Pain. Excruciating pain. Red hot pain. At times I cant think of anything but this sudden intensive pain that comes out of nowhere. Things have not changed from the last time I was here. The improvement what so ever is very slow which is getting a bit frustrating at times. But then, I should be glad that there is any improvement at all. Parents are with me now, so thats one thing to be happy about. At the same time, seeing me suffer first hand is making their hearts wrench, I know. Exactly why I didnt want them with me, last month.
The reaction from S, who is usually my rock has shocked and surprised me to the core. We are talking about a guy who hardly goes to the temple or takes a minute atleast for prayer everyday (not any different from me). Seeing me suffer this pain has brought a change in him I least expected. He told me one day that he has prayed to have his hair tonsured at Tirupathi the next time we visit so that I should feel better. If this wasn’t shocking enough (for he never believed in such stuff), he has gone to Sabarimala now. It is definitely heart-warming but then I also know deep in my heart that it also means he has lost hope otherwise. Nevertheless, he keeps telling me I will feel better soon like every minute. I cant begin to explain the kind of things he does for me, without a wince. He is the epitome of patience.
Although there are times I still feel low, I am trying to keep myself positive as much as possible. At work, I have managed to knock off all the pending tasks. Whenever possible, I am trying to cook something new at home. Have been keeping my evenings busy with some reading – back to HP series. Following a regime of stretching exercises in the hope that they would work. Everyday on the way to office I am tracking my walking speed and time – to see if I am getting better. Its been giving me a bit of confidence, which is most required at present.
This morning when I woke up, I had this feeling that I should pick up my paints today. I was sternly objected by parents, given my condition. Sitting at a place for hours will do more harm now, I was told. I promised to take multiple breaks and to complete it fast. Reluctantly they agreed. Soon the table was spread with old rag clothes, paints, brushes, tissues and the canvas. Before I knew it, it was way past lunch time. At one end, amma was giving me deathly stares and dad took to the scolding. My painting was no where near complete. Amma fed me the lunch while I was still painting, with both hands smeared with paints. After almost five hours, I finished it. I was not completely satisfied with how it turned out to be, as always. While the parents reassured me that it looks good, I felt a different kind of satisfaction. After all that has happened in the couple of months, the very feeling that I could paint and then complete it too felt really good. May be this is the first step towards reclaiming my life back. May be it is all not that bad. For sure – Its not the end after all.
Here is what I painted –