My aunt passed away two weeks back.
She was suffering from a nerve disorder and was paralyzed to the bed. Neither could she walk anymore nor could she talk without her face twitching and without her speech being slurred.
She was like this for as long as I can remember.
She couldn't eat properly or go to the washroom without someone taking her.
When we'd visit her and Dad would take her to the washroom when she wanted to pee, she'd start crying because she felt so ashamed that she was in such a state in front of her younger brother. But, Dad never cared about what she thought. Neither did Maa. Both of them were there for her till her last breath.
The paralysis had left her so weak that she was as good as a bag of bones.
She couldn't talk anymore too even though she kept trying and never gave up.
We pretended like we understood what she was trying to say even though we really didn't and somewhere she knew it too.
More often than not, tears flowed down her cheeks whenever she would see everyone else talking and moving around and smiling when she was bed-ridden, when she couldn't be a part of it.
It was like she was there and yet she wasn't.
Maa tells me she loved cooking and cooked really delicious 'alu posto'. And, that when I and my sister was small, she used to look after us, so that my Dad and her could go out. And, how she used to be so pretty.
I don't remember a thing, though. Nor can I relate to all the stories she tells me because for as long as I remember I've seen her like that, paralyzed and in a revolving chair.
When Dad called me up to tell me about her demise, I didn't know how to react.
I hung up after he told me, and went back to doing what I was doing.
I didn't pick up my his calls for two days. I had no clue what to say to them.
How was I supposed to feel?
Forget about crying, I haven't even thought about her in all these days.
I don't know what that says about me. I don't know if I'm becoming too insensitive or detached.
It's just that I wish I was there when all of this happened.
Maa and thamma ( my dad's mother) have fights like any other daughter in law and mother in law. There are times they can't stand each other. (Thamma lives with us)
But, the one thing they both have in common was that, they loved Pishimoni ( my aunt) and so did she. And, even though Thamma will never accept, I think she secretly loves Maa for that.
I also used to suspect Pishimoni ( aunt in Bengali) loved Dad more than my uncles. And, me and my sister more than my cousins because we were always there.
When she fell down from the bed, we were the first ones to be at the hospital to visit her.
When she got an appendix, we were there for her surgery.
Even when she took classes for speech therapy, Maaa made sure we were there for her.
Not only that, Maa would cook different types of food and feed her, isnpite of all the household work, inspite of having to look after me and my sister and Thamma. Inspite of that, she'd visit her everyday. Dad didn't leave any stone unturned too. He took her to all the best neuro surgeons in town and made it a point, that extensive checkup was done to her.
It's not that we were under the illusion that she'd get back to normal or get better, even though we celebrated every small thing, like her speech getting clearer or maybe her being able to get down the bed all by herself as people celebrated India winning over Pakistan.
It's just we'd never thought she'd die, so soon.
Whenever I go back home, to Calcutta, the first thing Maa makes me do is visit her. To see her, and to seek her blessings.
It has always been that way. Before any exam or any big decision we took, visiting 'Pishimoni was a tradition.
One day my sister refused to go visit Pishimoni on a Sunday because she wanted to go watch a movie with her friends. Maa, who usually gets angry at the smallest of things, made her sit down and actually explained to her how important family is, and how Pishimoni would've done the same too if anything like that ever happened to Dad and Maa.
After that every Sunday, my sister was the first one to get all ready to go visit her. Like others have family dinners and outings, this was ours.
The amount of pain she was going through, to see that even for 10 minutes was heartbreaking even for a heartless person like me. And, so when I went home for the summer for 2 months, I didn't go to see her even once.
Even after Maa scolded me everyday, I didn't. I kept giving excuses and postponing it.
I didn't want to see her while wanting to get away from there as soon as possible inside at the same time.
I decided I just couldn't see her in so much pain anymore.
And, now I'm going to regret that all my life.
