She pulled me through...

(Written on 13th Oct '09)
In split seconds, the world turned upside down, figuratively and literally.
The car jumped, my head hit the ceiling, our bodies strapped to seat-belts swayed to and fro, skidded, hit against the divider at the flyover, with a force so colossal that it toppled upside down.

There was sound of scattering broken glasses followed by death silence. Then I heard my own voice writhing in pain shouting ‘why again?’ (I was in a similar accident just 4 years back).

I saw her injured hand lifeless, I heard his voice painfully beseeching for divine help and I felt a brain numbing pain below my waist. Crushed, broken, and mangled, my bones were. My heart turned cold at the thought of never being able to walk again.

What about mom? What would this do to her? She doesn’t deserve this! No, she doesn’t.
It isn’t fair to her. These were my first thoughts.

I wasn’t in denial.
I knew we had lost a friend. She was as beautiful as much as she was virtuous.
I knew he would be devastated. The desolation he would feel is unimaginative and no man or woman should have to ever undergo the same. I cry with him (We all do).

I could be more elaborate about this incident that shattered the lives of 3 people and their families. But, strong as I may seem, I am not ready yet.
It’s been 2 months 13 days since that fateful day.
I hope that one day I can write about it without this piercing pain in my heart.

I could talk about the angels sent by Him to rescue us and the many good Samaritans along the way, who played a big role in my treatment, survival and healing.
I could talk about my invaluable friends and colleagues who were there 24/7.
I could take about Ariba as an organization and how it stepped up for its member at the hour of need.
I could talk about the shoddy unreliable health/medical care system India owns.
I could talk about my surgery, my doubts, aches, and my ongoing recovery and rehabilitation.
But I won’t. Not now.
One day I will.

What I chose to talk about is my mother. Lying in her bed at home, fighting against the cancer that was weakening her, thousand miles away from where I was, she helped me pull through!

Yes, my mom had always been the cane whip that cracked on my palms when I’d been a truant. But she has also been the hug that assured me all is well and the world is just as it should be.

There is one gift that mom gave since childhood that has sustained me through the years – The gift of faith and prayer.

Through every bruise big or small, she would say ‘Be at peace. Your porter is molding you’. I screwed up at an important entrance exam. Alone in an alien city, disappointed, I’d called her up. She’d calmed me down by saying ‘You did your best. Now leave the rest to God. Your results will be according to His will’. That’s my mom, for you!

Oh I’ve been away from home for 10 years now. Being a free spirit, regular phone calls home became irregular, long calls turned into short ‘how do you do’. But my mom’s letters filled with love and scripture, kept on coming.

While I was carried into the ambulance, we could speak only for less than a minute on phone. Anxious and in tears, she wasn’t angry, neither was she hysterical. She said ‘Yet, my daughter, I don’t know why it happened but be strong. I know it pains but you will be alright. You are not alone’. I was crying then, more so because of her endearing loving words, than from the pain.

After a miraculous surgery, with rods embedded in my thighs, I was being cared for at a hospital bed. That’s when all kinds of questions bombarded my mind. Grieve, disappointment, anger, hurt were mixed with feelings of relief and gratitude for a second life. There was complete chaos in my mind. I was looking for answers (I still am).
And my biggest question was ‘Why’.

Mom steps in to the rescue, again!
She read to me a scripture verse that said ‘Truly, I tell all of you with certainty, unless a grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies, it remains alone. But if it dies, it produces a lot of grain.’ (John 12:24)

No it did not make sense to me immediately. But I did ponder on this verse.
It dawned upon me that I am the grain of wheat. For a grain of wheat to be fruitful, it needs to be buried into the soil. With sunshine, rain and minerals from the soil, it would spring out to produce more wheat, ensuring a good harvest. In a similar way, my life has been churned, my body remolded and I need to rise up, let go of the self and be a living illustration of ‘grace upon grace’.

Grace upon grace?
My mom defines this as ‘God’s purposes are always God’s enablings’. Which means, when God steers you to strange and uncertain situations, He will keep you very much in the dark about his purposes, but He will not leave you without His grace’.

I understood what this statement meant. I am yet to understand the magnitude of what it entails.

But, with hope springing forth in my heart, I can safely say….

The ‘why’ is now replaced with ‘what if He is making me what I am meant to be?’


Mom, you are right now lying at the hospital bed, weak and fragile, slipping between worlds. They say it’s too late now. Survival is unlikely.Our heart aches for you. We want you to be free of the pain, back to your healthy, cheerful and the so full-of-life woman that you are. We have seen how you’d loved, how you’ve been the anchor for so many people, far and near. We have seen through you, how one’s faith can move mountains.

So with immense confidence and unshakable faith, we know you can fight back!

You can do it, my anchor woman.
I love you.
We all love you.