Sweven

“Ma’am, your child has drug resistant tuberculosis. We will try our best but you have to understand that at this point of time, nothing is in our hands.”

I kept recalling the doctor’s words. It felt like it was a nightmare. Nidhi had tuberculosis. Moreover, today, the doctor had said it was too late, but all was not lost. For the past few days, Nidhi had been crying whenever she was awake. While eating, while playing, while bathing, her heart-wrenching cries would feel as if I was walking on a bed of hot coal. She was just 1 and a half year old.

Two days later, Nidhi was showing signs of improvement. We had also increased the dosage to higher ones and she was definitely getting better. It felt like a ray of hope in these dark and grave times. My mother, who was staying with us, said that I was smiling after very long and it was beautiful. She knew that the only reason of my happiness was my daughter.

It’s been two years now. People look at me with sympathetic eyes and I don’t know how to explain the void that I feel. Yes, the cot is empty, no giggles, no diapers lying here and there. Nidhi left us two years ago. Seems like yesterday, when she slept on my lap peacefully. What wouldn’t I give to see her again?