I am a kidney transplant recipient, and I am a melancholic soul, who seeks relief from the mundane of the colour the city of my world tends to offer. I would rather sit under a comely tree with a soft wind than read through poems describing them. But when I am under that tree, I want to read poems. Words, perhaps, are more important to me.
That is why, when I ended up writing a small novella, I decided to pay my gratitude to the people who stayed with me through thick and thin, who were there for me during my dialysis and transplant, who helped me in all the ways they could.
Following is the acknowledgement for my novella, ‘Under The Canopy Of Stars‘, whose kindle version was recently released, and whose print version, God-willing, is expected to come once we’re over the corona-scare, which is bound to be forgotten like a whiff of snow even before it melts.
Acknowledgement
Let me begin with the truth. I am terminally ill; and like all terminally ill patients out there, I am dependent on others for my very survival.
This is a hard fact to digest. Some people spend even years to come to terms with it but there have been people, who have stood by me, who have helped me come to terms with the truth, and given me all the help they could; sometimes, more than I deserved. I guess I should convey my thanks to them, rather than talk about what this book contains.
I was about to have my first biopsy at the age of 18, when I lay there, on a bed, with white sheets in a room in the hospital. He was there too, the first of the two people I wish to dedicate this small fantastical novella. He was my doctor, a tall well-built man of impeccable presence and an extremely insightful physician.
I was trying to show otherwise, but I was really afraid. “How are you Tiger?,” he asked. And I said, “I am good,” smiling. “Then look here,” he said, in his commandeering iron voice with a soft tinge of care. I looked up from my supine position while I was lying on my belly.
He showed me his gloved hands, all ready for what looked like an operation to me back then. Being a terminally ill person is nothing less than living an adventurous journey! “These hands. They are rock solid. Unshakeable. I have done thousands of biopsies and never once faltered. Don’t worry.” I heard those words and calmed down, at once.
Rock Solid – these words still ring in my ears. I have always tried to be like him: rock solid. I have always tried to be like you, Dr Ranjith Nair Sir. You have been an inspiration. A role model to me. Thank you for being there.
The second person is Kaustuv Prakash, or KP sir, as I used to call him. Once, we were standing on a second-floor corridor connecting two of the many buildings of Ravindra Bhawan. I was trying to come to terms with my new life, and he was just standing with me, looking at a distant moon. Suddenly he asked me, “What do you want Nachi. Tell me. What do you really want from life?”
I was perturbed. KP Sir was not the kind of person who’d be effusive. He was always calm and had a weird calming influence on others as well. He was the convener of a major national event then, whose organisational team I had been a part of, and he was the first person in my institute I had found to be ‘humane’, something I considered to be a far more important trait. “I want to be as calm as you are, KP sir. And I want to be more humane,” I said, in my mind.
To him, I said, “I want to play billiards and be able to have fun and live whatever is left of me.”
And he said, “Then do it. We are with you.” And as time showed, he was speaking the truth. He was with me.
Thank you KP Sir. Thank you for being there. Thank you Ranjith Sir. Thank you for being there. Also, gratitude to my roommate of the first institute I ended up studying, Tanay Rajpurohit. I hope for one day…
That’s all I wish to say, for now. In addition to the pages I have inked, of course.
Nachi
December 2019
I also wish to thank:
Rana Premasish Roy
Abhinav Saxena
Vaibhav Tandon
Anirudh Vasdev
Harshit Gupta
Yuvraj Singh
Gazal Vats
and many other names I do not want to write, simply for the sake of not making it kitsch — in a drama. I am writing these names because I fear death, honestly. Because I want to thank them in a better, bigger, and more direct way, if life permits me. With things like the corona around, anything can happen.
I know you are all doing great whatever you are doing, wherever you are. My blessings and thoughts will always be with you. Thank you.