An exercise in gratitude | Thanking those who have been ‘there’

Writing prompt | An acknowledgement to a “text” | A confession.

Thank you, Dipti Pande (inspired by Sherry McGuinn’s writing prompt) for tagging me in this exercise. I believe that we all have something to be grateful for. And it is important, once in a while, to talk about it.

BY a compunction brought on me by my fate and circumstances of my life, which do not seem to be so overbearing looking back, but still have played a significant role in shaping my attitude as melancholic, I am prone to hiding how really I am feeling after being on Medium for three odd weeks.

But I’ll still say that I am happy with the busyness it offers me. I have found a few genuine people. I feel a sense of gratitude to them. I read their stories, I mostly read long philosophical/political/historical stories though, along with skimming through short poems which act as breaks. I am prone to misjudging others’ poems unless they pull me towards them, because poems need contexts, and my contexts are not usually so great. Unless I feel like completing them, I don’t complete reading the poems, which I guess everyone does. So I read long stories, and I usually don’t leave my mark on them unless I am really in a mood. But I enjoy a lot, the kind of creativity there is in the stories here —

Medium is the exact opposite of the TV news channels and most of the social media that spew nothing but hatred and stupidity.

That’s pretty much about me. I do not try to go beyond the first two lines unless they pull me; and like most of what we write, most of what we read on open media like Medium does not “dazzle” us. And making it a kind of work — of religiously reading through literary pieces is not what I want to do; I feel it’s disrespectful to the person I am reading.

Though in time, there are a few who are slowly becoming the ones whose stories I look forward to, religiously.

I am a melancholic soul, who seeks a kind of relief from the mundane of the color the city of my world tends to offer. I would rather sit under a comely tree with a soft wind, then read through poems describing them. But when I am under that tree, I want to read poems.

I am one of those people who are misjudged on their first appearance in their community, simply because I look at the world in gray. I never appease, and I am extremely straightforward to the extent that people tend to consider me an egoist. Which is not the case. It’s just I am insecure and I take my time in opening up.

This quote defines me more or less (from “Leaf Storm” by Marquez):

Words, perhaps, are more important to me.

Perhaps that is why when Dipti Pande tagged me in a gratitude post, I felt myself to be very happy, though in my own quiet way. And at once I thought of the people for whom I am forever grateful for.

That’s why I decided to share the acknowledgement I wrote in my ever first novel which got published. I decided to pay my gratitude to the people who stayed with me in thick and thin, who in my time of need, when I was going through dialysis and transplant, helped me in all the ways they could.

Following is the acknowledgment to the novella, called UNDER THE CANOPY OF STARS, whose kindle version was recently published, and whose print version, God-willing, is expected to come after the corona-scare, and

which is bound to be forgotten like a whiff of snow before even it gets melted.

ACKNOWLEDGMENT

Let me begin with the truth. I am terminally ill. And like all terminally ill humans out there, I am dependent on others for my very survival.

This is a hard fact to digest, and some spend years even to come to terms with it. But there have been people, who have stood with me. Who have helped me come to terms with the truth earlier. And given me all the help they could. More than I deserved, sometimes…

I guess I should convey my thanks to them, rather than talk about what this book contains.

I WAS about to have my first biopsy at the age of eighteen when I was there… on a bed with white sheets in a room in a hospital. And he was there too… the first of the two people I wish to dedicate this small fantastical novella. He was my doctor, a tall well-built man of impeccable presence. And an extremely insightful physician.

I was trying to show otherwise, but I was really afraid. “How are you Tiger,” he said. And I said, “I am good.” Smiling.

Then “look here,” he said. In his commandeering iron voice with a soft tinge of care. I looked up from my supine position (I was lying on my belly).

He showed me his gloved hands, all ready for what had looked like an operation to me then. (Being a terminally ill person is nothing less than living an adventurous journey!) “These hands. They are rock solid. Unshakeable. Have done thousands of biopsies and never once faltered. Don’t worry.” I heard those words and calmed down, at once. Rock Solid: these words still ring in my ears. And I have always tried to be like him: rock solid. I have always tried to be like you Dr. Ranjith Nair sir. You have been an inspiration.

A role model to me.

Thank you for being there.

THE SECOND person is Kaustuv Prakash. KP sir I used to call him. Once we were standing on a second-floor corridor connecting two of the many buildings of Ravindra Bhawan. I was trying to come to terms with my new life, and he was just standing with me, looking at a distant moon. Suddenly he said, “What do you want Nachi. Tell me. What do you really want from life?”

I was perturbed. KP Sir was not the kind of person to be effusive. He was always calm and had a weird calming influence on others as well. He was the convener of a major National Event then, whose organizational team I was a part of, and he was the first person in my institute I had found to be ‘humane’, something I considered to be a far more important trait. “I want to be as calm as you are, KP sir. And I want to be more humane.” I said, in my mind.

Outside I said, “I want to play billiards and be able to have fun and live whatever is left of me.”

And he said, “Then do it. We are with you.” And as Time showed, he was speaking the truth. He was with me.

Thank you K P Sir. Thank you for being there. Thank you Ranjith Sir. Thank you for being there. Also thank you, my roommate, in the first institute I ended up studying, Tanay Rajpurohit. I hope one day…

That’s all I wish to say. For now. In addition to the pages I have inked, of course.

Nachi December 2019

I also wish to thank

1. Rana Premasish Roy
2. Abhinav Saxena
3. Vaibhav Tandon
4. Anirudh Vasdev
5. Harshit Gupta
6. Yuvraj Singh
7. Gazal Vats

and many others whose name I do not want to write simply for the sake of not making it kitsch — ian drama. I am writing these names because I fear death, honestly. Because I want to thank them in a better, bigger, and more direct way, if the life permits me. But with things like Corona around, anything can happen.

I know you are all doing great whatever you are doing. My blessings andthoughts will always be with you. Thank you. :)

Some day, after a month or two, I’ll also take an opportunity to thanks Medium members, though a few definitely come to my mind —

1. Gurpreet Dhariwal
2. Priyanka Srivastava
3. Somsubhra Banerjee
4. Dennett
5. Simran Kankas
6. Dipti Pande