LEFT FOR GOOD

Just another stressful day of a corporate life in Mumbai, desk piled up with files, ears filled up with commands, pocket filled with salary but zero credits. Intolerant Raghav couldn't maintain his temper while in a tiff with a senior.

The senior mocked -

"Go back to your village, help your father in the farm, engineer's job is not for you."

Without giving another thought, an egoistic Raghav slammed his resignation letter right on his face.

No, he did not begin searching for another job. All he did was to take a train straight back to his village.

His parents couldn't decide whether to be happy or sad, on one hand they meet their son after almost an year, but on the other hand, their son had lost his job, a good source of income to support his family back in the village.

Raghav's father did not complain in the beginning until it was more than a week Raghav did not return back to Mumbai, searching for a new job. Instead, all that long he would work in the farm. Not only during daytime but also at night, he would stay back in the store house.

Raghav father couldn't keep calm any longer he decided to interrogate Raghav one morning,

"What is wrong son, you have lost your job and you simply came back here and began working in the farm. Was this why I took a loan from the Sahukar to make you an engineer? After losing my leg to diabetes, I myself cannot work in the farm, how long would I support this house."

Raghav silently listened while his dad walked off frustrated.

This couldn't change Raghav routine, he still went to the farm day in and out. His father couldn't understand, what did he really do at night over there, refusing to go back to Mumbai, refusing to find another job. He found that the savings were also getting drained simultaneously. His father now began fearing survival.

His father woke up that Midnight to find Raghav again missing from his bed. His curiosity dragged him towards the store house, as he took his walker and began walking towards it. As the door opened, the work of his son who's all exposed.  Raghav sitting in a corner with something in cylindrical shape, around 1 and half feet tall, his toolbox, a hundred of wires around and sheets of Steel.

Fumbling, he began he knew he was answerable,
"Oh...umm.. that I was just working.. with something...umm."

Without even taking a look Raghav's father was about to erupt until Raghav flashed the result of his nights spent at the warehouse.

His father knew not, how to react, as his eyes welled up, all his anger began rolling down his cheeks through tears of apology, regret, pride. It was a prosthetic leg for his amputed leg.

"You struggled to make me stand on my own feet, this is my return gift baba, now, for you to stand on your feet. Enough of slavery in the corporate world. I'll rather find another way to earn a livelihood, somewhere,where I'll be respected, credited for my own work, that not only earns for me, some money but also work satisfaction."

Complying to his words, mortgaging a piece of his farmland, Raghav set up a business wherein he supplied prosthetics and machines on order at a 30% lower rate, accelerating sale and flourishing his business.

One, stupid sounding abrupt decision opened doors to a list of good results. He now stayed with his family, he now had no credit-seizer, he now felt to have really put his education to use towards he welfare of his people and most importantly, closing the books to corporate peer pressure, he now was awarded with job satisfaction.

NOT FROM THE MARVELS OR AVENGERS

I left from the movie theatre after the mega movie, Infinity War, wondering how amazing superheroes had Marvel and  Avengers gifted us. My friends were going insane, I too was. But not much, the fictitious heroes couldn't win my heart more than the real life hero I had right in my life.

An ugly night in 2012, the night that reinforced maturity in a 13 year old boy. Just when we were living the happy little family time, my mother shrunk, struggling to breathe. Mumma's little baby, I never unlocked her dupatta from my fist till her stretcher was finally inside the emergency room.
Some medical tests and jargons later, the two men of the house went weak on their knees.

"Cancer." The doctor said, "Brest cancer."
We did not know what was a house without a woman, and we did not wanted to know either.

"Its first stage, we can try." The doctor released a little hope. After all, if her favourite actress Mumtaz could fight over Breast cancer, she too can!

With the diseases trending everywhere, right from Manisha Koirala to Yuvraj Singh, our trips to top notch hospitals multiplied.

Dad picked me after school, when my classmates went to tution classes and then to play, I counted hours in different hospitals.A typical indian home-maker mother, who would believe, kept lunch ready everyday for me despite suffering from a fatal disease.

An appointment from the best known doctor for Brest cancer felt like victory, but he was only available after 3 months. Can Mumma sustain that long? Well she did, breaking our misconception about her superpower.

Days after days, doctors after doctors, our family had become such a familiar set of faces in the hospitals that even the receptionist was a family now.

It was demeaning, in a class full of 73 sympathizing classmates, none had even the titchiest idea of how ones eyes  wrecked at the sight of his own life-giver battling with life.

Nightmares of my mother leaving me wouldn't leave me. I missed tuitions for weeks but even though I attended, my brain was still in the hospital with mamma. Everything looked sinking. Where my academic grades fell, so did my mother's hair.

After about 22 chemotherapies, my mother had ofcourse lost on that womanly pride of long hair but did win on me, dad and the doctors with her unshakeable will. The ex-elementary school teacher, my mother had tought me the quote for life- 'Where there is will, there's a way.'

Like she smuggled a wig in her closet, and covered her chemotherapy-struck bald skull under a scarfs, we kept this suffering undercover from all our relatives for over a year. But well, the good part was, that we unwrapped this sorrowful history with brighter smiles, because, delight! She was recovering.

Now that she needn't see the doctor as frequently as before, mumma was back with updating herself with my status with studies.  All that happening during the crucial years of my 9th class, her once brilliant and ranker son now ranked from the lower end. Mumma saw a controversially low marks on my report card, I knew she was going to keep my nose to grindstone. I had to get myself ready to be trashed and beaten up by her.

But it wasn't the usual reaction like before to the situation, frightened, crying to her for Mercy. While she lectured me on the top of her voice, I only smiled back. Nope, it wasn't a shameless, unrepentant smile, it was a smile of satisfaction, the joy of getting  something really precious back in life. How I missed does taunts and punishment for more than 365 days, 52 weeks and 8760 hours.

With about a thousands of tablets by now, five years later, we went back to the hospital today to check if mother's body has finally cleansed of the cancer cell for the last time.

I giggled how when I came here for the first time, I was much timid for this chair in the doctor's cabin. After all a degree student now, I perfectly fit in height of the chair. How time had grew me not only in body but by mind, by nourishing my maturity with life scenarios.

I stared uninterrupted at the doctor who skimmed through all mumma's latest health reports.
"Cleared." He shone a smile.

Just disturbing our smile exchanging seesions, my phone rung-

"Bro, infinity war tomorrow, you in right?"

"Yeah, yeah ofcourse." I agreed.

"Bro, you know the spoiler confirms one big superheroes will die! Damn! It shouldn't be my favourite captain America. By the way, who is your favourite superhero? Avengers or Marvels?"

"A cancer survivor from the real world."
I concluded as I glared at my hero sitting in the chair right beside me. Fiercely hoisting the flag of victory over this super villain called Cancer, I now know, why they say- 'Not all superheroes come with a cape', because mine comes with a dupatta around her neck.