Today my Jethima died after being in the hospital ICU For the better part of last month. She was a fighter , not the superheroes of comics and movies but a real life superhero. She worked throughout her life, fed her kid, fed her husband, went to office but never complained for a day. She killed her wishes so she could save for a rainy day and give her child the best possible education. She was a superhero to me because she hid me in her pallu whenever my dada scolded me. She fed me on her lap when I was angry or sad. She gifted me my first bicycle. She loved me more than maybe my mom at times. She bought me gifts and clothes without once thinking about the price and without worrying for her budget. She just needed a small nudge that what I like and she will make it for me no matter how old she became.
Oh yes she was a superhero, she fought against cancer and won the battle but it left her broken. She called me to run her errands instead of her son. My Jethu died just a year back and that seemed to have seeped the last bit of will in her to live anymore. I never wrote about my Jethu and today I feel guilty that he also was my superhero who never got my acknowledgment. These superheroes never had any relation of blood with me or our family. It was a relation forged out of love in the age where relations were for a lifetime and didn't depend on whatsapp or internet.
It was the year 1984 my mom a newly married girl came as a tenant in R K Puram in delhi in the house of Mr and Mrs Mazumder. The first question they asked "Do you want to live as a tenant or as our brother?" My dad said "As a brother" . And that started a lifelong journey of love and friendship . I was born and grew up in their arms. My mom was petrified of changing my nappies which my jethu jethima did. They took me out, bought me toys basically did whatever a caring parent would do. Jethima made wonderful 'payes' and pudding which i can never forget. When I was a small kid i was adamant on buying a bicycle which my dad at that time couldn't afford but they stepped right in bought me the best cycle then . When my dad or mom would scold me I would run to jethima or jrthu. My Jethu was a tough man who scared his son but when it came to me well...what to say he was the softest of souls. And in the last 2 years I lost them forever. THe people I have treasured my grandparents and now my jethu jethima all left me before they got to see what their Santu has been able to do, what he will do. I will never be able to go to them and tell them I am a doctor, all your love hasn't been wasted. I will get married but i will have such a big space left that all the festivities would seem hollow. I am an atheist but I have always believed them to have watched over me. At my loneliest of times I have had to look up and seen my grandma and grandpa smiling from above telling me Santu we are always with you. Jethima just joined the league and I hate myself that I wasn't there when she breathed her last. I feel so helpless that despite my education and all that jazz in biology i have never been able to help anyone I love That's my curse.
