Maa's little miracles!

                                            

I never believed in miracles. Not even as a child. But if there’s something I have learnt from the last few years, it is believing in miracles. And I have one person to thank. Maa. When she was diagnosed with brain cancer in July 2013, she made me believe in miracles, and that helped me get through the Time. Today, on my way to college, I suddenly realize how much I miss the bits and pieces of those moments of miracle. Maa being cured of the big C was never something I prayed for to happen in the form a miracle. In fact, I couldn’t make myself to pray, I still can’t. I’m jealous of those who can do it so effortlessly. 

 

In those almost two years that Maa was a “certified” cancer patient, miracles made up my days. Hearing the much awaited “Operation Successful” from the surgeons after waiting outside the OT for long hours, was a miracle. Walking up the nursing home stairs, through the corridor that smelled all medicine, opening the door to see Maa up and smiling, was a miracle. Knowing that the tumor hasn’t grown and that Maa will have a day more to live, was a miracle. Seeing my parents sitting together in the nursing home cabin, Baba telling stories of years back, and Maa listening attentively, the un-explainable satisfaction that it brought,was a miracle. Hearing just a hint of sound from Maa who had lost the ability to speak, was a miracle. Maa trying to take a step after months of paralysis, was a miracle. Being able to be by her side till the last moment, was a miracle. Believing she saw me when she opened her eyes for one last time, was a miracle. In the middle of a crowded local train today, I missed those miracles. I missed feeling ecstatic with joy. I missed feeling the pleasure of telling these to my friends and family. But what I missed the most is the immense amount of content I myself felt from them. Those miracles made me. They still continue to.