DOUBLE DISASTERS.

1997 was the worst year in my biography. It might have been a probability that I was unknowingly proud to be a forty-five-year-old father of a 19 year old handsome, brilliant, six-footer son doing third-year Electronics engineering with a high merit seat in one of the high rated Engineering colleges of Kerala.

That pride was short-lived when he was succumbed to demise by road accident by mistake not done by him but by a drunken driver on 14th January 1997. Common people commented it as an effect of the "evil eye". He was that enviable. I was the youngest father, having a son of that age in our Institute at that time. He would have been forty-three, after three months, had he been alive now. I could only make a lip service hypocritically that I was a proud warrior, so can face any disaster. I became feeble-minded incapacitated and inert for some time and was on long leave for recuperation.

It was during this time, that the wife of the formerly BHU professor and presently, Vice-chancellor, was operated on for her tumour in our Institute. A large carcinomatous tumour was removed from her skull. The best Neurosurgeon in the institute operated on her and all best VIP care was given as the VC was our governing body member. She was exceptionally active till few days before the admission. But after surgery, she was in a coma for one month due to many associated problems. There was hardly any hope for survival for one month. The whole institute prayed and strived for her life and she became conscious. But the right side of her body was paralysed and unable to speak as the Broca's area, the speech point of the brain was damaged. The whole institute including the Director was sad. Medications were continued as part of the life-saving protocol. But if ever anything could be done to make her walk, that was by physiotherapy. The Director took it as his responsibility rather than prestige to somehow enable her to walk. So the Director, who visited me two days ago, in connection with my son's demise, called me on phone and requested me to join duty and do something for her. I said, "Sir, my body will not work as my mind is inactive. Please leave me alone". He kept the phone down as he realised my plight.

The same day evening, VC came to my house in his official car. There were some dear and near ones in my house to pay homage, days after the funeral of my son. The V C's eyes were filled with tears, hugged me, and said, "Mr. Vincent, we both are sailing in the same boat. My wife was everything for me same as your son for you...I know that it is cruel, if I tell you to help me, if possible, I beg you. "That serious-looking genius was like a baby lamb, weeping in front of me. I too wept, which relieved my grief too. Imagin the feebleness of any strong human in downfall. I said, "Sir, I will certainly join and look after madam and I will do all that is possible."

My team and I, keeping a burning inferno in my mind worked on her. There were a series of setbacks of postural hypotension, detrimental to proceed a physical manoeuver during the protocol of physiotherapy. However, She was discharged after three months within which she was ambulant with bilateral support. I continued her treatment in their official residence on his request for six more months. This was the period, I got sufficient time to talk to him on various subjects under the sky. That includes medical, literary, political, physiotherapeutic and personal subjects. This interaction shortened the long official distance between us. He became an honest elder brother, although not born to my mother. His wife became fully normal in walking. But her speech was not normal despite long speech therapy. Her speech was limited to monosyllables only as the speech centre was in the brain was damaged. She developed a particular communication style with possible sounds, meaningful expressions and body language, which was comprehensible to V C and four grown-up children. He said once, "I have no problem with her speech. I have learned one more strange language from my wife. She can manage very well my house and outside affairs with that newly acquired skill of speech as she did earlier." All their four children were settled in the USA. She spoke to all her children every day on phone in her strange language. The children also learned her language and lived happily for twelve more years. She was operated on for a massive recurrent carcinoma at the age of eighty and she could not survive and breathed her last.

As regards my life after my son's demise, my remaining two younger daughters, in whom I did not have as much hope as my son, proved beyond my expectation. It may be poetic justice, that they achieved Ph.D. in Engineering from National Institutes and are now Asst. Professors in Engineering colleges of Kerala. But the perpetual haunting of the memories webbed with him in all the Airforce units, the love and pampering of several Airforce uncles showered on him cannot be easily faded away until our last breath.

I hope you remember that I had requested some time in my last episode to discuss with VC to answer his question on the relation between Physiotherapy and English literature. We had more than sufficient time to discuss that question and many of my undissolved abstract ideas of William Shakespeare. He was ready to spend any amount of time with me for any clarification. He said," One thing I assert, Mr. Vincent, you are one among very few, who can transform two incompatible subjects compatible because you are a rare combination of these two entities. It is a rare combination in the present Indian education system".

I am optimistic that the steps are being undertaken to demolish the old conservative education system and allow the system more liberalisation so that any citizen can study anything at any time for a career. The new education policy is awaited shortly.

Thank you