She lay there on the hospital bed kept alive with the help of a ventilator, her face calm and peaceful though pale. She was beautiful, even now…even when the end was near. The doctors had given up hope. The count down had begun.
Outside the ICU friends, family and few of her former lovers were waiting. Contemplating and remorse, each had a story to share. Each praising her NOW! They were talking about her as if she was dead. And why not, she had been dead for sometime now…albeit in bits and pieces.
She was a dancer, an exponent of Kathak and had danced till the day she collapsed. She was just 50. But her heart had aged…had been through a lot of wear and tear…emotionally. She had never compromised on her health and was very disciplined in maintaining her fitness; her art demanded it. Yet she had no control over her feelings. She had given her heart to men who had broken it; eventually…she had been heartsick with love or the lack of it.
But she never let go of a chance of falling in love, which was her folly. She could have guarded her heart, protected it and could have loved herself more. She loved with intensity, every time expecting to be loved back the same way. She would laugh at herself after heartbreak and each time she had died a little. Still, she never gave up on love because that is what she could do well…. love. She was compassionate, caring and a warm person…but everyone – her family, her students and friends took her goodness for granted. They walked all over her, and she did not complain as she could only give. And so, her heart took the toll.
“Stab the body and it heals, but injure the heart and the wound lasts a lifetime.”
― Mineko Iwasaki