RIP My Fighter Friend
My good friend Shri Ashok Das who amazed all of us by fighting a deadly cancer affliction for eighteen long years left us for his heavenly abode on 27th November. The news shattered and devastated his family and his thousands of friends. Somehow we thought this time also, like many earlier times, he will come out of the hospital victorious in his battle against the dreaded disease, a bit weaker in body, but the indomitable spirit unbent, ready to fight for another day.
We were wrong, and we are feeling cheated by fate.
He was one year senior to us in College and used to be in the same hostel as us. A week after we the newcomers checked in and settled into the hostel life with new friends, Ashok babu ambled in to my friend Patnaik's room and greeted us with a broad smile and an unlimited stock of jokes, anecdotes and funny oneliners. For the next fifty years he was a part of the life of his classmates, our batch mates and many others who were fortunate to enter into his ever- widening circle.
A brilliant student, he topped the exam in Political Science in B.A. and M.A., chose to join the Bank of India as an Officer and made new friends there, lifetime loyalty guaranteed and sealed with an ever-endearing smile. There are dozens of stories about how he helped innumerable colleagues and friends in need, never ever flinching from a duty which was a part of the friendship.
In 2000 he was suddenly detected with cancer of the throat. Despite best efforts of the experts at Tata Memorial Hospital, Mumbai, a surgery became unavoidable. That's when his Larynx was partially cut and his voice got affected. From then on he could speak only with a guttural voice. His food intake was regulated and he was advised to take semi-solid and liquid diet as much as possible. The doctors had warned him that cancer is a stealthy customer and might reappear anytime. My friend did not allow that pleasure to the stealthy customer for twelve long years. He had to sacrifice many indulgences. A guy who loves to tell jokes, recount anecdotes with a great gusto, spin yarns with a rare finesse found himself handicapped. He took to Facebook and every evening would post half a dozen miscellaneous gems of great splendour. And in no time there will be at least a hundred likes. It is as if his friends were waiting for his postings to send their likes! There will always be a grand Good Night message with an exquisite picture, sometimes of a Fairy or a dazzling damsel as if Ashok Babu is presenting you the stuff for a sweet dream! Isn't that friends are for?
Six years back his real war with Cancer started, as if the earlier years were a phase of Cold War. Frequent visits to Tata Memorial, Kokilaben Hospital in Mumbai, every year a little piece taken away from his throat, from the mouth and the war continued. I had met him many times during this period. Never ever I found him wallowing in self-pity, never complaining about the raw deal life had dealt him as early as the forty-ninth year of his life.
Unlike some, my friend had been bestowed another rare blessing - a caring, loving, doting family. His smiling face was the brightest when he was photographed with his children and grand children. His wife remained with him like a shadow, as if the dreaded enemy should not find the knight without the assurance of a steady companion. His three daughtes were a rock of support and his son was a modern Shravan Kumar! These were the brave soldiers of the knight in armour in his fight against cancer.
His Facebook postings never showed any helplessness except an occasional prayer to the Gods and Goddessses to help him to survive and fight. But he was gradually losing his grip over the fight. First the postings in Facebook became shorter, sometimes irregular. Finally on 21st October he wrote from the Manipal Hospital in Bangalore "In bad shape friends, unable to text a reply" then an after thought, a testimony to his fighting spirit: "bye for now, till we meet again. I did not mean anything to the contrary....." That was his last message in Facebook till he fell silent.
We still hoped he will win again and we will have him back with us soon. But his enemy won this time, the only consolation is, it never broke his spirit for eighteen long years. Finally it had its revenge. But my friend fought valiantly, perhaps to set an example for others. Yesterday I told his doctor daughter, in the fifty years since I had met him, for me and for many others, there was never another friend like him, nor will there ever be. In the copious tears of the family I could also decipher that few fathers/ grandfathers/ husbands have been as revered as my friend.
I suspect my friend would have lived a few more years, but for some reason a vacancy arose in heaven for a par excellence person whose smiles, jokes, and anecdotes will regale his companions for endless hours. And the master of that abode took him away from us without even an apology for creating an irreparable void! RIP my friend wherever you are, keep smiling. Your fight is over!
And this is the Epitaph you wrote yourself in Facebook:
"A quick wit, a sharp mind,
Some stupid stuff, a witty rhyme,
Here lays a funny man
Who has made us laugh when he can,
And through his humour he can be a pest
This is his plot, so now in peace we rest."
How we wish we could have you back with us my friend, to gently break our peace with your ever-lasting zest!
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