PILLOW STORIES SERIES:
‘PILLOW STORIES” is a beautiful concept at ThreeWaves that my colleague Asha suggested and I at once said yes, without a second thought. It doesn’t happen this way with us. Most of the time we have discussions when it comes to our work. We weigh the pros and cons, advantages and disadvantages, right/ wrong etc, whenever a suggestion is made by either of us. However this time the concept of ‘Pillow Stories’ is so appealing that I had no reason to even weigh the idea.
Each one of us has that untold story. We are giving this beautiful oppurtunity to one and all to bring out your stories which otherwise only your pillow knows. It may be written under your own name or under Anonymous name.
IF ONLY MY TEARS HAD COLOURS, I WONDER WHAT THE COLOUR OF MY PILLOW WOULD HAVE BEEN THAT NIGHT
This concept is so appealing that I want to take this opportunity to tell my own story.
All of a sudden my father fell sick and was admitted to a reputed hospital in the City. When the family member is sick we go to any extent of saving him. We also did the same, admitted him in a reputed hospital. The next day his condition worsened and he slipped into coma. Two days after that he breathed his last. All of this happened so suddenly that it all seemed like a flash. In matter of four days we lost him. Those four days were the most painful days for us and for me the last day was a nightmare.
28th Dec 1999, he was admitted to the hospital and 31 Dec 1999, he breathed his last. It was evening when he breathed his last. The elders in the family decided that the funeral would take place the next day in our village which is located around 100 km away from our city and till next morning our father would be kept in the hospital mortuary. It was also decided that my mother and siblings would be told about the demise only in the morning to avoid the pain and grief all through the night but decided that atleast one family member must be informed and found me stronger as compared to others and so informed me. I was told to maintain calm and not mention anything to anyone till next day morning and all other arrangements they would take care.
I really don’t know if their decision of informing me was right but my heart knows the pain and must thank my pillow for soaking all my tears quietly. None must have such an experience. My mind was racing in all directions and many many thoughts flooding my mind.
On one side he, the thoughts of my father. Our childhood and his role in my growing up years. His hardships, triumphs and tribulations. The fact that he was in the hospital mortuary, his final journey the next day and that he had embarked upon a journey never to return was all so painful.
On the otherside, my mother and siblings not knowing the hardest truth were praying very hard to every single God and were hoping that he would come back hale and healthy from the hospital. The lamp was continously lit in the prayer room for the last four days, not knowing the brightest light was blown off by the cruel blow of destiny already.
On another side, it was my relatives making arrangements for the final journey of my father. Amongst all of this I had to pretend to be normal and also had to prepare and make arrangements for all of us to travel for the village the next day and our stay there for the next 4 days.
I really don’t know if I was really strong as others perceived or I was bestowed with some unknown strength. I had series of things to do before everyone woke up the next morning.
I saw to it that my family members had their dinner early and went to sleep early. It was going to be a long day the next day. It would never be the same in that house after that day., so I wanted my mother and siblings to have a peaceful sleep for one last time thinking that our father was alive and would come back healthy. Sometimes, lies are beautiful. Also, I had to make arrangements on behalf of all. I quietly packed the clothes and other stuff for all, for the next 4 days for our stay in the village and tied all the loose ends at home as the house would also be locked till we returned.
Most difficult was the night to spend after I looked through everything. One of the longest nights I had to spend till date. Train of thoughts, unanswerable questions, future of my younger siblings who were all still studying, my father’s final journey, so on and on and on….tears were rolling down quietly one after the other as each painful thought came and went. Pillow was my great support on that long night. If only my tears had colours, I wonder what the colour of my pillow would have been that night…