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She is Dead

She is dead.            The phrase I had uttered without hesitation during my time as the resident doctor in Palliative Medicine were the same words I was trying to avoid saying. She, a middle-aged mother of one, on life-support a few wards away from where I stood, had ceased her struggle with  the virus . Sitting before me, occupying a bed each opposite each other were what was left of the woman’s nuclear family. Her son on one side and her husband on the other side of a Covid general ward. The situation where, amidst a global calamity, entire families were admitted to the hospital, where a Psychiatry resident was called upon to care for medically unwell patients, wearing a dehydrating space-suit seemed something out of a dystopian novel. But the terrible update I was privy to wrung me back to the pages of reality.        The nursing staff and I were in possession of the knowledge that the third member (first?) of this small family was no more. The husband eagerly pulled out an old di
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To Life. To Life. L'chaim.

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            Pit against the Almighty yet frequently mistaken for Him is Life. Life is praised beyond words by some and yet cursed with rich verbiage by others, a few intensely meant 'F this's and 'This is S's. Unless asked by a teacher or demanded by a PPT slide, why would anyone attempt to define life? Humans commonly claim to be merely looking for the meaning of life rather than its definition. What good would a definition do? What good would a technical interpretation of life do to the twenty-four-year-old man who was parched beyond description on his way home on the back of a truck? Life bestowed the man with the determination to work as a labourer a thousand kilometres from home and when a global catastrophe struck, life blessed him with a few thousand rupees that bought him standing space on a truck that would take him home. Life in its generosity positioned a friend next to him who refused to leave his friend alone when he was asked to leave the transport. His li
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Pick (The) One

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           Not everyone has it hard.      Life on earth made him susceptible to disease and diseased he was, bound to a bed. Life placed him in the company of friends of faith. Nature bestowed these friends with the strength to lift the man and his bed to the roof. Divine Will placed Divinity under that roof. All the man had to do was lay still. Choosing the wedding theme is the most difficult decisions for some (believe it or not) while for a few it is the choice between an expensive treatment escalation or certain death.  Not everyone has it hard.      Not everyone has it easy.      A woman hid in a toilet for ninety days trying to flee the machete destined to chop her. When she eventually emerged, she realised that though she had escaped death her family didn’t. After a conflict that claimed the lives of millions including their loved ones, they  hoped for liberation. But  little did they expect that it would come from the Reds. But it did. And after decades of op
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A Song For The Exodus Part-II

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“I have come closer to God. Family matters have not changed much…” came the message on Whatsapp. “I have gone farther away from God. Family matters have not changed much…” the reply went. Kommt, ihr Töchter, helft mir klagen! (Come, ye daughters, help me lament!)      Johann Sebastian Bach chose to start his masterpiece ‘St. Matthew Passion’ with this apt chorus. The passion narrative from the Gospel of St. Matthew set to music calls on the one who listens to it to gaze beyond this world to the One who is the source of the celestial music and the fountain of all that is good. The grief filled notes recall the day when the sweetheart of heaven was labelled a criminal.      It is said that if ‘Bach’s St. Matthew Passion’ exists, God exists.      This piece of music that is said to give us a foretaste of the beauty of heaven begins with a lament. This is not surprising though, considering the apparent oxymoron by which history chose to call that day- ‘Good Frid
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A Song For The Exodus Part- I

     Of all the incredible scenes in the epic-animation film ‘The Prince of Egypt’ the most remarkable scene for me is not the parting of the sea but what happens immediately after. For a few seconds everyone including Moses is shown dumbfounded. No dialogues, just open mouths. No movements, just some heavy breathing. No awesome score by Hans Zimmer, just the sound of the wind. When mere humans stand witness to the hand of the Creator, all that they can do is just look. Scripture and liturgy use one word for such moments.            Behold.           “Behold the lamb of God…” the priest proclaims. A very apt use of the word which, when uttered during mass, demands that all eyes on heaven and earth turn toward the altar. Whether one realises it or not, those few seconds that you look at Him are no different from the moment when the sea stood still. Could all the visions of the old and the new testaments put together even compare to looking Christ in the eye?            But alas!
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The Pilgrimage

The regime had just decreed a new law and as a result in almost every town and city that I came across there were long columns of frustrated people. One had no choice but to stand in the line. Many were not particularly fond of those in power or their methods. In fact they would be rather pleased if the rulers left their posts for good. But even thinking such thoughts could prove fatal so everyone simply complied and stood in the queue, even pregnant mothers.     It was a difficult time. Not just for the country but for the entire world.     It was ‘the fullness of time’.     The period in question was Anno Domini the year of the Lord and the country was Palestine, an outpost of the Roman Empire. Caesar Agustus's ‘Census of the World’ was underway.     I left my time-machine in the desert outside Jerusalem and set out to visit the Holy Family. After a change of robes and a neutral headgear I started my pilgrimage pretending to be a traveller from the east. I bought myself a c
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Man on a Cliff

    He made it.          It is a miracle that he did. Standing at the edge of a cliff expressionless but full of emotion is the obscure human. You may or may not know him. It could be the man you pray for or the woman you try to encourage. It could be the woman you detest because of her lack of faith or the man no one seems to understand. It could be your neighbour who you think simply needs to hope or your colleague who you reckon just has to believe. To openly generalise, it is a human who merely reached an inevitable milestone of human life. It could be you. No one is immune to life. That he came thus far is a miracle in the eyes of some but only a prelude to it for others.          Most don’t care.          He has travelled a long way. The memory of his journey is magnified by the depth of the valley inches away from him. He was not there by accident though the set up looks like it. Not just where he was but the entire journey to that point seemed to stem from one wrong move
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