Death can't take hope away...

I was sitting on the cold shore combining the sand around me, looking for shells. Dusk was falling. It was windy and the mist coming off the waves felt cold against my body. I looked at the ambitious waves, rising from the restless water underneath, and reaching altitudes to engulf whatever comes in its way. A small boat was struggling to move through the angry waters for a long time. The sight forced me to nurse a hope that the boat would make its way safely from the clutches of waves. A gloomy picture of fear and helplessness flashed in my mind. It made me recall something that was long forgotten.

I was in grade 10 then. It was the first day after the summer vacations. Everyone in the class was buzzing with excitement to meet each other after two whole months of boredom and prolonged naps. I noticed a boy missing from our class of 50. Initially, I thought it was the usual case of being absent.

Days rolled by but he never returned. Then one day our class teacher announced that the boy was suffering from abdominal cancer and had been hospitalized.

The class stood aghast.

Memories started cluttering my mind and finally, formed the image of a handsome boy. His name was Robin. He was a quiet boy. He was not among my close friends but I admired him for his kind and gentle persona. He looked nice with his jet-black hair and chiseled features. I knew him as a person who always helped everyone in need with all he could. I remembered how I always used to tease him about a girl whom he had helped once. I realized that my eyes had become moist and hot tears were rolling down my cheeks. I looked around only to see faces similar to mine. I was feeling choked. I tried to scream but my vocal cords seemed to have been paralyzed.

We all made ‘Get Well Soon’ cards and handed them to the teacher who was going to visit him. I hoped the vibrant shades would bring some hues to his fading life.

Meanwhile, Robin kept on going for chemo treatments once every week. We all were happy to know that he was showing signs of recovery and had also started having fruits instead of the regular glucose and saline water. Our class teacher, who used to visit him frequently, would often say, “I have never seen a braver boy than Robin. He studies the notes I give him and says, “Ma’am I want to, and would surely sit for the boards this year with all my friends.””

One fine day, just before a month before our exams, ma’am told us that Robin’s kidneys had failed working and now he was on dialysis, along with the chemo treatment. This news brought an end to our fresh hopes of seeing him healthy and with us again. That day we all went to see him in the hospital.

I could not recognize him at first. The evil disease had stripped him of his beauty and had made him bald and weak. It was painful to see the fading flame in his clear black but dreamless eyes, his hollow smile agonized by the dread of death. We held our tears back with a tremendous effort and chatted with him. We cracked jokes and laughed, and saw him laughing. We played some verbal games and them bid him goodbye.

Later that month, we got occupied with the final revision of the whole course. In the meantime, Robin’s health kept on worsening. We heard that his family was also going through an acute financial crisis. Our teacher told us that his father, who used to be a strong man once, was getting frustrated day by day. He was constantly making efforts to make ends meet out of nowhere. I wished God would save the family from crumbling.

A couple of months passed and one day I heard the news of Robin’s death. I cried in despair for the loss of a good friend and a better person. But I also thanked God for relieving him from the terrible pain. Just a week after his death, I came to know that his father had died in a train accident. It was said that while traveling somewhere, he fell between 2 trains in motion. It seemed to me more as an act of suicide than an accident. Perhaps, the man had wanted to lose himself after losing his all, the last and undoubtedly the best being his son. After this, Robin’s mother went to live with her parents with her younger son.

This incident filled me with questions that troubled me for days. What had Robin done to deserve death? Why did his parents had to go through the incurable trauma of losing their child? Why is God so brute? I never found answers to these questions. But now I realize that the people, whom we love and care for, never die. They become immortal in our memories. I believe Robin is there, not in person but in presence. Death takes the physical life away but it can never erase the essence of living. Robin fought the battle of life and I feel he tasted triumph in his own way.

My thoughts got interrupted as cool, salty winds hit me. I looked at the small boat. It had fought to sail through the waves and was gliding along the sea that was now calm and defeated. I threw the shells that I had gathered, into the water, and started off for home.