My legs were shaky when I stepped out from the Oncologists chamber. You might have just a few weeks to live, but the doctor’s nervous voice would have tormented any soul to death. The cold winter breeze failed to chill my numbness. The world around me absolutely ceased to exist. I don’t know for how long I had been standing on the pavement, tears tricking and soaking my pashmina and staring blanklessly, when I was brought to sense partly by an old woman, a beggar. She might have watched me for a good half an hour before deciding to speak to me. Covered in sweaters full of patches and holes, her dry wrinkled hands shaking, she offered me water from a disposable water bottle. I wiped my eyes to have a better look at her if I knew her. No, I didn’t. She was a complete stranger, who wanted to drive me out of my misery with her brave smile. Somehow, parts of me became alive because of her cold hand and at the same time equally warm touch, tenderness, and concern. I was now smiling too, sipping from her bottle. Though my brain, since it was busy with an altogether different program at that moment, was unable to decipher her words. But my eyes could feel her compassion. After some fifteen minutes, I decided to head towards my car and bade oodbye to the woman. Inside the car instead of focussing on my cancer the old furrowed face, hovered around. She did not even ask me for anything, a thought crossed my mind. From my rearview mirror, I could see them saving themselves from the bitter cold.
What use would be this expensive shawl or imported jacket, or premium gloves to me, a few days or weeks from now? I stepped out of my car and paced toward her. Her toothless smile greeted me once more. But what I did next lit her face. Covered in the warmest coat, shawl, and gloves, she said daughter you can keep this as the old hag might not survive past winters, referring to herself. That might be true for me too, I said to myself, half chokedI resorted to Death Cleaning to overcome my depression and pain, giving away all that did not fall in the category of comfort or necessity, whatever was extra, all the things I had in several copies, lying unused. It took me a week to give away all that was not required when the phone rang. I checked to find my Oncologists name flashing on the screen. With trembling hands, I picked up the phone. What he told me over the next few minutes, pushing my system into still more chaos. My report got mixed up with another terminally ill patient and I need not worry as my tumors were all benign. Yes, I was happy to find out that I had maybe many more years to live. At the same time, the price tag of all stuff I donated over the last few days was hovering in my head. It was effortless to part with so much just a few moments back and just now I am making mental calculations as to how much stuff I gave. That’s the human mind, its weaknesses, and its tendencies. But better sense prevailed and the next moment I consoled myself that this was the best decision ever. Why should stuff lie at my place instead of being used by someone needier? Especially the coming winters. So many people will be chilled to the bone due to lack of warmers while there are innumerable woolens which I will use just once or twice the season. Besides, I discovered the joy of giving and feeling light. I never felt happier while wearing all those expensive and exotic stuff, but the lighted faces of those who received it really were incomparable.
Lubna Kamal
