First thing I must say is that, she is a demanding child.
A Really demanding child.
I don't blame her.
Second relapse of Leukemia.
There is just a 50% match for the transplant.
She has spent too much time in Hospital beds to have any amount of patience whatsoever.
She is merely 6 years old.
Loss of hair due to Chemotherapy has made her bald.
She talks like she owns the World.
She dominates over the nurses like they are her minions.
Her Mother and Uncle have quite naturally given into her demands.
She fell sick at such a age, when she hadn't even started writing properly.
So she isn't even adept at holding the pencil the right way.
So she isn't particularly fond of drawing or coloring. Simply because she can't maintain straight lines.
But she loves glitter. She loves sparkly things.
And she loves watching me do craft in the Playroom.
A late riser, I have to go get her out of her Ward bed everyday to go have a bath and finish her breakfast.
She listens to me (somewhat) because she finds me equal to her age.
I dont force her to have her juice or eat her egg. I don't her the 'this is going to give you strength' talk.
She has heard enough of that.
I Dare her to drink her juice and eat her egg. And the kind of person she is, she won't pass on a dare.
You hit at her ego and she'll rise to the occasion.
And That creates the difference.
She is aware that she is sick. Doesn't know the extent to which she isn't well.
She is from a neighbouring country and speaks the same language. Simply a different dialect.
She talks about her home and going back to her elder sister and family.
She talks about getting cured and going back to school (she hasn't been to school for the last 3 years).
Sitting in the Playroom one day, she turns around, puts on a serious face and asks me, "Do you want to know a secret?"
I leave my work, and turn to face her. Looking excited I answer, "Yes please!"
"But you have to Promise not to tell anyone! Its a Secret. Between You and Me."
"I Promise," I tell her.
She gets up from her chair and walks towards me and whispers in my ear, "I have a boyfriend."
"A boyfriend?!" I ask genuinely surprised. (She is 6 years old, remember?)
"Yes! Didnt you hear what I said?"
"Oh yes! Sorry. A boyfriend," I repeat after her.
She looks at me, probing me to ask her more questions.
I oblige. "What is his name?" I ask.
"Prince. Prince Charles," she replies.
"Oh wow! Really? So. You like him?"
"Yea. I think," she says rolling her eyes and continues, "but he isn't the problem."
"What do you mean?" I ask curiously.
"Well. There is this other guy. William. He likes me too. But him - him I don't like," she sighs.
"Oh!" I exclaim.
She turns around without saying one more word and goes back to finishing her puzzle.
And I know better not to question.
Few minutes later, she turns around again and tells me, "I'm willing to tell you a secret that Nobody knows of. You have to Promise to keep this simply between us."
Really curious to know what This secret might turn out to be, I Promise her my word.
She plays with her dress and looks at me with a big grin and confesses, "Actually, I am a Fashion Designer. And not many people know that."
Very seriously I ask, "And why don't people know? Its a great thing!"
She sighs and explains, "'Coz if I did all the people, they would be rushing to me for a design or an autograph. And with this Hospital business and me not being well, honestly I don't have the time."
I nodded in full agreement. She smiled.
"So, who do you design clothes for?" I asked her.
Her answer left me speechless.
"For the street dogs back home," she replied.
Her secrets left me wondering about the beauty of our mind.
The way it works and fights.
The way it helps create a separate world for each one of us in a manner that we want to manage our daily struggles.
Should I call it escapism?
But for a 6 year old girl fighting Cancer, if escaping into her fantasy world helps, so be it.
Atleast through this parallel world, her smile helps to bring a Ray of Hope to her friends and family back home and her new Family in the Playroom.
A Really demanding child.
I don't blame her.
Second relapse of Leukemia.
There is just a 50% match for the transplant.
She has spent too much time in Hospital beds to have any amount of patience whatsoever.
She is merely 6 years old.
Loss of hair due to Chemotherapy has made her bald.
She talks like she owns the World.
She dominates over the nurses like they are her minions.
Her Mother and Uncle have quite naturally given into her demands.
She fell sick at such a age, when she hadn't even started writing properly.
So she isn't even adept at holding the pencil the right way.
So she isn't particularly fond of drawing or coloring. Simply because she can't maintain straight lines.
But she loves glitter. She loves sparkly things.
And she loves watching me do craft in the Playroom.
A late riser, I have to go get her out of her Ward bed everyday to go have a bath and finish her breakfast.
She listens to me (somewhat) because she finds me equal to her age.
I dont force her to have her juice or eat her egg. I don't her the 'this is going to give you strength' talk.
She has heard enough of that.
I Dare her to drink her juice and eat her egg. And the kind of person she is, she won't pass on a dare.
You hit at her ego and she'll rise to the occasion.
And That creates the difference.
She is aware that she is sick. Doesn't know the extent to which she isn't well.
She is from a neighbouring country and speaks the same language. Simply a different dialect.
She talks about her home and going back to her elder sister and family.
She talks about getting cured and going back to school (she hasn't been to school for the last 3 years).
Sitting in the Playroom one day, she turns around, puts on a serious face and asks me, "Do you want to know a secret?"
I leave my work, and turn to face her. Looking excited I answer, "Yes please!"
"But you have to Promise not to tell anyone! Its a Secret. Between You and Me."
"I Promise," I tell her.
She gets up from her chair and walks towards me and whispers in my ear, "I have a boyfriend."
"A boyfriend?!" I ask genuinely surprised. (She is 6 years old, remember?)
"Yes! Didnt you hear what I said?"
"Oh yes! Sorry. A boyfriend," I repeat after her.
She looks at me, probing me to ask her more questions.
I oblige. "What is his name?" I ask.
"Prince. Prince Charles," she replies.
"Oh wow! Really? So. You like him?"
"Yea. I think," she says rolling her eyes and continues, "but he isn't the problem."
"What do you mean?" I ask curiously.
"Well. There is this other guy. William. He likes me too. But him - him I don't like," she sighs.
"Oh!" I exclaim.
She turns around without saying one more word and goes back to finishing her puzzle.
And I know better not to question.
Few minutes later, she turns around again and tells me, "I'm willing to tell you a secret that Nobody knows of. You have to Promise to keep this simply between us."
Really curious to know what This secret might turn out to be, I Promise her my word.
She plays with her dress and looks at me with a big grin and confesses, "Actually, I am a Fashion Designer. And not many people know that."
Very seriously I ask, "And why don't people know? Its a great thing!"
She sighs and explains, "'Coz if I did all the people, they would be rushing to me for a design or an autograph. And with this Hospital business and me not being well, honestly I don't have the time."
I nodded in full agreement. She smiled.
"So, who do you design clothes for?" I asked her.
Her answer left me speechless.
"For the street dogs back home," she replied.
Her secrets left me wondering about the beauty of our mind.
The way it works and fights.
The way it helps create a separate world for each one of us in a manner that we want to manage our daily struggles.
Should I call it escapism?
But for a 6 year old girl fighting Cancer, if escaping into her fantasy world helps, so be it.
Atleast through this parallel world, her smile helps to bring a Ray of Hope to her friends and family back home and her new Family in the Playroom.
No comments:
Post a Comment