The Chaos Within - Saraswathi's Dance
On Tuesday I walked into Sahara with two med students from Canada, Aisha and Kim, and my mates from Scotland here for a quick visit, Andy Mac and Kirsty. As I walked through the door I looked left and raised my hand to greet Ashok in the men's ward as I have been doing for the last few months. The bed was empty.
I knew. But I had to ask.
"Errol where's Ashok?"
Errol smiled.
"Has he gone home?"
"He's gone home only baba. He died last evening."
Fuck!
"Don't worry about it so much Hans. He is ok now na. He was in so much pain."
Ashok had danced not two weeks ago with his wife Ashvini. He was so thrilled that he didn't just raise his hands to come greet me, he sat up and walked up to me to shake my hand.
"I'll come to you today."
The dancer was gone.
It was a tough day.
I will miss him.
Errol and I talked about how important it is not to get emotionally involved with clients. Ashok is not a DISHA client. He was my friend.
Errol and I talked about how important it is not to get emotionally involved with clients. He married Anjali and is looking after her three children.
Errol and I talked about how important it is not to get emotionally involved with clients. Last morning Saraswathi died and I cried.
Yes. She is gone. On Tuesday she smiled. Errol had shaved her head because there was lice about, and I bent over and whipped off my bandana and said 'look Saraswathi, we are like twins' and she smiled through her oral thrush. It was faint and I looked at Lata to confirm my hope that it was a smile and Lata smiled and nodded her head.
I went to Sahara to collect her body. Errol had to pack her in the white sheets before I got there to prevent infection. We then uncovered her face so that I could say goodbye. I squished down her weeping eyes. They were dry no longer. Dead bodies leak. Remember? When I picked her up to carry her to the Deep Griha ambulance she was light. I could have carried her alone.
We sat - Maya and I, with Chris, my English mate from Goa who had just got off the bus, and as a testament to who he is, came with me to collect Saraswathi - in the ambulance with her laid out gently at our feet. It was good to have someone to talk to.
Soon, we were back in the gully that had seen us wash Nagesh's dead body in January. Saraswathi's daughter rushed up to both Maya and Me and hugged us. Just for that moment we were man, woman and child. How random. How real. How much this little kid and her brother have had to face in six months.
The wailing and the histrionics that accompany a death in the community followed as expected. We washed her body. This time my whole team did it. Not just the HIV+ team members, and Avinash.
I didn't have much to do, and Maya had already washed her feet, but how could I not wash Saraswathi's feet... so I did, again.
She was burned like her husband was... and is now ash. Chris reckons she was watching it all and thinking, 'no more pain, don't cry for me. I am all right now.'
On the way back from the crematorium I noticed that both Maya and Lata were extremely quiet. As the team got down and trooped upstairs, I ordered them to me sternly. And fuck, they held on to me and silent tears started to fall. I cannot fathom the strength it takes these two people to do what they do every day. They give of themselves, again and again and again, and what... do they see their end every time a client dies? I don't know. I hugged them both to me, and reassured them that they have DISHA now. They have Deep Griha. They have me.
Errol and I talked about how important it is not to get emotionally involved with clients. Lata and Maya are not my clients. They are not just on my team. They are not just my friends. They are my gurus. They have been and they always will be, and together with Errol they give me life every day. They make me dance.
Last night Paul, Chris and I stayed the night with Errol and Anjali and little Teju. As we lay down to sleep, I remember reaching out and grasping his hand and just holding it.
This afternoon we were at Sahara again for the DISHA - Sahara Carrom tournament. We played for an old cup that was donated to Deep Griha and sat gathering dust in a cupboard. The final was an all Sahara affair. The two DISHA teams were eliminated in the first round. Avinash and Meera, Team 1 and Shankar - an HIV affected kid - and I, Team 2.
The music blared. Little Kumar started dancing. He has great moves. Stevie and Katie joined in. The place was alive. And as I watched them I thought of Ashok's last dance and the question Malik asked me last night as he inquired about Saraswathi's funeral.
"How was Saraswathi's Dance?"
It was a good dance. She had some great moves. And we'll dance them until we can dance no more.
I knew. But I had to ask.
"Errol where's Ashok?"
Errol smiled.
"Has he gone home?"
"He's gone home only baba. He died last evening."
Fuck!
"Don't worry about it so much Hans. He is ok now na. He was in so much pain."
Ashok had danced not two weeks ago with his wife Ashvini. He was so thrilled that he didn't just raise his hands to come greet me, he sat up and walked up to me to shake my hand.
"I'll come to you today."
The dancer was gone.
It was a tough day.
I will miss him.
Errol and I talked about how important it is not to get emotionally involved with clients. Ashok is not a DISHA client. He was my friend.
Errol and I talked about how important it is not to get emotionally involved with clients. He married Anjali and is looking after her three children.
Errol and I talked about how important it is not to get emotionally involved with clients. Last morning Saraswathi died and I cried.
Yes. She is gone. On Tuesday she smiled. Errol had shaved her head because there was lice about, and I bent over and whipped off my bandana and said 'look Saraswathi, we are like twins' and she smiled through her oral thrush. It was faint and I looked at Lata to confirm my hope that it was a smile and Lata smiled and nodded her head.
I went to Sahara to collect her body. Errol had to pack her in the white sheets before I got there to prevent infection. We then uncovered her face so that I could say goodbye. I squished down her weeping eyes. They were dry no longer. Dead bodies leak. Remember? When I picked her up to carry her to the Deep Griha ambulance she was light. I could have carried her alone.
We sat - Maya and I, with Chris, my English mate from Goa who had just got off the bus, and as a testament to who he is, came with me to collect Saraswathi - in the ambulance with her laid out gently at our feet. It was good to have someone to talk to.
Soon, we were back in the gully that had seen us wash Nagesh's dead body in January. Saraswathi's daughter rushed up to both Maya and Me and hugged us. Just for that moment we were man, woman and child. How random. How real. How much this little kid and her brother have had to face in six months.
The wailing and the histrionics that accompany a death in the community followed as expected. We washed her body. This time my whole team did it. Not just the HIV+ team members, and Avinash.
I didn't have much to do, and Maya had already washed her feet, but how could I not wash Saraswathi's feet... so I did, again.
She was burned like her husband was... and is now ash. Chris reckons she was watching it all and thinking, 'no more pain, don't cry for me. I am all right now.'
On the way back from the crematorium I noticed that both Maya and Lata were extremely quiet. As the team got down and trooped upstairs, I ordered them to me sternly. And fuck, they held on to me and silent tears started to fall. I cannot fathom the strength it takes these two people to do what they do every day. They give of themselves, again and again and again, and what... do they see their end every time a client dies? I don't know. I hugged them both to me, and reassured them that they have DISHA now. They have Deep Griha. They have me.
Errol and I talked about how important it is not to get emotionally involved with clients. Lata and Maya are not my clients. They are not just on my team. They are not just my friends. They are my gurus. They have been and they always will be, and together with Errol they give me life every day. They make me dance.
Last night Paul, Chris and I stayed the night with Errol and Anjali and little Teju. As we lay down to sleep, I remember reaching out and grasping his hand and just holding it.
This afternoon we were at Sahara again for the DISHA - Sahara Carrom tournament. We played for an old cup that was donated to Deep Griha and sat gathering dust in a cupboard. The final was an all Sahara affair. The two DISHA teams were eliminated in the first round. Avinash and Meera, Team 1 and Shankar - an HIV affected kid - and I, Team 2.
The music blared. Little Kumar started dancing. He has great moves. Stevie and Katie joined in. The place was alive. And as I watched them I thought of Ashok's last dance and the question Malik asked me last night as he inquired about Saraswathi's funeral.
"How was Saraswathi's Dance?"
It was a good dance. She had some great moves. And we'll dance them until we can dance no more.
posted by Deep Griha at 5:12 am
1 Comments:
Hey Hans
There is no greater event in Life than Death to make us think about what was, and what is important to us. It makes us appreciate the people who we love and the people who are no longer with us. We realise at last what they truely ment to us and we will remember them fondly forever.
Keep the good memories and, as is the case of anyone who has ever died, they will, in a sence, live on in the hearts and minds of those who loved them, including yourself.
David
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