It Happened On One Monsoon

26: A Night at The Ward

[ Darshan's POV ]

"Where can I meet Doctor Kaur?", I question at the reception. "Cabin 403", the short-haired lady points in the direction and I smile at her gratefully for a moment, before marching towards the end of the long corridor.

I promised myself that I wouldn't interfere in Kavya's treatment, but after hours of scanning through medical articles, I couldn't help but talk to the doctor, seeking for the slightest ray of hope she could show us. I'm not going to let Kavya go without putting up a fight against what's swallowing her up.

"Is this the end for Kavya?", I question and Doctor Kaur takes a sharp breath in, nodding her head in agreement.

"I read about clinical trials. Aren't there any existing drug trials for lung cancer?", I raise the next question and she smiles, turning away from her PC and faces me.

"There are uncountable cancer trials going on. The Internet doesn't cover even half of them, you know. But there's nothing for an end-stage cancer at the moment", she informs. "The ones you probably read about are aimed at improving the quality of a patient's life. She's doing okay, so she doesn't need them. And if you were with her when she underwent chemotherapy, you would know why she doesn't want to take the treatment any further. It tore her apart", the doctor tells me. "Just know that if there was anything at all we could have done to save her, we would have".

"But there are patients who have survived end-stage diseases, right?", I interrogate. "Of course! There are patients whom I thought wouldn't live longer than two years, but they went on to live for ten years. That's entirely God's part to play. But we're not God, and I'm sorry but from our end - there's nothing we can do", she sounds apologetic.

A long moment of unbroken silence echoes in the cold cabin, as the bitter truth digs into my skin. Beyond my control, tears crawl up my eyes and rests on its waterline.

"I'll tell you one thing I've seen from years of working in this ward---", she breaks the ice. "---I've told this to Kavya, and now - let me tell you: one mistake most patients and their families do is live in denial for the longest of time. Life is unfair at times, and honestly, what can we do about it? Sometimes it's destiny, and the longer you fight against it, the more time you end up losing, because you're fighting against something you cannot change. See, for people like Kavya - how long she has lived doesn't matter, but how she lives in the time she has is what counts. A short life full of joy and memories is far better than living a life with nothing", Dr. Kaur advises me and I simply listen to her, hanging my head low.

"It's not too late to change things for her. Take her out, fulfill every little wish she has and show her the world. That way, trust me, your heart will find peace", Dr. Kaur comforts and I smile at her, thankfully, rising to my feet, walking out with empty hands and a heart pouring with emotions.

I walk back into Kavya's room, where her mom's comfortably seated across the long couch, reading a novel, while Kavya has dosed off with her iPad left open. The moment I walk in, her mom and I exchange glances, before I look away, and down at the tiled floor.

The two of us had a tensed exchange two years ago, when I walked out of their house. I don't exactly remember when, but one night, I had an incoming call from Aunty.

"Darshan, I treated you like my own son. How dare you cross the line!", she lashed out at me the second I answered the call. She found out about us. "I swear to God, I shouldn't have let you in. All of you are the same. You walk in, take all we have and don't even have the slightest gratitude towards us", she yelled, and I didn't utter a word back - I was in love with her daughter whilst living in her own house, despite knowing how controlling, conservative and restrictive her husband was over such things. Her anger was justified and somewhat understandable.