Abba's Poetry And The Fear Of Losing Him....

Its late in the night. I am reading Abba's poetry and getting amazed by the sheer class and the unique ability to resist attention grabbing tactics. His poetry just flows without clamouring for attention. The impact is solid and the experience of imagery is unique. Sample this:

Ek Aur Maut

Kat gaya din, dhali shaam, shab aa gayi
Phir zameen apne mahvar se hatne lagi
Chaandni karvate phir badalne lagi
Aahaton ke sisakte hue shor se
Phir makaan bhar gaya
Zaher sapno ka pee kar
Koi aaj ki raat phir mar gaya

Translating the last two lines in English will read like this:

Having drunk his dreams
Someone died this night, once again

Abba's condition has worsened. His left side has been paralysed. His left leg and hand are not functioning any more. He has had rigorous Radio Therapy post the assigned Chemo Therapy sessions. There are multiple tumours in the brain. Time is ticking like an unpredictable bomb. We as a family are trying our level best to make things as comfortable as possible for him. He never complains and always tries to project as if everything is fine. One can source 'Strength' from him. Whatever will be, will be...but he genuinely doesn't wish to cause anxiety to anyone because of his condition. The fact that everyone has a definite end, leaves you with such a sinking feeling. No matter how much one may deny or philosophise, no one wants to die. At any stage. At any age.

Past few months have been extremely tough for me. I am constantly in a thoughtful mood. I've also worked like never before in the last few months. I am far more sharp, focussed, determined and eager to excell in every sphere as far as my work is concerned. I've done some very fine interviews and people find it surprising that how do I manage to do so many interviews and yet retain interest levels in most of the interviews. As I've said earlier, I am laughing and enjoying myself in most of the interviews, but the imminent fear of losing a loved one hurts me from within. All the time.

I really don't know how I'll take it when the 'Bad News' will finally open its jaws. I hope I'm prepared. I've cried a lot in the past few months after the disease was disclosed to us. Something from within tells me, it'll be my work, that is, and will be, the perfect refuge to escape from pain and sadness. Let's wait and watch. Lemme read some more poetry before I call it a day. Good night folks!
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