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A Will To Survive...And Thrive { Anita Jaswal }
W
ho wants to die – everything struggles and desires to live? Look at that tree, growing up there out of that grating. It gets no sun, and water only when it rains. It’s growing out of sour earth. But it’s strong, because its hard struggle to live is making it so. Shortly after their marriage, Prakruti and Navin moved to Dubai in November 2009. Prakruti had worked in Canada for about 10 years earlier. In Dubai, Prakruti was diagnosed with Hodgkins Lymphoma, a cancer originating from white blood cells called lymphocytes. “We elected to move back to India for my treatment of chemotherapy and radiation therapy; and upon successful treatment I am glad to be able to lead a normal life now. My parents and husband were extremely supportive throughout the challenging times; they kept my spirits high at all times. Even with all the pain and suffering I was going through, I never felt alone, and never lost hope. The most important thing is to believe in yourself....to find strength each and every day, to take you to the next day. There is light at the end of the tunnel...you have just got to believe. Cancer tried to knock me down, but my determination to fight... to win... was non-negotiable. Hope and love and the grit were my ammunition to fight this war. People call me brave, but I don’t use that word to describe myself. I just wanted to see a lifetime of sunrises and sunsets and seasons with Navin! As soon as the treatment was complete, Prakruti was ready to begin a new life. She was tired of seeing those blank hospital walls, and wanted to fill some colour into her life – and hence came up
with the concept of Shibori, a brand she and her husband started in August 2010. “We started with digital-printed home furnishings, and were one of the first in India with this idea. We currently supply to Evok Home Furnishings and @ Home stores across the country, in addition to many e-retail outlets. We have also introduced women’s wear. Settled in Gurgaon in BPTP Freedom Park Life, Prakruti manages her business along with Navin, who is also the Press Officer for Ferrari and Maserati India. They were blessed with a PRAKHAR pandey baby boy earlier this year. How does one survive cancer? We need to decide on the day of (cancer) diagnosis, whether we are going to be a victim or a survivor. We should decide how we will handle each day. While there will be good days and bad days, it’s our attitude that determines all days! After surviving cancer, you realise life can be short; you come to know who your true friends and family are. Knowing that life can be very fragile, we should make the best of it while we can. There is nothing in life we should take for granted. We know which battles we can fight, and which ones we don’t need to. We know the difference between important and irrelevant. We know that every second we waste, is a second we’ll never get back. We know the difference between romance and real love. We know that one day we won’t be here– and that we are lucky to be here now! u
The Last Ride
N
S ocial
19-25 April 2013
ormally Mahmood does not ring the doorbell of the house, when he reports for duty. He has been driving a taxi for almost two decades, on the roads of Delhi. He knows all the places, and all the roads; he also knows the behaviour of different people, whom he has been ferrying for years. But today was different. He had received a phone call from an old person; he could make out from the voice – it was sort of shaky and broken. That was also why Mahmood decided to go up to the front door and ring the bell. After a few minutes he heard a sound, as if someone was dragging something heavy. He waited patiently. The door opened, and a very old man appeared. He looked weak, and was having difficulty in pulling a bag. Mahmood immediately moved forward and offered to lift it. Once the passenger was settled inside the taxi, Mahmood asked for the destination. The old man looked at Mahmood for a long time, and then with a sigh said, “ Take me to Nirmal Chhaya at Mehrauli”. Mahmood knew that it was an old age home, where the residents were mostly those who had nobody to look after them. The old man was silent and thoughtful for a while... and then made a quiet request. He said, “Dear friend, I will be grateful if you could first take me through all the main roads of the City, and then drop me at Nirmal Chhaya. I hope I am not bothering you too
much.” Mahmood was amazed. He could not muster the courage to ask the old man the reason for such an unusual request; but soon curiosity got the better of him. “ Sir, why do you wish to do this?” he asked. The old man coughed a little, cleared his throat, and said in an inspired voice, “ I would like to go around and see all those places where I spent my time-from childhood onwards-before I settle down at Nirmal Chhaya”. As they drove through the City, the old man became very excited, and kept commenting: “ See that ground - that is where I used to play football with my friends; look at that tree around the corner - that is where my friends and I used to sit and chat for hours; just go slow here - that is the restaurant where I met Neelam for the first time. I can’t forget any of this”( Neelam was his wife who had passed away a few year ago). They finally reached the destination. The old man now looked happier, contented and full of energy. He even tried to lift the big bag from the dickey! He asked Mahmood for the fare – he knew they had travelled quite a distance, and that the bill would be substantial. Mahmood moved forward, hugged the old man, and with tears clouding his eyes said, “ No Sir, you have to pay me nothing. Your ride today is on me. I pay you my respect, and wish you all the best for the future”. u Ramakant Gupta
Goodness Goddess She! She is Janani, She is Maitreyi, She is Saraswati, She is Kamalakshi. She is the mother, She is the wife, She is the daughter for all her life. She loves, she cajoles She cries, she scolds; To keep her family together, She gives up herself whole. Yet she is ogled at, beaten and raped, Very often left alone to tide over her fate; All she asks is a little respect, To treat her like a human and not an object. The hand that rocks the cradle,can create havoc too, The Amba in us can become a Durga too. Priyanka Ailahwadi
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