I am a dreamer and when I wake

You can’t break my spirit – it’s my dream you take

And as you move on remember me

Remember us and all we used to be…

‘Goodbye my friend’

It was just few weeks over when it first rained for the class of 2012, half drenched, soaked with expectations we had a flight of imagination that took us long and wide, beyond the territories defined, into the land we call management. Indeed it sounds morbid when one would listen as an outsider, however hardly there has been any difference in the way one sees, if something has changed, it’s the way we feel. When we came, we chose to see the difference and while we are about to leave this land of dreams, we choose to feel the difference. Our world of utopia has a meaning similar yet different to each of us. With this very difference today I have an abstract question for the few who would care a read J

How does an end of life situation feel?

An old woman of 40 sat morose in the air-conditioned lobby of one of the best hospitals in the city. The temperature inside the room was no where similar to what was inside her, to her the world was as ruthless, humid and displaced as was the barren hot summer month of March. She gazed at a glass door which read the label of Dr. Varma, the busiest human one would ever get to see and the finest oncologist probably!  She sat looking at the hope of recovery that lay at the other side of a glass door.

Was it an illusion that she craved for?

Even if it would have been, one would wish a million times it to be not an illusion but a reality.

‘So how you’ve been Shafeen?’  Asked the ward nurse to her

‘Nice madam, treatment hai. Doctor sab free hai?

Haan abhi der hai?’

In the land of anything but Hindi, any language up north pulls you towards the conversation. And then I observed, Yes she did not have hair; probably she was going through chemo. Her wrinkles were too many for the look in her eyes; probably she was fighting a battle far too long. Her words were no more of eagerness  but  were  of  endurance,  probably  she  had  it  enough.  I  guessed  she  would  have  been somewhere in late 40’s.

The door opened, she went in. As I watched the sun set across a roof line of buildings, time flew in fractions without a hint of any pause. She returned with a fat book of receipts and prescriptions and sat

next to me, with a cordial smile I asked, how you’ve been doing? She looked at me with a dry gaze and

replied I’m waiting for my son; he should be here any minute.

Realizing, that anything I would say would rather increase her distress I continued my chores and went for few nitty-gritty’s. Bang came a sound of swooshing door. I see an 8 year old kid jumping into Shafeen’s lap. She hugged him close.

A sudden emotion of sadness was all that I could feel, I see a woman having an eight year old child fighting a battle for cancer. All her dreams to watch her son grow, her desires for a happy life, her plans for a fantastic future lay in disgrace of chemical fluids and radiation.

I did not see an end of life situation, I saw a lifeless living person battling life’s toughest battle

How does it feel to be an end of life situation? And I was speechless.”

How many of us are ready for such a battle? I know the example is far grave than probably needed for a goodbye blog in an MBA institute. But don’t we question those for who we care? Have we, 300 of us, risen beyond the abysmal hickories of assignments, presentations, exams and placement, Have we, amidst all the hullabaloo of being in an MBA could find one change in us that would prove that yes we are a better person than what we were exactly 1 year back. Have we, for once, thought about how we can help others change and make world a better place than just living our own sweet dream?

We don’t need to face death to die, one decays with every fraction of a second lived unfulfilled. If we don’t have even a single answer as yes then within the constructs of universe we don’t hold the right to say that we have changed. And if we have for that matter even one yes, then believe that to our success sky is the limit. To know that whatever I have done in this life, I have learnt to change and make a difference to others. All we need is just one ‘Yes’.

Great Lakes on a rainy night turned to the other side of midnight and welcomed us into the world of unknown, unfathomable and desired. As we reach towards the end of that very day I am sure we all have something more than just “our self” to discover. The world of mediocrity which revolves around stagnant dreams, lazy hopes and fatigued desires; I am sure right in the middle of everything we have known, is a belief that we can make a difference for us, for others and for all those who touched our lives.

The power of being a warrior is strongest at the dawn of a battle, as we step ahead to yet another day of compassion and rigor let the Sparta we believe in never die … Let the Spartan prevail!

Remember days, we fought forever

Good old rides of sun and shade…

As you move on remember me

Remember us in the times we fade

Good my friend, remember me…

By ~ Debashree Chatterjee


About Debashree

Great Lakes Blogger from Spartans Batch 2012.
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2 Responses to Blitzkrieg

  1. dreamsunlimited says:

    Be the change, you want to see in the world … I wish and pray that the spartan spirit prevails in each one of you… Carve out your ways ahead…

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