I happened to write this quite sometime back, while thinking about a certain real life incident and the story of 'The Lady or the Tiger?', within a relatively short time period.

Warning: Potential Cliché

He could have died of happiness, of the sheer joy of seeing something so beautiful. She was tiny, covered in blood, screeching her lungs out…she was alive. His Kriti was alive.

It had been a usual Monday morning for Vivek, with a fresh lot of files piled up on his desk, the lingering smell of fresh coffee in the air and the hustle bustle in the office. He was in Mr. Sharma’s cabin, briefing him about the agendas for the week, when he got the call.

When he reached there, all he was asked to do was to sign on a piece of paper, a paper which simply said “I, Vivek Nath, am willing to have my wife, Anuradha Nath operated upon, knowing fully well that it might lead to both her and her baby’s death”. The doctor told him that normal birth procedure wouldn’t harm his wife but would suffocate the baby as the umbilical cord was wrapped around its neck, and the low hemoglobin levels of his wife implied a risky operation. It was his decision now. Vivek closed his eyes for five minutes, took a deep breath and penned down his name, for the life of his wife and his unborn child, and for his own. For three hours he sat with a baited breath, and when the doctor finally came out and told him the operation was successful, he all but danced with joy. And then was put into his arms, the little survivor, his Kriti.

Time flew as Kriti reached Senior Secondary school. Soon it was time for her to choose her career. A lot of thinking followed by even more reading and discussions led Kriti to declare on the dinner table one day that she wanted to be a doctor. It was something totally unexpected for her parents.

“Do you even know what a doctor’s life is like? How much he has to toil day and night? There are no fixed working hours, only complete dedication. Would you be able to do justice to your commitment?”

“Dad, I have lived all these 18 years of life just for myself, have enjoyed every moment of it, made the most of it by learning whatever I could, and by doing everything that makes me happy. Now I want to see the other end of the spectrum, find my happiness in others’, by helping them, giving them hope, saving their lives, and living for them. If I could bring a smile on someone’s face, gladden his heart, relieve him of one of his worries, what else could give me contentment so pure and complete, which nobody can take away from me.”

Words failed Anuradha and Vivek, just tears of delight and pride rolled down their cheeks.

Kriti was a dedicated doctor, completely in love with her work. Life was sailing smoothly for the Naths. One day, Anuradha called Kriti at work saying that Vivek had been suffering from chest pain since morning. Kriti asked her to bring him over to the hospital so that she could do his check up. She gave him some pain killers after doing the tests.

The test reports came the next day and the CT Scan showed a slight tumor in the chest area. Kriti got a little worried and immediately contacted the cancer specialist at her hospital, Mr. Saxena, for consultation. She was thinking about applying for a short leave for her father’s chemotherapy and taking care of him when Mr. Saxena broke her stream of thoughts.

The drive back home had never been so long. All through the way, Mr. Saxena’s voice was echoing in her head, “It is an advanced case of Mesothelioma, the tumor is multiplying rapidly. Radiation won’t help. I will consult higher specialists about this but chances of survival are very low. I wouldn’t have told the facts so clearly in another case, but you are a doctor too, so I thought I should tell you.”

She didn’t tell anyone at home about this conversation. She tried to convince her parents that the tumor was small and that she would soon fix up an appointment for surgery with the visiting specialist from U.S.A. after which Vivek would be absolutely fine. But they knew her better, they knew she had already contacted everybody possible in a short time, and there was no cure. Vivek’s health worsened rapidly in the next few days and soon he surviving was on sedatives.

It was the same story everyday. She would give him two full doses of morphine hoping that it’ll at least rid him of the pain; that was the best she could do for him. Once, he motioned to her pointing towards his neck with difficulty. As she poured a drop of water down his throat, she could see the monstrous web that had infested every part of his body. His eyes started watering as his body twitched with pain. Ironical, how a drop of water could torment someone so much, how every cry of pain could cause more pain.

She had become numb with grief, for the tears wouldn’t come, just a constant feeling of emptiness. Every single day of curing innumerable people seemed futile now. Sitting next to her drugged father who was still moaning in pain, she felt helpless. She had contacted every possible person in the world concerned with cancer treatment but it was always the same answer, the one which pierced through her every time she heard it, “its too advanced a stage for a cure, or even temporary relief; we are sorry but we can’t do anything, the cancer has spread right from the throat to the pelvis…” She had failed, all she was left to do was to wait, for death to come and wrap its welcoming arms around her father as pain tested every inch of his body.

Vivek’s situation degraded as days passed, while only one dilemma plagued Kriti’s mind. There would be times when she would suffer self ignominy for even considering the option. On the other hand, that seemed to be the only alternative to end his misery. What was the point of living just for the sake of existing, for undergoing torture every single moment, and paying the price of every breath with more suffering. But how could she bring herself to do something so drastic. It was not her job to decide people’s fate, even her own father’s. One day, when she couldn’t bear to be alone with her thoughts any longer, she went and sat next to her father. He fluttered his eyes open with much effort and looked at her. Kriti just stared back at him, and he knew what she was thinking. She took his hand in hers, seeking support from her dying father. All he did was nod once and continue looking at his daughter.

‘I can’t do this, I can’t commit this crime.’

‘My child, giving your own father freedom is not a crime. You’ll just be doing what you should, liberating a restless soul caged in a useless mass. I’ve always had love for life, but none for mere existence.’

It was her decision now.

He was sleeping when she left the room.