Shampa

It's hard to believe she is no more. No obituaries, not even a mention in the papers. Only yesterday she was there amongst us, smiling her ready smile as always.

Yet another victim of the dreaded disease, that "Empress of All Maladies", cancer.

Shampa, it seems to me had a tragic life now cut short all of a sudden. All who knew her a little or intimately will tell you that in spite of her trials, she was always cheerful, always smiling. In fact, the moment I think of her, I can see a radiant smiling face, like some kind of brilliant heavenly body in full glory. What trials she had endured only those who closely knew her might have known. But she was not the one sit around moping with a long face. She would go about cheerfully smiling, sometimes patiently lending a sympathetic ear to others tales of troubles without a hint of irritation, be there in bad times as well as good, and that is the memory of her I will always cherish.

Behind her charming and benevolent appearance lay a perceptive intellect; that, with an uncommon ability to make others around her feel the good cheer she radiated. Last I knew she had been involved in a project benefiting street children. With her personality, looks and formidable acting skills she might have chosen to be a film actress and be quite a successful in that. The only film she ever acted was a tragedy about the of the despicable practice of Sati or the act of self-immolation by a wife on her husband's funeral pyre practised by Hindus in the past. In Antarjali Jatra (The Voyage Beyond) she was the young woman Yashobati, barely out of her teens, who is washed away by surging waves in the climactic end after a long eventful day awaiting the death and funeral of her octogenarian husband whom she was wedded to in a hurry by her father who thought that the act would bring honour to his poor family.



That was real life in the 19th century. In real life today tragedies occur too but I can't help feeling that there is a common element in it. And that is what makes me angry and helpless at the same time. If I told you that Shampa's cancer was curable, that she did not have to die, would you think so too? It was sometime last year she had an operation. It wasn't such a major thing: a standard procedure I believe for removing an uterine stone. And as standard practice the stone was sent for biopsy. The pathological laboratory reported negative result for cancer and there the matter was settled. Except it wasn't. At a much more advanced stage when she had to be finally shifted to Delhi, it was evident that the pathological report had clearly indicated signs of malignancy. It was staring right in the face of the pathologist. And yet it was overlooked until it was too late ...

That such a thing could happen to anybody is becoming more and more possible. What is the real malaise here? Not cancer, not the disease of the body. Sooner or later there's every chance that one of us may fall victim to some dreadful malady and never recover from it. But with all the modern tools and knowledge, and the results of a laboratories and tests, the disease it seems to me is that of the mind. A combined unwillingness to do any good, make any improvement in the quality of medical care.

I have earlier written about the healthcare in this blog (Healthcare: Hell may care more). Things remain the same, I guess. It's not even a matter of private or public practice any more. It's spirit of the times: wave upon wave of tragedy wash our shores and good people we know are lost to us forever, dying a lonely and horrible death. Of all people Shampa never deserved any of it and there's no consolation.

In the political arena, the leftist government of three decades have been toppled from the seat of power and the new Chief Minister of Bengal, the grassroot party's angry woman of yesteryear is now settling down to face realities of trying to reform a system rotten from within. She has kept the health portfolio herself among other important ones. On the very first week after her assuming power she went on surprise visits to a few state hospitals, wielded her newly acquired power suspending a doctor here, demanding explanations and reports there, her populist persona for once totally grabbing the attention of the local media. Since then, I haven't heard much more about what is going on in the way of reform except an able bureaucrat has been especially transferred from Dellhi to our city to assist the CM in the task of reforming the system. We shall wait and see...


But what's lost is lost. Shampa will never walk the streets again. Never will we have the pleasure of her company in soirées. She was very fond of my niece, she loved children so much. She is no more, I still can't believe it, it's not right. She deserved much, much more, and she had so much more to give. May her memory be with us always just as she was: smiling radiantly with a charm you could not resist.