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The last wish on my bucket list.


Photo courtesy : Harvey Schiller Chateauglenunga 

3.10.2015
     After going through my latest reports even my doctor had  admitted defeat.  He didn't want to scare me with the news ,so he sat next to me and patiently explained the situation . No more chemotherapy could save me.
My days were numbered. I felt a sense of liberation within myself.  This meant  I could spend my last days at home.
     As I stepped out of the hospital, I looked back at the building where I had spent the past six months in pain. I saw my nurse looking back at me sympathetically . I wish I could tell her that I'm genuinely happy to go home. I  was relieved that I wouldn't be in pain anymore. Goodbye to nausea, mouth ulcers and  an aching body.

5.10.2015
Today my husband had covered the huge mirror in our bedroom with a collection of my favourite paintings. He knew how much I hated the mirror these days. I looked like an absolute wreck. My long hair which was once envied by every woman around me was gone. My friends had to spend hours in the parlour to achieve those beach curls while I had them in my genes.
          I realised once you reach a point , you can either get on with this heroic battle or just give up. I chose to get on with it. I realised that my life was only a bit different from the others. Just a tiny bit. I wasn't  scared of death but of time. I wanted to try out things which I have never tried and travel places I had always wished to see. 

19.10 2015
    My husband knew it all . He had stapled the flight tickets inside my diary next to the page where I had written down my bucket list. It was the last thing on my bucket list. And the tickets were to Paris. I'd been dreaming of going there since I was 14. The city of love.

13.11.2015
       We decided to end the last day of our three day Paris trip by attending death Metal Eagle's concert at Bataclan hall. We were dancing to the songs played. The crowd was thoroughly enjoying the show. Suddenly I noticed people running aimlessly in bewilderment. Before I could  understand the situation, my husband pushed me to the floor and wrapped both his arms around me . I hid myself in terror. The smell of blood filled the four walls of the hall.  Gun shots echoing and people screaming .  We laid there till the gun shots were no more heard. As I lay there I could feel my husband's hands becoming stiff.  

6.12.2015
      I wish I could rewind back into that moment. I wish I was the one who jumped over him, wrapping my arm's around him and protecting him. He had a lifetime ahead of him. Mine was already numbered.
      Now here I am crossing out the number of days left for me to join  him in heaven.

This Story is written after the November 2015 Paris Attack. 

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