake up with a bunch of those strands scattered over the pillow covers. Gradually, I became so frustrated that I decided to end it for once and all. One day, when dad was at work, I called in our local barber from a salon shop. Though he knew me for very long, he was unfamiliar with my condition. My mother tackled him tactfully and asked him to cut my hair. All of it at a single go. He was totally unprepared for this, mentally. As soon as he started chopping my hair, he freaked out within minutes of it. No sooner would he run his scissors than my hair fell off uncontrollably beyond his anticipation. He panicked seeing me like that. But mom put up a brave face and motioned him to continue anyway. Tears rolled down my cheeks with each stroke of the razor. I felt like losing control over my life. I wish I could roll back in time. But the hair fall knew no bounds. I had to let it go. For good. I kept my face down all the time so that none could sense what I was going through. Otherwise, everyone around me would become weak and nervous even more. After the barber guy was done with his job, I nervously raised my palm. My hairy scalp was smooth and bare. I felt nothing with my fingers. At that time, I wished I could look straight into Life and challenge it to “Bring It” on; only if Life would be another person! That day, a new Purva was born- the one who had finally mastered the art of Letting Go. Later in the evening, when Dad came in, I opened the door. He was taken aback by whom he saw standing in front of him. Within seconds, he hid his emotions and gave me a big smile.

 “See, Purva! Finally no worries regarding daily hair fall. You will see, all your hair will grow back soon before you will ever know it.”

 I knew that wasn’t as easy and smooth as he sounded. Emotions took a backseat in the stage play. We both smiled at each other. Deep inside I knew how tough it was for him seeing me like that. But he never expressed it. Like father, like Daughter. Resilience was in our blood after all. 


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