“Yes, I haven’t given up!”

By Sommaiya Noor Ali

Recently I came to know that my cousin has cancer. He is still a very new father, who had gone abroad to work, and then he planned on calling his family once he was financially secure. He has two children both under the age of four. After spending many years abroad, working day and night to give his children and wife a better future, he was diagnosed with cancer and instead of him taking care of his family, he had to come back to his family and depend on them. This family is one of the few I can see these days who are extremely family oriented, to the extent that they are very dependent on their family. They do not spend much time with friends, and family is all they need, to remain content. They actually need to see each other daily in order to go on about their routine life.

When they came to know of this the family wouldn’t hear of it. They found out names of a few experts in the field of cancer. All hell broke loose when his results came. This time they couldn’t hide from what was clearly happening, they would have gone to the end of the earth and made a round trip on foot if they could stop it from happening, but this was not going to happen. His cancer was at the last stage, not even the slightest hope was what the doctor said, but miracles still happen. Each of the members broke in their own way, although it got everyone together as this was the first time after their father’s death that all the brothers came back home. The patient needed a few surgeries; each surgery was a massive thing, a gigantic obstacle to overcome. These were the stages where the tension kept increasing, no release in sight.

A long time ago, I remember clearly. I was reading The Deathly Hallows, the last of the Harry Potter series. I did this at the end of every summer vacation. After finishing the last few pages I always pondered over the ending, thought about what I would have done had I been the writer. Although this time, I did not get much time to analyze the ending. This time while going through the last few pages I found a bump in my chest. Realistically, it scared the shit out of me. I told my ma, cried there and then over the magnitude of the situation, the usual ‘why me?’ questions arose.

Suddenly the cameraperson in charge of shooting my life had zoomed in on the little things that all of us took for granted. He was playing with the focus because I saw every tiny detail clearly. Over the next few days I noticed how beautiful dew drops looked on the railings in my terrace, and willingly, woke up one day to witness the sun rise. I am definitely not a morning person. I thought of how thankful I was to have lived these 20 years. Once when I was taking a shower I saw the stunning colours of the rainbow, because the sun was shining perfectly through the window and that was so beautiful that it made me cry. I became greedy. Wanted to live. There were so many things I hadn’t done. But, thank God, my bump, or what could very well have been cancer, wasn’t malignant.

After a few months we heard that the cancer germs in my cousin’s body had been removed, Chemotherapy was needed to kill the last few of those fatal cells. My cousin had lost a lot of weight but he still had a head full of black hair. Alhumdulilah, he looked much younger and not sick at all. He looked handsome. He saw his reasons to live right where he was, pleading with their mom to let them run around in the patio. Time to say, “Yes, he hasn’t given up!”

But then, just today I heard that his condition has worsened. And this time, again, all we need are prayers and a miraculous recovery. My friends from Framji’s class would understand the need for release, release from this seemingly never ending period of worrying. Seems like this is an ever-lasting journey, and the family would pay with their lives for it to end.

And then it ends. His life. With notice. Which does not really help anyone prepare for the shock of their life.

Or the fact that the family would still break. Yet again.