Dad, May you RIP!!

I went inside the ICU and although I was briefed about his situation, I wasn't ready for what was laid in front of me. There was my dad in the state of drug-laden unconsciousness. His semi-bald head covered with hair longer than I had ever seen them. His always dyed hair was almost all-grey. His beard looked like someone had carelessly chopped them off. He was almost engulfed in a mess of wires and pipes. His arms had ballooned off and there were hardly any space without a prick mark. His chest was thumping in an unusual and artificial manner because of the ventilator pumping air in and out of his lungs. I called out "baba" a couple of times only to be met with the slow humming noise of the ventilator.

I then had a lengthy discussion with the doctor. Apparently, dad's both lungs had collapsed to such an extent that they were not able to breath in enough air, hence the ventilator. His blood pressure was very unstable. His kidneys were also affected and he was a known diabetic. His gall bladder stone and hernia were a trifle and didn't even figure in our discussion. The doctor informed me that we could keep him in the ventilator for months or take him home, the choice was ours. However, he also added that there hadn't been an iota of improvement in the past 2 days since he was in ICU.

I walked out dejected and we had a long session of discussion between myself, mom, sister, brother and some cousins. We came to an unanimous decision of taking him home. As we were making arrangements, there were also quite a few visitors coming to check him. One of those visitor came to us after visiting dad and casually informed us that dad's condition was okay and he recognized the visitor. Initially we brushed it aside thinking he was one of those exaggerating lots who would go on about how dad talked to them and all the bullshit.

However after a while, I decided to check back on dad myself one more time. So, I took my brother along with me and there he was with his eyes wide open staring at the ceiling above him. This time when I called out "baba", he turned his head towards us and instantly he had his eyes full of tears. He then tried to lift his head, open his mouth as if to say something. It had been almost 3 days that he had uttered his last words. He was struggling to raise his hand and pull out the ventilator's pipe off his mouth. I held his struggling hand, asked him to relax and told him everything would be fine now that I was there with him. He nodded his head meekly as if saying, "No son, nothing's gonna be fine."

The nurses butted in and roughly tried to pull his hands apart to tie them so that he wouldn't yank the pipes off. I was like, "WHAT THE FUCK!! No one's tying my dad's hands". I asked them to back off and also assured them that I wouldn't let dad struggle as I tried to calm him down. I couldn't hold back my tears anymore and I was sobbing uncontrollably. I then pulled brother out and sent mom and sister in as the fucking hospital didn't have any spare gowns.

After a while mom and sister came out wailing. It took me a while to control both of them and we agreed that we would not take him home that day. We returned back the next morning and was disappointed to find out that dad's condition had detiorated. Hence, we decided to take him home.

We drove back in an ambulance with us continuously pumping air using a portable ventilator. Upon reaching home the rituals of "gai daan" was completed. Dad got out of his consciousness sometime late in the evening and started struggling again. He was definitely responding to the different voices calling him 'baba', 'kaka', 'bhai', 'daju'. His teary-eyes searched for those voices while he struggled with the ventilator's pipe stuffed through his throat. When he replied with a positive nod to a question posed by my sister if he was feeling uncomfortable with the pipe and should we take it out, that was it for us. We couldn't see him suffer anymore. Once the pipe was replaced with an oxygen mask, he was calm and off to a sleep. He bade adieu to us at 11:50 pm on Monday evening, 15th of November '10 without uttering a word in 5 days. As a part of our traditions, we made his body sit cross legged with the back resting against the wall. As all of us were sobbing and trying to come to terms with the eternal truth, I knew it would be a long night ahead. The only thought striking my head was a few lines from "Kaalmahima", a poem by KabiShiromani Leknath Poudel:

भाका, भूल, दया, क्षमा र ममता, सन्तोष जान्दैन त्यो,
इन्द्रै बिन्ति गरुन् झुकेर पदमा त्यो बिन्ति मान्दैन त्यो,
थुप्रोमा उधिनी मिठो र नमिठो रोजेर छान्दैन त्यो,
खाता जाँची सबै दुरुस्त नबुझी बिर्सेर हान्दैन त्यो ।१।

राजा रङ्क सबै समान उसका वैषम्य गर्दैन त्यो,
आयो टप्प टिप्यो, लग्यो, मिति पुग्यो टारेर र्टर्दैन त्यो,
लाखौँ औषध अस्त्रशस्त्र महिमा देखेर र्डर्दैन त्यो,
व्याधातुल्य लुकेर चल्दछ सदा मारेर मर्दैन त्यो ।२।