Trigger warning: mentions of Cancer
Get a glimpse into the author’s beautiful, interfaith, interstate relationship. He supported her educational dreams, while she is helping him beat cancer.
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College life, or the life on campus, was quite tedious. One had to attend these lectures from 9 a.m. to 6 p.m.—morning to evening, followed by never-ending assignments.
By the end of the day, I would be so exhausted that I would be ready to sell my kidney in exchange for some freedom and peace.
The first time I met Smriti was in the library, while preparing for an assignment to visit some survivors who became disabled due to the Bhopal gas tragedy. They lived 15 hours away. It was a topic I was interested in learning more about only because of her and the writer, Vikas Swarup.
Our relationship developed around our mutual commitment to make our country more accessible for people with disabilities—a country where everyone is equal.
I am a south Indian, Muslim citizen from the Deccan, and she is a Punjabi Hindu from Gurugram… A land usually volatile nowadays due to religion. But, in the eight years we have been together, people around us have been very positive and supportive of our relationship.
When I first introduced her to my parents, I stopped myself at: “She is a friend working in the space of disability rights.” How was I to explain that she is a co-facilitator who teaches sex education to disabled women?
She Taught Me A Lot About Equality
I have learned a lot about accessibility and equality from her in the last decade, as her perspective forced me to see everything from an accessibility perspective.
When we went to Udaipur, she got tired of walking and announced, “These palaces are highly inaccessible. They don’t even have a ramp for wheelchair users or accessible toilets.”
She had an appetite for higher education as India had limited educational resources to explore accessibility. She possessed the deep desire to make this world a little more inclusive and accessible in her lifetime.
So, she secured a commonwealth scholarship for an MSc (Master of Science) degree at the University College London (UCL)—a step towards achieving her dream. A UCL degree!
Meanwhile, I was also a young, struggling guy working in the field of education. Often, I was suffering health wise from bouts of nausea, which took me to Mumbai’s Holy Family Hospital to get everything checked.
“Why Me?”: I Was Diagnosed With Cancer
“The reports say you don’t have any problem, man. Don’t smoke. The nausea will go away. Just get a precautionary MRI (magnetic resonance imaging) for safety’s sake,” the doctor told me, peacefully.
“I don’t smoke,” I replied feebly, with a tinge of protest.
The next day, as we were waiting for the MRI results, the doctor asked about the girl sitting next to me: “Is this your wife?”
I smiled stupidly as I responded: “Koshish hain (trying to). If God permits.”
He looked at us and said blankly, in a feeble voice, “We may have found cancer.” The earth shook, you first go into denial mode. It’s a hard reality to accept. “Why me?” is the question that plagues you.
Thus started a long battle, and our lives became all about hospitals, doctors, finances etc. She wanted to leave London. I said, “Why? You need your degree, dost (friend)! It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I am here only.”
“I’ll Be There For You”
She went to UCL and completed her course. Since the diagnosis, she has been running around with me from one hospital to the next, to seek various treatments for my terminal illness.
Slurping finished Frooti, she announced, “Hum hain bey (I am here for you)!” All this from just one tired evening, where I happened to meet a girl in the library while finishing my assignment.
There is a dialogue in film “Kingdom Of Heaven” (2005):
Balian of Ibelin: “What is Jerusalem worth?”
Saladin: “Nothing.”
[walks away]
Saladin: “Everything.”
Humara (our) Jerusalem!