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Nisha tossed from side to side. Her breathing became heavier and heavier. She felt a burning sensation erupting in her fingers—which radiated to her shoulders—and from there to her back. It was sheer hell. She needed pain killers desperately.
It was the middle of the night. Nisha didn’t want to wake up Raj who appeared to be in deep sleep. So she slowly got up from her bed from the left side, quietly opened the side drawers and took out her zip lock of emergency medicines. She slowly dragged herself to the bathroom, switched on the lights and took out a few painkillers—the ones the doctor had prescribed as SOS.
Nisha then switched the lights off and found her way back to her bed. She sat down gingerly, poured a glass of water from a thermos on her bed side table and quietly swallowed the medicine.
Nisha slipped under the bed sheets quietly. The pain didn’t ease. Her mind was wandering. There were many questions that were left unanswered.
She had researched Stage IV lung cancer on the internet and found a few startling facts—that only four percent survived beyond five years—that it affected more women than men—that it killed nearly 1.3 million people each year and was the biggest killer overall. And—nearly half the patients died within the first year.
Only four percent? That was depressing. She knew she couldn’t be that lucky to be in the four percent that survived. Those patients were outliers. The lucky ones. She had never even won a lottery in her life. Whatever she had achieved was after a lot of planning, practice, preparation and struggle.
Nisha kept on tossing from side to side in the hope that changing sides will make the pain bearable. But to no avail. She wondered how she could have contracted lung cancer when she had never smoked in her life. Not even when many of her classmates in school were experimenting with cigarettes and even drugs.
As she researched, she discovered that the reasons for getting lung cancer could be many.
Her father was a chain smoker. Could she then be a victim of passive smoking? Maybe. Would it be right to pin this dreaded disease on her loving father? Nisha didn’t know.
Her recording studio was painted afresh a few years ago. She’d now learnt that even paint fumes could cause lung cancer. Should she blame her profession then—for what happened to her?
Causes could also be genetic. So should she blame her parents or grandparents—for passing on those “defective” genes to her?
In that moment something flashed in her mind. People in India are big on astrologers. We all have a fear of the future, the fear of uncertainty. We all have questions. How long will you live? Will you be successful in your chosen career? Will you get married? And if yes, will you have a happily married life? Will you be disease free?
Or the scary ones. Will you be charged with something you didn’t commit? Will you lose your loved ones? Will you suffer from any fatal disease? Will you lose your wealth?
You get the idea?
Hindu astrology proceeds on the basis of the place, time and the date of your birth. These three parameters are used to calculate the position of planets—that’s the thing.
The planets that revolve around in our solar system are supposed to determine whether we are going to have a happy time or an unpleasant one.
Some planets may bring you good luck, but others may cause you great harm—they may even corrupt the way you think!
No study has been done so far—to prove or disprove the point. But—and it’s a big but—many Indians believe that whatever their astrological charts said about their lives—turned out to be true.
Nisha remembered that when she was young—an astrologer or rather a palmist had visited her home. He had looked at her left palm (for girls, you read the left palm and for boys the right!) and had declared unequivocally that—her life line was finishing after her 30th birthday. The prediction made her parents worry. So they consulted a more “established” professional Hindu astrologer.
This gentleman said something very interesting:
“I see a break in Nisha’s life after she turns thirty. It could only mean two things. It will either—be an end of her or a new beginning.”
Nisha wondered if the astrologer was referring to the terminal illness she was now suffering from. It was heart-breaking to learn that she was going to die soon, when she wanted to live. There was so much to do in the world—she hadn’t even sung half the songs she wanted to sing—she wanted to mentor so many younger singers—she wanted to do charity—she wanted to live with Raj in a picture-perfect cottage atop a hill—forever.
Her mind turned towards the seven vows she had taken during her marriage, one of which was:
“I will love you solely for the rest of my life, as you are my husband.”
There was one more thing the astrologer had said, which she forgot. It was:
“Her love life will be legendary. Very few people, in this world, will be as blessed as her. Her husband will love her so much that he will even fight death to change her destiny. Whether he will succeed or not—only planets will decide.”
