A friend's 20 something son who has his bright future laid in front of his eyes and a female companion dying to share his life with, was bogged down by what was thought to be a minor ailment. It turned out to be not a minor disturbance at all. Beneath the triviality of its symptoms, lay the possibility of crab like tentacles of the big 'C'!The mood around my friend's household understandably turned sombre overnight. 'Sombre' may be an understatement. Tears seem to be flowing freely, irrespective of age and gender. It is indeed disheartening to see a grown man of any age crying.
Why the crying you may ask?
Is it the fear of the imminent demise of the love one, the baby with whom many a precious moment was spent arguing? The arguing was well intended, though. The older wiser one, with his weather beaten bags full of experiences trying to impart what he had acquired after getting lost in the maze of life. The cry, is it because of the inability to ever, ever to connect, to touch, to grow old together is lost altogether?
After the initial denial, devastation, soul searching and final acceptance, the family, after rejecting mumbo-jumbo kind of shaman advised by well meaning relatives, has decided to go on full throttle crusade against the proliferating intruder with the strongest armamentarium known to mankind - Modern Medicine.
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