Disha stared out of the
window of the train as it sped towards Kerala. She was visiting her
aunt on a break from work for 3 days. It was a respite she was
looking forward to. Her work kept her on her feet from morning to
evening with just enough time to grab a quick bite at lunch time and
a cup of coffee in the evening. It was not that she did not enjoy
her job, but there were days when it did get her down. She was
wondering whether this was what she really wanted to do all her life.
She sighed deeply as she
settled down comfortably in her corner and rested her head against
the window. The cool breeze was very refreshing and the lush green
paddy fields and coconut trees rushing in the opposite direction were
very soothing to the eye. The wheels of the train drumed a rhythmic
beat on the iron tracks lulling her mind into a reflective state.
She slowly went back to her younger days.
Disha was a fun loving
girl. She was one among 5 siblings – 3 girls and 2 boys. Her
father, Joseph, worked in the railways in a clerical position and her
mother, Regina, was a nurse. They somehow made ends meet and the
children were sent to missionary schools where the fees were not
unreasonably high. The parents were very strict with the children,
especially with the girls. There were very rigid curfew hours for
the daughters and woe betide any of them who dared to come home late.
Despite all this Disha
and her sisters were very spirited and had their share of fun. They
managed to get through their exams with average marks. They did not
have any great ambitions in life. They were brought up to expect
that they would have to get married to devout Catholic boys when they
came of age and this would have to be done with the approval of the
parents.
So it was that Disha got
married to Steven when she was around 22. She had completed her
graduation in commerce, done a short course in type writing and had
been working for a couple of years as an accountant in an office not
too far from her home in Thalassery. Steven hailed from Eranakulam.
He came from a family of two brothers and two sisters. His father
was a clerk in the municipal office and his mother a housewife. His
brother and sisters were still studying and he himself done a diploma
from a polytechnic college. He had been working with a construction
company since the last 4 years and was 25 years old.
After marriage, Disha
moved to Ernakulam and tried to find a job there. She found a job in
a local library. Her usual routine involved getting up early in the
morning, making breakfast for the whole family, going to work
(everyone had lunch in the canteen at work or in college), come back
in the evening, get back into the kitchen and cook dinner for
everyone. There would be very little help forthcoming from anyone,
though there would be plenty of complaints, snide comments and rude
remarks. She tried ignoring these for a while though she used to
feel very hurt. Steven did not do much to stand up for her. By and
by their relationship too got strained. Things went too far and soon
enough it came to the stage of a break-up. Not surprisingly, there
was no support from her own family, nor was she welcome back home.
Disha with her broken
heart approached a friend who was her friend, philosopher and guide.
The friend took her in for a week and during this time they kept
looking for other job opportunities for Disha outside Ernakulam.
This is how they came across an advertisement calling for young boys
and girls in their 20s willing to work as “care-givers” for
elderly people in a home in Bangalore. The home was called “Angels
of Hope” and was started by a Dr. Rukmini Krishnan and her husband.
This was a home which took in patients with dementia and Alzheimers'
and took care of them. The home also had a lot of other programmes
for the welfare of the elderly.
The incumbents would be
offered a decent salary, accommodation and meals. In return they
would have to take care of the elderly just like they would take care
of their own grand parents or elderly parents. It would not be easy.
Old people suffering with dementia, Alzheimers', Parkinsons' and
such problems are not always easy to take care of. They have their
mood swings. It can be a lot more difficult than taking care of
children. Taking care of children, while difficult, can also have
its fun moments, but one cannot be guaranteed of such moments when
caring for the elderly. If one gets them, they would be a bonus.
Disha decided to take up
this job and give it a try. At least she would have a roof over her
head and a job to take care of her for a while and if she did not
like her job she could look for something else with this in hand.
The first 3 months had
gone in training. It had been alright – not too difficult, not too
easy. It had been hard work. One had to deal with old people, their
quirks, their illnesses, do everything for them including taking them
to the toilet, cleaning them, changing diapers, bathing them, combing
their hair, feeding them, cajoling them to eat, ensuring that they
took their medications etc. That was not all. Some of them were
very advanced cases of dementia and would keep talking to themselves,
or to imaginary, unseen people, cursing them, shouting at them,
rocking incessantly, chewing their clothes all the time, walking up
and down, turning violent at times ....... all this was part of a
day's work. There were patients who would rinse their mouths with
the coffee or food they were given and spit it out. Others would
pour all the coffee down on the floor. Oh, at times it could get
exasperating. In the evenings they would have to bring down the
washed clothes, fold them and separate them and put them into the
cupboards of the individual inmates.
In the evenings they
would take those people who were capable of sitting out onto the lawn
on wheel chairs or walking with the help of walkers or with support.
There they would play ball with them, throwing a soft cloth ball to
each one of them in turn, making them do some simple exercises etc.
This was the time the care-givers would relax and let go and horse
around, play around and have some fun. They would go around pepping
the old folks, giving them hugs, pulling their cheeks, noses just the
way kids would do to their grand parents at home and sway to the
music pouring out of a music system.
Even so, there were days
when Disha would feel like she was missing a normal life – the life
a normal 25 year old would love to lead. Well, she needed some time
off from the home to really think this matter over.
The train soon arrived at
Trichur station. Disha got off and found her aunt and cousin waiting
for her.
“How are you dear? It
is so long since we saw you. You have lost so much of weight since I
last saw you”.
“No, appachi, I am just
the same. You are looking good. And how are you doing Cheta?”
George just patted her on
her back and gave her a smile.
Disha spent 3 quiet days
in Trichur in her appachi's home. They had done everything to make
her comfortable and had studiedly tried to avoid talking to her about
her past or her disastrous marriage.
The return journey to
Bangalore had been by A/C bus and Disha had slept almost throughout
the journey. The way back to the home from the main bus station was
an hour long ride by bus. It was 6 pm and there were innumerable
traffic jams caused by the rush of office goers returning home.
As soon as she entered
the building, Disha bumped into a couple of her co-workers.
“Hey Disha, how are
you? How was your holiday”?
“Lucky gal. It's ages
since I had a break. We really missed you here”.
Disha just smiled at them
and replied “Oh, had a swell time. It was so good to get away from
this crazy city life, back to a quiet life even if it was only for 3
days and oh it was such a treat to see the greenery in Kerala. God
knows how much I miss it here. Yes Megha, it's really high time you
took off for at least a couple of days”.
Saying that she went to
the 4 bedder room which was entrusted to her care. As she entered
she saw the first one – Shanti Rangarajan, an 84 year old who had
been admitted just a couple of months ago. This lady was a case of
Alzheimer's and was in bad state when she had first come in. (Most
of the people coming in were in much the same state when they got
admitted). She had, however, made good progress and was doing a lot
better. She was inclined to be quiet and did not talk much. She
looked up as Disha entered the room, beamed from ear to ear and
reached out to her and kept touching her as if to make sure it was
really she. After a while Disha went to check out the next patient.
When she had checked all her regular wards, she went upstairs to
check out Elsie, an elderly lady who had been paralysed after a hip
surgery and who could not speak or walk or do anything any more.
There she was on a wheel chair. She caught a glimpse of Disha. She
did not react, but pushed aside another care-giver who was standing
in the way and kept staring at Disha. Disha went up to her and gave
her a hug.
“How are you Elsie”?
Elsie opened her mouth
and with great difficulty tried to enunciate “I am alright”.
There was a tear at the edge of her eye.
There were tears in
Disha's eyes too. She had come home. This was her home. This was
her family. This was where she was comfortable. This was not just a
job or a profession for her. It was her life, it was her calling and
she would never ever consider quitting it for anything else. These
elderly people loved her and needed her and she loved them just as
much. No other job could give her the satisfaction that this job
did. These were the moments that made all the hard work worth the
while. These were the moments that were more rewarding than all the
money that she could ever earn for her work.
