On the farthest end of the road,
adorned with the Gulmohar and
bright ochre-coloured flowering
palash trees, stands a haughty
gigantic skyscraper, on a lush
green sprawling landscaped field,
known as the “Cancer Hospital..!”
*
An abominable world is laid out there
Where death manifests its remorseless
face, routinely putting a full stop to
countless, –otherwise happy lives…
*
On the entrance, there’s no threshold
at its huge glass automatic doors
A sea of humanity, -traumatized with
agonisingly crestfallen countenance,
fill up the vast entrance hall,
wherein countless animated bodies
are imprisoned there like hordes of
battle weary prisoners of war…
*
Laden with unbearable weights of
worries, hopelessness; as if they
are carrying heavy sacks of loathful
abominable insects on their shoulders
*
As if, the outcome of all their tainted
deeds of past Karma are manifesting
in the excruciating pain and suffering
The shrouds of self-defeating faith,
an invisible placard of diffidence is
stuck around their necks, gnawing
away the last ray hope of life.
*
All are ailing; yes, sick to their
inner core, in the clutches of
cancer, totally indisposed off,
in the realm of utter despair…
*
Like a group of monks, wandering
around with their clean shaven heads
but not in the quest of Nirvana,
Their loathsum state defines the
precarious condition they are in…
Agony, despair, unbearable pain
Those who have experienced the
vastness of their sufferings are
accompanying them, with the
hope against the hopes to return
to some semblance of normalcy…
*
But some defiant never-say-die
warriors, with their steely resolve
are also there, determined not to be
vanquished, till their last breath…
*
Operating huge, strange and
monstrous machines, are those
operators, –the robotic humans,
wearing gleaming blue outfits,
Dispassionate, detached, but
hardworking like machines…
*
Routinely engaged in their standard
procedures of binding unclothed, barely
fleshy, sick bodies in those machines, as
they keep probing and diagnosing diseases
*
Carnality, debauchery, amorousness and
every perverted emotion is forbidden here —
Every door here reflects a signage to be
followed as gospel: “Entry Prohibited”
*
Donning a white coat wearing a stethoscope
around the neck with nonchalant look in eyes
are supremely experienced skilled doctors
who are bound by oath to serve the humanity
They are not moved, disturbed, or shaken
They have endowed special abilities on
deciphering the pain sensation & symptoms
In their kingdom every patient is an ‘object’
*
People here, are packed to the brim but
apparently no one is connected through
pain or sympathy with each other, as the
adage goes: “Sympathy does not grow
out of fungus-infested seeds of feelings!”
*
Confused life cycles are seen somewhere,
sometimes, with all their strangeness.
*
When a dreaming, self-obsessed nurse
wearing a pink coat is seen, with golden
bangles reaching up to her elbows…
The unfazed ‘will to live’ sweeps away
the dark shadow of this ‘hamlet of
death’ right beneath her feet.
*
The rest of the instincts are playing their
roles scrupulously as everyone is fighting
with his agony, melting in excruciating pain.
*
Every face present is an eyewitness to the
impending death, awaiting for the eternal rest
But, still holding their faith is a pinch of life
in the providential hands of unending hope..!
*
Yes, this is the cancer hospital, with a
conundrum, is it sanatorium or hospice?
The answer remains: it depends on the will to
fight to stay alive or just surrender meekly..!
~ Pravin Raghuvanshi
. 
☆ Ms. Aparna Paranjape ☆
Anonymous Litterateur of social media # 204 (सोशल मीडिया के गुमनाम साहित्यकार # 203) 
The Grey Lights# 59 
