THE ICU WARD
I see tired people with little hope
This is a pretty serious personal essay if you couldn’t notice from the title, but I’ll sprinkle jokes to make even a wrong seem like a right.
How very political of me.
These jokes will add taste to this very bleak hospital room I am sitting in, with very old architecture, with buildings which looked like they were built only using a ruler. It felt very old, even though this was a new building. I do not know about the building, but the people here aged faster than ever.
Sitting and waiting for a decision about your loved ones does that to a person.
Everyone here had a black curtain over their eyes. Like the curtain which gets put up after the play has ended. I saw the same look in my mom’s eyes, so I gave her a tight hug, which held back the curtains for a bit longer. I write this as I sit in the lounge of the ICU room.
My cutu ajji(grandma), who has hustle culture and feeding her family built into her at the mere age of 16 when she got married, due to which she overworked herself into a backache which she never got checked, because ah well, someone needs to stay at home while the men go out to get groceries.
Her back checked out before she did as a sign to stop this hustle that patriarchy had imposed on her without even asking her. Her age is also a factor, but this sounded more artsy.
The ICU, if you do not know, is a very exclusive club. They only let you in twice a day to go party (to see your loved ones, which is its own sort of party for your peace of mind and soul).
This lounge had people who had some sort of weight on their shoulders. Perhaps the weight of those fighting for their life in the ICU. When I was waiting for my turn outside the ICU, as they only let one person inside, I noticed a man walking out of the ICU room holding back more than tears.
It’s as if he had just seen the rock in his life break into pieces.
That’s when I knew his dad was in the ICU.
He gave the coat to his brother, as the tears he was holding back couldn’t be contained anymore.
A man’s eyes can hold 10,000 tons of emotional force, even at the wrong times. We have been affected by patriarchy so much that showing that one emotion makes us less masculine.
We men are weird creatures. We take so many decisions to make sure we appear the strongest, that we appear like the most alpha, but in the end all we want is a safe space where we can hug our homies and tell our grandmas that we love them.
But alas, we move with dams of patriarchy stopping the years of held back tears from dropping down our faces.
Anyway, it was my turn and I went in to talk to my grandma. She seemed so jolly and was smiling the whole time. Perhaps it was because she hadn’t talked to anyone in a few days without a pipe being shoved into every hole of her body.
Perhaps it was the list of drugs they gave that went on and on when unrolled in a cartoonist fashion.
It was definitely the drugs. Definitely.
She talked to me and asked questions about how I came, with whom I came and much more. It was extremely adorable when she kept asking when my Ajja(grandpa) would come.
I was scared I would be traumatized and would end up breaking down right there. But her being so jolly and asking me questions helped lower that gosh darn patriarchy dam a bit. After a while it got awkward because I didn’t know what else to say, while she just smiled showing all of her teeth. She really needed a toothbrush.
Those drugs were goooood.
Moral of the story:
Go visit your grandma in the ICU, even if they let you in just for half an hour, because JUST. She is your grandma.
Did you know that, at least for girls, you were actually inside your grandma when she was pregnant with your mother, because the eggs develop as a little fetus itself, so you were actually inside your grandma, and you can’t even visit her.
Shame shame puppy shame, all the boys know your name. (or whatever gender you are attracted to)
Thank you and have a nice day.
