An untimely demise
Nothing justifies losing your child
They say nothing lasts forever but I know for a fact that parenthood does. Four years ago, I inadvertently became part of an unparalleled tragedy. A family lost their first child, a beautiful, bright and brilliant six year old, Saisha. A loss only a parent can empathize with. I am not a mother but I am human enough to understand how a life you created and nourished must become more dear to you than your own life. I understand how heartbreaking it must be to see that life end and that body cremate to ashes.
It was the month of March and I was celebrating Holi at a friend’s place in Jersey City when I received a text from my boss “Very sad news. Siddhartha’s elder one passed away”. Shocked, I called him for details. The girl caught flu after their trip to Mexico. The night before, she vomited blood and was rushed to the local hospital. But before the doctors could reach her, she died. The younger one, also sick, was rushed to New York Presbyterian immediately.
Siddhartha and I were colleagues and I had often met his family in office parties. In the corporate world where exhibiting your emotions and developing personal relationships is looked down upon as unprofessional, there are no by-laws to convey your condolences to a suffering colleague.
When I reached the hospital the next morning, I saw Siddhartha sitting outside the ward, lost. A friend sat next to him with a neglected burger. He looked up, saw me, and hung his head again. Supriya, Siddhartha’s wife emerged from the ward, saw me and broke down — “Saisha…..”
But this wasn’t the end of this tragedy. This was the beginning of it. And the beginning of my part in it. It was a Monday morning. Despite the best of their intentions, all their friends had jobs and kids to take care of. Having no one waiting for me back home, I volunteered to stay with them that night.
And there, in that hospital room, I watched a feat of humanity that both amazed and dismayed me. Around 36 hours had passed since Saisha’s demise and Supriya, without food or sleep was watching her second child fight for life while mourning the loss of the first one. She would cry one moment, feed the infant the next. While everyone else including the father fell in the trap of weakness and got sick, she was there, the last “man” standing because she couldn’t afford to fall sick. She was the provider, the nurturer for whom, “taking a break” wasn’t an option.
While everyone else including the father fell in the trap of weakness and got sick, she was there, the last “man” standing because she couldn’t afford to fall sick. She was the provider, the nurturer for whom, “taking a break” wasn’t an option.
Saanchi, the younger one recovered the next day. But that night of pain and fear developed a bond between me and Supriya that will last a lifetime. I remember not saying a single word of consolation. I didn’t have any. What could I have said to justify or heal this irreparable loss? Both of us were looking after Saanchi the entire night, in silence. Truth was, after 36 hours of condolences over text and in person, that was exactly what Supriya needed, Silence. Silence to sink in what just happened. Silence to understand that this isn’t just a bad dream. Silence to accept that Saisha won’t just emerge from that door, alive and well. Silence to realize that the child for whom she sacrificed her career and her country, she will never see that child again.
Prior to witnessing this tragedy, I used to believe that everything happens for a greater purpose and at some point in life, that purpose manifests itself to justify the pain we went through. But Saisha’s death shook that belief. No purpose, however great, can justify the untimely death of an innocent child. No purpose, however noble, can mend the broken hearts and broken hopes of the grieving parents of that child.
No purpose, however noble, can mend the broken hearts and broken hopes of the grieving parents of that child.
A week later I attended the funeral and there, looking at all those misty-eyed, terrified parents made me realize why we become parents in the first place. We become parents to learn to love unconditionally. To become selfless and raise another human being’s needs before our own. To become compassionate towards others who are doing the same. It is to make us a better person and pave our way to salvation.
We become parents to learn to love unconditionally. To become selfless and raise another human being’s needs before our own
Saisha may not be with us anymore but even in a very short life, she made two people on this earth, extremely happy and proud. As for the rest of us, watching her go made us turn back to humanity, love and relationships, away from science or religion neither of which could explain her untimely demise.
PS: Pulled this out of my personal archives today May 25, 2022, a day after the school shooting at Uvalde, Texas. Social media is full of pictures of those 19 children and with each picture, I am reminded of the moment I saw Saisha as a corpse and the excruciating pain I felt. I can only hope this is the last time we lose our children to a completely avoidable tragedy.
