THE BEAUTIFUL 'DEATH'

“Hey, come on get up!.........get up! Get up!” grinning from ear to ear I yelled at my mother.

“Uhhhhh…….what...time...Is…it..?” she asked, all hazy and puzzled, about to rack down on the bed again.

“Mom! It’s 5 am and we’re already so late!”

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“How can you sleep again mom, get up already!”

Looking daggers at me, she finally got up with a reluctant sigh.

 

It was the 8^th grade, a fresh new year, and the magical season of monsoon had just begun! It was my first ever trip (rather, trek) with my new school, and I couldn’t be any more ecstatic!  I couldn’t go the previous year as I had terribly dislocated my knee and therefore, I was double-excited for this peppy adventure to a ginormous fort this year!

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“KIMAYA! Where are you lost these days……. - “Nowhere mom...” I smiled, grabbed those huge tiffins from my mom and rushed to the door.

“Dear, please take care of yourself. Don’t go anywhere alone, stay with your friends always. In case anything happens, inform your teachers first….” Her blissful love and care was visible in those held-back tears at the brink of her eyes. I looked up at her and smiled wide, “mom, don’t worry. I’ll be super-fine!”

Yes dear…I know that. Enjoy …” she smiled back beautifully and kissed me on the forehead. “Bye mom!” I jumped and waved.

“Bye dear”………

 

It was a colossal fort. Standing tall and erect (at almost a right angle…phew!) at 3560 ft. with powerful wind blustering past it, till our sights could reach.

It was the mighty, Tung fort, and ‘Tung’, meaning difficult, in the name itself!

“Is th-th-that the fort?! Which, we, have to…..climb…up??....!

“Shit!”

It was jaw-dropping gigantic. Plucking up all the courage we had, “let’s do this!” we started our battle with the winds and rocks, with our lives, literally at stake.

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We were drained out, panting and had almost surrendered, as we finally reached the peak. It was surreal. It was a wet day; monsoon was in full throttle, and dumping gallons of water from the skies.

After we had adequately adored the beautiful and mesmerizing nature up there, it was time to feed the rats in our stomach.

 

We were then, done with everything, and it was time for the ‘return journey’. It was terrible, it was scary. Each and every rock was hell-like slippery, and if you do slip off, you’re gone, hundreds and thousands of feet, deep…. deep down the dark valley.

 “God…… Kimaya, what would happen if anyone slipped from here!?” Tanisha, my best friend, asked. “Are you out of your mind? That’s a deep dark valley with almost nothing visible, why would anyone even FALL there!? ……..come on, let’s continue with our work” I replied.

 

I was feeling a bit dizzy. But I ignored it, and resumed, as we had the entire mountain left to descend down, around some 2000 ft. “work, work, work!” I prompted myself.

                                                                                          

“Kimaya, are you okay? You don’t look good. Do you need some water?”  She asked.

“Yeah…umm…….I don’t know….I’m…..fine……”        

I turned hazy. My eyes involuntarily shut. Everything turned pitch black, and I went blank and unconscious. A blackout.

The next moment,

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I had slipped.

Slipped from the mighty cliff, straight into the deep valley. I stared at her, with eyes wide open, pleading for help, as I vanished from her sight. 

I was flipped and tossed in the air and banged on trees and stones. Thorns pierced my face and ruptured my skin, stones hit my body. I was rolling down the valley with sharp stones and thorns sticking in my body, in whichever direction anyone could imagine. I was hammered on a big pointed boulder straight into my back. I was passing through gnarled thorny trees with their branches tearing out skin from my face, hands, legs....and what not, and still falling.

 Every inch of my body was bruised by spear-like stones. My head pummelling through boulders, they cut my head open. My jaw hit on a cornerstone, my hands and legs twisted and twirled aberrantly. And I was still, falling.

My body had drained out. It had given up. I had no sensations whatsoever. Let my body be cut apart and I wouldn’t feel a thing now. I saw the end coming near. I felt my bones breaking, my skin being brutally teared down, my senses fading away and not even a little of life left in me. It was horrible, and survival was not even a chance. And I still… kept... falling.

Life was over. I finally…..closed my eyes….and I gave up.

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I stopped. After around a 2000 feet free-fall, I finally stopped.

My body had left me. My mind had stopped working. No feelings, no emotions, no worry, no pain, no strength. Nothing.

I didn’t know where I was. I didn’t know what was happening with me. I didn’t know if I had anything left with me; my body, my parts, my mind, my brain. I didn’t know whether my systems were functioning. I didn’t know if I’m breathing or not. I didn’t know whether my heart was beating….or not….i didn’t know if I’m alive….. Or….. Not…….

I just lay there, like a corpse.

“______________________________________”

Nothing.

 

 

Still laying there, approximately, 20 minutes passed away…..

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Something…....sparked in me. A little hope. A little, undying hope to live.

I felt myself coming back.my senses were back. It was a new life, it was a new me and a better me. And I wanted to live this one, no matter what.

 

I tried to open my eyes. They were heavy, they had worn-out. I was directly at the foot of the fort, in a dreadful jungle, with terrifying amount of thorns around and stung into me, with no sight of the skies, all alone, with absolutely no way out.

I didn’t know what to do. My body was still not responding to me. It was numb. But I tried to get up, just to collapse on the ground once again. I then…closed my eyes……gathered up all the courage I had lost and somehow managed to get on my feet. Finally I did it.

There was literally a pool of blood beneath me. My clothes were torn. All my belongings were scattered in front of me. My body was unrecognisable. It was crushed, covered in mud. There were slits in my skin and blood gushing out of fissures at places. The thorns, sticking out from my hands and face, like they have been there forever. Blood flowed from my head, down my face like a river. Ugh….

I had to clean my hands, at least. I pulled out almost 15-20 thorns from my hands, and cleaned the blood with some leaves. I suddenly felt something unusual in my mouth. I tried spitting it out. It was my own tongue, snipped into pieces, along with some chipped off teeth, in my hands.

All this, and I felt nothing. No pain anywhere. My body was so numb and senseless.

A lot of time had passed then. Later, I gained a little strength and even tried to climb again. Well, I did many more things, and a lot happened in between. Anyways……. 

45 minutes, I was alone, like a fish out of water, struggling for life.

 

Finally, someone informed the villagers, and somehow, I was rescued. An ambulance took me to the nearby hospital. Finally, the wrestle for life had ended and I just surrendered myself.

 

I had 8 stitches on the slit on my head, 6 on my chin where my jaw had cracked into half. I had my tongue rolled and stitched up, whatever the little of it was remaining. I had all the thorns and stones jammed in my body removed. 4 doctors were thus working on me, performing everything simultaneously in the Operation Theatre. And well, I was all alone…..my parents had been told “ she has just bruised herself a little.”, just for them not to worry too much about me. But well, we all know how mothers are! She sensed something grave. She rushed to Lonavala as soon as possible, and my dad left from Mumbai too. After an hour of battling with huge, thick, horrible needles and scissors and knives and what not, I was then finally shifted to a room where I could have some peaceful rest.

After a while, my parents arrived. I waved happily at my mom, but she……. Just fainted looking at me. I was entirely rolled up in white bandage, which had almost turned red too, with my eyes barely visible.

I couldn’t talk, so I moved my hands and tried to convey that I’m fine, trying hard to smile and looked at her.

She didn’t utter a single word. She just kept crying, and I just kept looking at her…………

Her girl had just returned from the doors of death………

 

The doctors said “more than half the tongue has been brutally cut off. We’re afraid, it won’t grow back. Sorry, but she won’t be able to speak henceforth. Three of her vertebras are cracked apart. She also has some serious cranial injuries. ” They found an unidentified liquid in my kidney. 16 of my teeth were vertically fractured and chipped off as a result of my jaw being hammered on a stone whilst my fall and my spinal cord had been seriously damaged.

My face was unrecognisable, they said. The doctors didn’t even allow me to see myself in the mirror. I had horrible, bloody scars and my face was disfigured, they said. Just so my parents wouldn’t panic, they weren’t allowed to even have a glance at my tongue. Because I didn’t have any. It was cut off. It was gone.

I couldn’t eat solid food, not even semi-solids for around 5 months. I couldn’t talk. Sign language was the only way. I would only struggle and get up for washroom. People would come and visit me every day, but I couldn’t even thank them for that. It was……difficult…..

Anyways…….it’s just too much; all of it won’t be covered here.

But it has been 3 years now! And I’m totally fine. Miraculously, the tongue grew back.it is a cm short, but that’s more than fine. A humongous amount of dental treatment is still left, even after 8 root canals and several surgeries, but it’ll be done in 5-6 years. Back pain has now become an old friend of mine!

But today, I’m super-fine. I can breathe, I can eat, I have a roof over my head, wonderful parents, I have everything. I have a magical new life. I have a newer, better me and I am more than blessed for that.

What more do we want right?!

"Rise above the storm and you'll see the sunshine"

Life has always been wondrous for me. Despite what actually happened till now, life has always blessed me with lessons, courage and most importantly, strength to confront the barricades in life, which I thought are hindering my growth, but actually, became my identity. I tried to turn my wounds into wisdom. Never to suffer would  be never to have been blessed. I’ll always be grateful to my past, as I’m nothing without it. I believe, every exit is an entry somewhere beautiful, and it literally happened in my case.  Whatever I’ve gained from this experience, it’s a lot and it is just magical and exceptional. The 2^nd life has been great since then. Well, it definitely won’t fit here now,

But still, stay tuned for the next one!