My Eudaemonic Life

Not far away from my house is a Cancer Society which houses about 30-40 cancer patients. It provides them medical and residential facilities, a kitchen and recreational activities for their stay. These patients come from different parts of the country, mostly the interiors. The only thing common to them is that , they are all kids, from an infant to 17 years suffering from different forms of cancer.

I used to visit the society to spend some time with the kids. But later, I was asked to teach them dance. At first, the thought was exciting but few days later, it started to get tough. It was an exhausting process, weakening me emotionally. It was not easy to be around people who were dying, especially when they were kids.

On my way back home, I questioned and complained to god. These were kids so full of life and love. They didn’t have an inkling of what was wrong with them, their families couldn’t bear the huge expense of the treatment, and more than that, they were KIDS…God’s small bundles of joy and hope. I stopped visiting them because of the emotional toll it took on me. I remember going back home and crying, simply because there wasn’t much you could do for these children. But then my mother explained otherwise. “You give them just one hour of your week. In that hour, you are giving them memories that might last them all their life, memories that they’ll cherish as long as they are alive.”

That changed the way I looked at these children. I figured, the least I could do is give them some love. Dance, was just an excuse, we hardly ever danced. Expecting the kids to memorize the steps, sync with the music was inhuman. Kids, undergoing chemotherapy were too weak to even move on their beds, dance was a long shot for them.

As I said, dance was just what we called my one hour (usually turned into two hours and more) with them. Most children wouldn’t eat during chemotherapy. It was difficult to deal with the hair loss. Constant fever, weakness and heavy medication led them to be irritable all the time. My only job then, was to feed them. I would take the kids in my arms and sweet talk them into eating . Feeding even small morsels could be difficult, but then it was some sort of an importance they felt when “didi” fed you. Luckily it worked. The parents would often tell us how the kids wouldn’t eat if they tried to feed them, but gladly ate when I fed them.

There are some success stories and some failures. I’ve seen two kids die, both aged between 5 and 8. I’ve seen one suffering brain damage, so inspite of her 14 years of age, she can now barely move or speak. But you are grateful for the ones who did make it. Infact one girl, Koel from Calcutta, even stars in the Cancer Society Commercial that is aired on TV showcasing the success stories.

Even today when I visit them, they greet you with such happiness and love, that all complains, all unhappiness fades away. They smother you with such unconditional love that you can’t believe could exist.

Like every other ambitious person, I too hope to have a meaningful job, a nice family, a successful career….but more than that, I now know what gives me happiness-providing the same to others.