G ot a call, saying that his hands and feet had turned cold, very cold. I rushed blindly out of the house, hailed an auto, hurried through the hospital stairs and silently entered the I.C.C.U ward. There, he was, lying peacefully, as if in slumber, the same way as he had since the last ten days, when Coma led him there. Never had I seen him so frail, so quiet, so very static. Moved his blanket a wee bit to touch his feet – they were ice-cold, his hands – ditto! The various monitors displaying his body Parameters showed that things were slowly getting out of hand. Dad – thanks for giving me these final private moments with you, to bid you Good-bye. I can never thank you enough for whatever you taught me in life, but ironically, these painful moments are the ones that I am going to value all thru out. You had seen me come to life, I am seeing you slipping out of life. After a couple of anxious hours, the hospital staff informed my brother and me that our dad passed away.
A few months back we were fighting for Mom's survival...had been in a frenzy of medical ins and outs. Had clung to every ray of hope that any specialist gave, lapped up all the possible suggestions made by the best in the Medical fraternity, only to make her life qualitatively and quantitatively better...an experience that I plan to pen down on some rainy day.But all that came to an abrupt stand still on the beautiful early dawn of 26th December 2011... She couldn't step into a fresh New Year which was just a few days away. T he days that followed had an array of relatives and friends dropping in and staying back, trying to ease out our pain. After all, losing both the parents in close duration is just so unfair! The condolences did help a lot, will always be grateful for those. One condolence that struck a chord, maybe forever, is from my bro-in-law, Vinit from Delhi, who just sat thru gazing at Mom's photo....took a paper and a pen, scribbled s