The Why and the What if

Lately I've noticed a behaviour pattern in me that I'm not so proud of. Whenever I see happy pictures of families with small kids similar to age of Ayaan, I feel weird. 

That feeling is a combination of rage (a lot of it), helplessness and sadness. I feel like questioning why I don't look that great, why I always feel the pains in my bones and numbness in my feet, why I can't hold my baby and play with him at length, why I can't go on extensive vacations with my family, why I can't have my locks curled and coloured and folded into a bun, why I have to eat the pills I take everyday, why do I have so many hospital visits, why don't my stitches heal the way they are supposed to, why do I have sleepless nights, why do I look like a 40 year old even when I'm not even 30 yet, why????

I wonder how life would have been if I didn't have cancer. What if we were like any normal couple who had their baby at the right time through natural vaginal birth. What if I still had the same long locks, the same strength in my body, the same youthful skin. What if I was able to carry on with my life, work, motherhood, the same way as people in my family and friends have. What if life wasn't so dark for me.

With each why and each what if, a tear trickles down my cheeks which are no longer chubby and have lost their glow. My mind is wandering if I'd done so bad in this life or even previous to deserve it all? 

I know you'd say that I should think of all the good things I have in life and all the worse things that others have and I don't have. I know that mind trick. I've been tricking my mind for so long using the well honed skill now. After all, you don't get through the stuff I've been through in a short span of time without such cheat treats. You'd probably say how 'all about me' I am. But for a few seconds I don't care you know. I don't want to care. 

I want my share of grief on the things that went wrong, my share of mourning on the fault in our stars, my share of weeping to scream loudly all the whys. 

And as always I know. I know there's no answer to these whys. Perhaps never was, never will be. 

I know I'll clean off the wetness from my face with my hands, settle down with a sigh and lock up the box of the whys somewhere deep, so deep that it doesn't come up soon. So deep that I'm able to walk again with the smile on my face despite the baldness of my scalp, the twist in my knees and pain in my feet. 

Kyunki jeena isi ka naam he... (After all this is what is life)