I entered the room with a box of juice packs only to see her lie down and cry with pain. I looked at her and thought that maybe I interrupted at the wrong time. But, she looked in my eyes and kept weeping. I was followed by a girl who wondered as much as me about her reason behind crying. Maybe, I knew why she was crying, I went ahead and held her hand and said, “Vse budit kharasho.” (everything will be fine). She quickly, in her old painful voice replied, “Ne budit” (It will not be) and grabbed my hand tighter. She couldn’t control but just cry while I was translating what the lady had said to the girl beside me. She got up and sat and unlocked her phone to show her daughter’s pic in the background. Her daughter left her to go to the US. This lady met a car accident later. She kept pointing to her waist and kept saying, “Net doktra” (no doctor). I could see her missing her daughter she raised. She had her daughter’s picture in Bikni on a beach in the US as her phone’s wallpaper, even when she left her to go to the US. In the time of that conversation she kept weeping and unlocking her phone several times to show her daughter’s picture. By this time I couldn’t control but breakdown. She further said, “Ne dengi, ne internet” (No money, no internet in the phone). I kept looking at the calendar with Mother Mary’s picture holding baby Jesus and stood shocked. That picture on the calendar signified a mother’s and child’s love and it was so ironic. I had no idea how to respond because saying Vse budit kharasho was not going to change anything. We were supposed to give only one juice pack to the residents with other fruits and products. But, we smuggled some extra Juice packs in her room and hid them in different places so others can’t see.We had new slippers for her but she was not going to be happy for these materialistic things for she was looking far beyond material. She was looking for love and the least material thing- the human touch.
She kept repeating about missing her daughter and later kissed my hand with teary eyes. Then kissed her rosary while she said something in Russian to bless me. I didn’t know what to say and how to react but she could see me crying too. I went ahead and wiped her tears off the cheeks and she held my hand and kissed it again. All I could say at that time was Vse budit kharasho. I was trying to build up a hope in that lady but I soon realized that it would be such a false hope. Will her daughter ever consider to see her again? I kept saying Vse budit kharasho, while she held my hand and slowly settled the intensity of weeping. Her tears were fading, just like the light of that evening and soon dried like her hopes. I again said Vse budit kharasho and rushed down stairs after saying goodbye to her in absolute tears and couldn’t help crying. I didn’t know what to do. I was so helpless and shocked. Deeply touched. I stood there in the sun while Vaibhav asked me to cool down. I didn’t want to leave from the side of that lady. I wanted to sit and talk to her. Maybe take her for a walk. I don’t know much of Russian but I seemed to understand what she said and I got what her tears meant. Those were not only the tears of she missing her daughter but were also the tears of betrayal by her daughter. I wonder what makes people treat their parents like dirt. What makes them hate their parents so much that they don’t even bother to know where they’re spending the last few days of their life? I have been at unrest and that white, Russian-Kyrgyz Christian lady, who’s name I don’t know will be there in my mind forever. It’s been very long since I prayed but ever since I walked out of that room with absolute heavy heart and mind and tears in my eyes, helpless, I’ve been praying for her. I’ve never experienced such vibes or connection ever before. I’m still touched and moved and don’t know what to write further.
I can’t imagine loving someone, having only one person to lean and rely on only to know they will betray me for their materialistic happiness. Her life seemed like an evening with setting sun. The only difference was that the sky here wasn’t the orange-red sort but was a lot dark. The sun only seemed to be setting with no intention of rising again. What makes me sadder is the fact that I can’t be with her to understand her all the time. But, also, it wasn’t just any other drive out of the town for me. It was drive that took me through the journey of a random lady I had no idea about. In her last days, having survived through life, she could’ve had a lot to talk but her longing for someone loved, her only last person to look upto, her daughter made her repeatedly tell us, “ Doch’ v amerike” (Daughter in America).
“ Touch more. Hug more for someone might need it the most. ”