novel

Fingers crossed

No Matter the Toss

HEAL WITH ME THROUGH CANCER

CHAPTER 1: INTRODUCTION

When life knocks you down and drags you to rock bottom, ensure your ears are hooked to your rock playlist. Oh, and crank up the volume. – Dad’s Precept Diary

When I was a kid, my father often pushed me to write precepts, brief nuggets of wisdom that he believed could illuminate life's path.

With contagious zeal, he'd declare, "With time it will all make sense. When I am not around, you shall have my precepts diary and I will guide you through it. Even if I am around, it will help you because this diary has all my learnings and you should have your own. All the tumbles and fumbles and how you found your way through it, growing and humble." I often wondered how just a few lines could help me during life’s most trying times. Today, four years later, I opened his precept diary, hoping to find answers to the questions gnawing at my curiosity.

So far, it's evident that life plays by its own rules; it doesn't always adhere to the plans you meticulously craft in your life's blueprint. The universe, in its enigmatic way, unfolds a narrative you never could have anticipated. As I went about my daily errands, lost in my world, I had set unreasonable expectations for myself and the world around me. I had been so relentlessly hard on myself, so unreasonably critical, that I had lost sight of something essential—appreciating not only myself but also every precious gift life had bestowed upon me. I failed to recognize the value of my existence and the richness of the world around me until it was all cruelly snatched away.

After pouring my heart and thoughts into the journal's pages, I pushed myself up from the chair, feeling the weight of exhaustion in my heavy head and weary eyes. My body practically begged for a pick-me-up in the form of a nice, hot cup of tea, something minty and ginger-spiced to revive my spirits. So, I dashed downstairs to the kitchen, whipping up that cup of tea just the way my body craved it – minty with a ginger kick. Out on the balcony, I sipped it slowly, soaking in the nature

show that unfolded, painting a serene picture that was nothing short of eye candy.

The sky donned its beautiful colors, making a captivating cameo that you just couldn't afford to miss. I was completely mesmerized and lost in my thoughts and had a flashback. Not long ago, I stood on the balcony, holding that same cup of tea, savoring it with the enthusiasm of a kid with candy. But the person in that memory? Well, she was a whole different character; I'd say, she was much more confused and living her life on the surface, even though she seemed like she was in a rush to get somewhere, caught in a never-ending race.

It's as if the universe decided to play a game with her, to change her for good, can say. The story of this girl is probably the story of many of you. The things she cried over, her mistakes, her lessons, and her experiences might resonate with you. In a world filled with insincere sympathy, we all yearn to be truly understood by someone. This girl, or my old self to be precise, now only exists in the pages of my journal. She's trapped there, crying, seeking empathy, searching for her whys, thinking

she’s not worthy enough or is not enough to fathom and heal all the wounds of her heart. It took some time for her to realize that all this while, she held the answers to her prayers, or if I may, she was the solution to her riddles.

Let's open that journal and step back to a time when I was standing in the same place on the balcony. Let's start from the get-go and see where she takes herself and you.

(Cracking open that time capsule of a journal) And my phone started buzzing.

CHAPTER 2:

Heaven is nothing but home. – Dad’s Precept Diary

There it was— a call from Ishika. Our profile picture showed us in full-on laughter mode, probably over some absurdly silly thing.

I picked up, already knowing what she was going to say, "Hey, when you're back at the hostel, you've got to hook me up with a killer haircut." She said it like she meant business. "And let's not mess around with our lectures; those exams are just three months away."

I mumbled my agreement, my mind ping-ponging between our conversation and reverie.

If I were to describe a person, Ishika, in brief, she’s the epitome of the generosity of spirit. People like her are an extraordinary rarity. You have unlimited access to full support and entertainment for the rest of your life. The foundation of our bond is so

strong, like a rock in the middle of a storm. We first met in our freshman year of college, and ever since then, we've been joined at the hip. She is my soulmate and a roommate too. YES! You can find your soulmate in friendships as well.

I guess the reason that we just hit it off instantly is that we live by the same principles. We have the same brainwave when it comes to morals and values and we both are hilarious, at least to us and we couldn't care less about what others think. Above all, I know I can count on her wholeheartedly.

The very next moment, I was already in packing mode, tossing essentials into my bag, all set for a quick return to the hostel. There's always this strange feeling that creeps in when I'm about to leave home for my studies. It's amazing how you can deeply adore and miss something, yet simultaneously have this itch to go away for your good. And when you come back, that sense of belonging feels profoundly pure and totally your own. You just know that, no matter what, you can always come back and take shelter beneath its warmth. Now, for you, that could be anyone or

anything. For me, it’s my family, my home – mom, dad, and my young one who by the way decided to look like the elder one because yeah, she’s taller than me.

She'd always tease me about that saying, “Funny how even at twenty-three you have a baby face that looks like 10 years old, it’s hard for anyone to take you seriously with that face.” And she’d give herself a good laugh. Younger- siblings are living proof that you can unconditionally love someone yet wish to beat them up badly after a wild chase. I was nearly done packing my bags when, out of nowhere, a knock echoed through the door. Speak of the devil and here she is, my sister, Bhumi, showing up like she read my mind!

She stormed into my room, clutching packets of chips and a chilled can of cold coffee, instantly making herself at home. She was wearing my blue tee she'd sneakily swiped from my closet when I was out, something I'd never have allowed otherwise.

And started yapping about how on the way to the grocery shopping with Mom, who had initially

planned to buy just a few things but somehow ended up with twenty extra items in the cart. She was fuming about it and even vented her frustration at Bhumi on the way home for being impatient. But I don’t blame Bhumi, my mom can be difficult sometimes only while shopping otherwise she’s the nicest person and too good for this world.

"You're leaving today, right?" Bhumi inquired. "Just make sure you're not taking any of my clothes with you. You always sneak them away, and I end up searching for my stuff. And one day, I'll stumble upon your post on Instagram, and there'll be my jeans," she warned, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.

I smiled a little because she was right and I was planning to take one of her tees with me, but I am going to take it anyway. I love to piss her off.

“Also, there’s this girl in my college who’s incredibly annoying. Honestly, the whole college gets on my nerves, and I can’t stand it. She started going on about how she and her boyfriend fight over trivial things and how cute it is. If I were at

her place, I’d lose it over that so-called ‘cuteness’. I had to take some deep, calming breaths to prevent myself from screaming right in her face. Stupid people.” she grumbled loudly.

I listen to her rant as I finish packing and close the zip of my bag. A random thought comes to my mind - I need to plan a trip with my roommates to someplace nice. My sister is still yapping about her college and how she can’t stand it, but my thoughts were consumed by how to convince my roommates to go on a trip. Of course, they'd be interested, but getting them to agree on anything was always a bit of a challenge. We had exams looming just three months away, so planning it now seemed somewhat pointless. However, I was determined to make it happen. After all, we wouldn't all be in the same city forever. In a year or two, who knew where we'd end up – different cities, maybe even different countries for work. I knew I had to make this year count. With that in mind, I dragged my bags downstairs, knowing I had to head to my hostel in the next three hours.

“What will you have for supper?” Mom asked.

“I’ll have something light, a sandwich or rice maybe?” I replied confusingly.

"Make sure you take care of yourself over there, eat well, get some exercise, and most importantly, stop using earphones while driving, and..." Mom began, giving me her list of guidelines.

I interrupted her, rolling my eyes and saying, “I know Mom! Don’t worry, I will be good, I promise.”

I really should do something about my habit of cranking up the volume on my earphones while driving. I've noticed a slight ache in my left ear, probably because of that, but I haven't mentioned it to anyone. It's not too bad, so I've just been ignoring it.

Dad on his way back home, brought back a load of snacks for me. I packed them in my bag and hugged everyone as I prepared to head out. My mom had tears in her eyes, and she always gets emotional when I leave home for my Studies.

But this time, something felt off. As I left, I was filled with a lot of anxiety. I tried to convince myself that it was probably because I hadn't left

home for a long time, which was making me feel this way.

However, looking back, I realize it was a sign.

Dad came to drop me off at the station. The hostel is ten hours away from home and I prefer the night journey most of the time. I kept my luggage under the seat and went to the gate as the train started to leave to say goodbye. I came back inside, assembled my blanket and everything on the birth, and went to sleep with a happy and excited feeling in my heart.

I woke up the next morning with the warmth of the sunshine coming from the train’s window. On the way from the station to the hostel is my favourite road, covered with bushes the trees, listening to my playlist. There was a lot of calmness in my head and heart, nature has that power.

CHAPTER 3:

If time morphs in its cryptic way, be a Chameleon.

I reached the hostel in the morning and called Ishika for help with getting my luggage upstairs. The moment she spotted me, she rushed over and enveloped me in a tight hug.

"Thank goodness you're back! I was getting so hungry that I even called Vaya to find out when she'd be back at the hostel so we could have breakfast together," Ishika exclaimed.

“It feels so good to be back. It's been so long since the three of us were together. I can't even recall the last time we hung out. I wonder what Vaya has been up to all this time," I mused.

“I did not hear much from Vaya. We were definitely in touch but only on WhatsApp. I miss her.” Said Ishika.

“Yeah same, me too.” I agreed.

Vaya and I are like partners in crime. We share similar interests when it comes to having fun and have a knack for bringing out each other's obscene

sides. I first met Vaya in extra classes but after a year we became roommates. Our favorite pastime was exploring new food joints, all ready to eat our weight in food. I can still vividly recall the day I first met Vaya. The classroom was crowded with a hundred unfamiliar faces, and the rooms seemed vast. It was my first time away from home, and uncertainty would strike at random moments, filling me with anxiety. I found myself perched on the front row, battling my nervousness when I noticed a hand enthusiastically waving at me, accompanied by a broad, welcoming smile. It was Vaya, inviting me to sit beside her, and it instantly eased my worries. She has been my savior since then. Classes would’ve been an impossible task without her.

Ishika, Vaya, and I - our trio felt like a second home to us. We were inseparable, looking out for each other, studying together, and occasionally getting on each other's nerves.

"Hey!" came a voice from behind as we made our way up the stairs. It was Vaya, the missing third piece of our beautiful puzzle. Curly hair, brown eyes, and a smile on her face. If I were to

metaphorically describe us, both Ishika and Vaya would be like golden retrievers, all sunshine and sunflowers, true extroverts who excel in expressing themselves. Meanwhile, I'd be more like a chunky cat or a cactus – cute but ouch, usually introverted and selectively extroverted.

As we kept the luggage in our room, the next moment we were sitting in an aesthetic café, having our go-to breakfast: Bun-Maska paired with a steaming cup of tea. The café had a charming ambiance, and every bite and sip felt just right. And it strikes me that this is the right time to talk about the thought that was lingering around my head for so long.

“Here’s what I think. Once we are done with our exams, let’s take a trip together”, I said excitedly.

“Great idea, let’s just go in a group. You can ask your cousins too”, Vaya said to Ishika.

“Yes, and you can ask Jim if he’d be interested”, said Ishika.

“Yes! I’ll convince him but I don’t think he’s going to turn it down”, I said while pressing my left ear as it was slightly aching again.

It's been a few months since I started dating Jim. I've been lucky to have found a guy like him in a world full of hookup culture and casual dating. Our generation’s dating culture is trash, he’s just a golden trash. This line sums up our bond perfectly. We can roast each other, test each other's patience, and then simply head out for a great meal, leaving any grudges behind. And I think that’s how it should be.

I texted Jim, throwing out a casual invite, "Up for a trip? We haven't settled on a destination yet, but there should be about 7-8 of us. Should be a blast.”

Jim read the message and got back to me in about 2 minutes, with a simple "Count me in."

I shared Jim's confirmation with Ishika and Vaya and a few more thumbs-ups came in.

After our wholesome and filling breakfast, we strolled out of the café. I reached into my pocket, pulled out my earphone case, and popped one earphone into my right ear, enjoying my ride back to the hostel.

I was feeling tired somehow, maybe because of the traveling, and I wasn’t regular with my workout as well. I knew I needed to hit the gym today to kick away the lethargy that was hitting me. I have been health-conscious for as long as I can remember. I always worried about the shape that I was in. Constantly beat myself up, if I’d gain a few extra kgs. From dealing with childhood bullies to navigating the lingering insecurities as I grew up, I became the highest critic of myself.

"Why can't we just stay kids forever?" I pondered quietly, reminiscing about some cherished moments from my childhood. During those years, we lived within our bubble, blissfully oblivious to the complexities of the universe.

However, the bubble burst with the blaring horns of passing cars as we made our way back to the hostel. Suddenly, I became acutely aware of my surroundings and the ache in my ear.

As I reached the hostel, it instantly gave me the feeling of home. The small, snug room was cramped for three people and their clothes, but it held a certain tranquility. Despite its snugness, the

room featured three windows that offered views of lush greenery and allowed the cheerful melodies of chirping birds to filter in. We had this peculiar thing where we'd chat with the bird outside our window by mimicking its chirps, convinced that it could understand us and would respond with even more enthusiastic chirping.

Vaya and I began unpacking our bags and organizing our respective sections. As I delved into the task, I stumbled upon a baby picture of myself. In that snapshot, I was a mere two or three years old, cradled in my dad's arms, sporting a grin so wide it looked as if someone had wedged a coat hanger in my mouth.

Since as far back as my memory stretches, growing up amidst the ever-changing landscape of life, I've absorbed a fundamental truth down to my very core: the importance of self-reliance. Not just the financial kind, mind you, but the emotional kind as well. This philosophy instilled in me an insatiable drive, not for the applause of the world, but to prove it to the most demanding critic of all – myself. It's like having a perpetual zest for self-affirmation, a rush to validate my capabilities, a

quest for personal triumph, all wrapped up in a neat little package of independence.

Seeing that innocent, carefree smile made me ponder – where did that carefree baby disappear to? When did I start caring so much about the world and its opinions that I forgot to care about myself? When did I sign up for this relentless race to secure a job in my twenties, maintain a perfect physique, and accumulate higher degrees, all within society's designated timeline?

I was unhappy because I had been trying too hard to fit into these norms. In my twenties, I found myself jobless, financially reliant on my parents, and still pursuing a degree whose ultimate destination in life remained uncertain.

Amidst the chaotic jumble of thoughts in my head, I decided to tackle the mess of clothes and stuff cluttering my cupboard. Gym time was looming, and even though I wasn't particularly feeling up to it, I mustered the willpower to show up. After some warm-up and core exercises, a nagging strain crept into my upper left back, swiftly followed by a

sharp pain. I turned to my coach, pleading for stretches to alleviate the discomfort, but to no avail. The pain persisted, so I made my way to a local doctor, who swiftly diagnosed it as a mild strain from an exercise gone wrong. A few painkillers managed to dull the ache, and although I still felt a bit worn out, I convinced myself it was just because I hadn't worked out in a while. So, I resolved to continue with my daily half-hour workouts.

Post-gym escapade, I gave Kyra a ring to fill her in on my gym mishap. She suggested some stretching exercises, and our conversation meandered into random territories. I've known Kyra since the school days, and I can still vividly recall our first encounter. It was the seventh grade, and we were both new to the school. I'd been through some tough times with a teacher in my previous school during sixth grade, so my parents decided it was time for a change. On that fateful first day, I walked into the classroom to find Kyra sitting at the teacher's desk, sizing up everyone who entered like a hawk. Like any good story, we've had our fair share of ups and downs over the past

10 years. From supporting each other through the most naïve decisions to weathering the consequences of our actions and learning from our mistakes, we've been through it all.

Thinking back on those school days brings a weird mix of happiness and nostalgia. Waking up in the morning, neatly plaiting our hair and donning our uniforms, scribbling notes behind our textbooks during lectures, belting out a loud and boisterous "good morning Ma’aaaaam", sneakily pulling someone's chair from under them and then collapsing in giggles, only to face the wrath of the teacher, or occasionally being sent out of the classroom. Annual days, sports days, carnival days, celebrating every little occasion, and then suddenly realizing as school ended that those days would never return. I can still recall, and it's rather funny, how Kyra and I used to sneak into the bathroom to shed a few tears over the impending end of our school days, only to put on cool faces once we returned to class. Adi and I became tighter than ever post-school, but the escapades we had back in our school days – those memories

are something else, you know? They're like a treasure trove of good vibes and nostalgia that can't be recreated. It's the kind of stuff that makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, like a cozy hug from your past. Whenever I needed practical advice or a dose of brutal honesty, Adi was the go-to person. Having people who would hold up a mirror to show you the unvarnished truth, no matter how brutal, is essential.

But life takes a dramatic turn after school, and we evolve as individuals. We've witnessed each other's growth. There were times when we couldn't be there for each other during the worst of times due to work or studies, given our different fields, but we always managed to find a way to connect, even if it was just for half an hour or ten minutes. We've truly been through it all.

As Kyra and I chatted away, I didn't even realize that a couple of hours had slipped by. The pain in my back still lingered, despite the medications. I chose to ignore it. The exams were coming closer, so I was much more focused on my preparations. I

went to the library after having a cup of coffee. Ishika and Vaya were already there. So, I joined them.

Later I got a text from Jim. I had a date with him the next day. I was going to see him after so many days.

“I have a surprise for you”, read his last message.

CHAPTER- 4

When your own is in pain, how to be their aid?

The next morning, I joined Jim for breakfast at our beloved South Indian eatery, where we indulged in some mouthwatering Podi Idli. For the uninitiated, 'Podi' is this delectable spice blend that they serve with a generous drizzle of ghee, alongside idli, and accompanied by chutney and sambar on the side. It's been our breakfast ritual ever since. Of course, after breakfast, we couldn't resist the allure of a hot cup of tea. So, we grabbed some takeaway tea and strolled down the street. This particular road was like a painting – picturesque and exuding tranquility. We walked a fair distance, and as fatigue set in, I couldn't hold back my curiosity any longer. I prodded Jim about the surprise. And, that's when he whipped out two tickets to a music concert, featuring his all-time favorite band, set to hit the city in just a month's time. I was very excited, as it would be my first ever experience of attending a live music concert.

But before attending that, I’d a month’s time to cover the major chunk of my studies for exams so I could enjoy the concert guilt-free.

There were a lot of things happening this month. We needed to plan for Ishika's birthday, but there was a small hiccup – she had fallen sick with a viral cough. I hoped she'd get better before her big day. Actually, for the trip we had in mind, Vaya and I decided to surprise her by setting up a beautiful hillside decor, providing a panoramic view of the entire city along with a stunning sunset to make it a picture-perfect moment. To get things rolling, we had to fetch a bunch of stuff today.

By the afternoon, I was already feeling a bit worn out, and the nagging upper back pain kept poking at me. But you know how it is; we often choose to ignore those warning signs. So, Vaya and I went to the local general store mall to buy everything we needed for the birthday decoration, and we even convinced her cousin to pitch in. By the time we got back to the hostel, having survived the day, we were utterly drained. You know, there are days when you work so hard that it feels like sleep's gone on a vacation, and doesn't come to visit at night. I was battling fatigue, and the painkillers I'd taken earlier were my best friends at that point. The doctor had assured me that the pain would ease as I finished the medication course, and she was right. The next morning, I woke up feeling considerably better.

So, in the morning, Vaya, Ishika, and I decided to head to our favorite spot near the hostel. There's this scenic hill where we often go to catch some fresh air, and the view from there is simply breathtaking. Today was extra special because, while we were there, we met an uncle who had three adorable dogs. These furry pals were so endearing that we couldn't resist playing with them, and taking loads of pictures. The surprising part was that these three doggos were incredibly well-trained, posing for every photo as if they were seasoned supermodels. It reminded me of Milo. Milo's the reason I grew to love dogs; otherwise, I used to be quite wary of them. I can still vividly recall the very first-time Ishika introduced me to Milo, the furry resident of her sister's house. Whenever we found ourselves in the clutches of homesickness, we knew where to find solace – her sister's place and Milo was the ultimate remedy. So, on one fine day, the three of us embarked on a visit for a hearty meal. Now, let me set the stage for you. It appeared that Milo had been taken out for a leisurely stroll prior to our arrival. As we gathered around the dining table, eagerly digging into our meal, our unsuspecting companion returned from his walk. At this point, I must emphasize that Milo was no ordinary dog. Hyperactive would be an understatement. And during those days, I happened to be particularly apprehensive about our four-legged friends. You know the type of dogs

I'm talking about, right? Those enthusiastic furballs that can't wait to shower you with their love, often charging at you, barking with unwavering zeal, and demanding copious amounts of attention. Well, Milo was the poster pup for this breed of boundless enthusiasm. Milo sprinted toward me, barking like there was no tomorrow. I, mistakenly thinking that Milo was furious with me, made a run for it, still clutching my meal. I dashed off in fear, and Milo chased me, barking all the way. Ishika and Vaya joined in the chase. Eventually, it became clear that all Milo wanted was to sniff me and say hello. So, I stopped running, and we hit it off. From that day forward, I was no longer scared of dogs. It was a hilarious first meeting between me and Milo, a memory that still makes us laugh when we talk about it.

As we descended from the hill, we sat down for breakfast, basking in the tranquil atmosphere. I have this habit of returning to nature every now and then. We have a beautiful connection with nature. Nature is content with its own being, neither desiring too much nor too little. It encompasses both light and darkness. There's no right or wrong in nature; things simply exist and evolve with time. We're no different; we just need to learn to give things some time.

After breakfast, we headed to the library. We were planning to leave tomorrow for our two-day trip. Vaya, Ishika's cousin, and I set out early because we had to go to the birthday decoration spot first to prepare for Ishika's surprise. But before we even set off, I also caught a viral cough. Just when the upper back pain was easing, the cough kicked in. The location we had chosen for the birthday surprise was so stunning that on one side, you'd see all the hills, and on the other, the city lights. As the sun set behind the hills, you'd get a breathtaking view, and along with it, the city lights would begin to twinkle. It was quite chilly there, and my cough worsened.

I knew I'd need to see a local doctor once I got back from our trip. Despite that, we had a fantastic time during our journey. Ishika's birthday surprise unfolded exactly as we had planned. As soon as we returned, I booked an appointment with a doctor who diagnosed me with a viral cough. I completed the prescribed course of medicines, although it didn't provide much relief for my cough.

On the way back to my hostel, I received a call from Bhumi, informing me that I might need to be at home with her. My parents were about to embark on a trip to Bali with their friends, and since Bhumi would be home alone, she needed me to be there. I considered getting checked by our family doctor since I was going home.

Dad arranged the train ticket reservation for me as I would be leaving for home in two days. I was going to spend a week at home because my mother had her monthly checkup scheduled. My parents decided to have her checkup done immediately upon their return from the trip. I, on the other hand, was quite anxious because her routine checkup was related to her past battle with cancer.

Three years ago, my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer, and it was the toughest and most bewildering period in my life. Many things have stabilized in my mind with time, but when you have to go through situations where there's a fear that you might lose a loved one, that fear, disbelief, confusion, and the feeling of helplessness are truly indescribable. You're left not knowing what to do or say.

To cope with my anxiety, I reached out to Adi because she had been through a similar situation. Her mother is also a cancer survivor, and I had seen Adi go through that challenging period back in school. She never really spoke about anything related to that matter, but I believed that she would understand what I was going through better than anyone else. As we conversed, I realized that the situation was strikingly similar to one where we were initially kept in the dark, only to discover it later. I came to know about it when I saw my mother's hair falling out, and then I stumbled upon one of the reports, which

revealed to me, to a significant extent, it’s cancer. The same thing happened with Adi. I distinctly remember how hard it was to believe, and I couldn't find the words to express my thoughts. All that raced through my mind was a simple question: why? (some lessons you’ve learned along the way, how your family dealt w it, past tense, something to be underlined)

Since then, I used to be a bit anxious about my mom's regular checkups. However, she has made an incredible recovery in the past two years, so I wasn't that worried this time. As I was conversing with Adi, I noticed that my cough had worsened. I found myself coughing every five minutes, and Ishika was going through the same ordeal. Therefore, before leaving for home, I borrowed some cough medicine from her.

Vaya came to drop me off at the station, and on our way, we stopped at a café for a coffee break. I ordered a delightful blend of hazelnut and coffee with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. It tasted heavenly, but my stomach didn't agree. As I headed back home, I kept throwing up due to my rebellious stomach, and by the time I reached home in the morning, I was feeling sick.

My mom promptly took me to our family doctor, who confirmed that he had been seeing a lot of patients lately with cough complaints. The fatigue I was experiencing was attributed to the cough. While I was at home, my

mom generously dispensed various home remedies for cough relief. They did help alleviate the pain I felt in my throat from coughing so forcefully.

The pain in my upper left back also reared its head, and this time, it was so severe that I had to resort to painkiller injections. According to the doctor, I had a calcium deficiency, which was prolonging the healing process of the muscle I had injured during my workout. It eventually healed after completing the course of medications, or so I thought.

The cough was proving to be a persistent nuisance. It would temporarily subside during medication but return once the course was completed. So, I sought a second opinion from another doctor, who diagnosed it as a viral cough. I was told not to worry too much about it, as it was a common issue due to the changing weather, affecting nearly every third person. The remedy was to complete the prescribed medicine doses, and the cough would eventually subside. However, the medication suppressed the cough only temporarily, and during a follow-up, the doctor added an inhaler to my treatment. Upon returning home from the hospital, I felt utterly drained, and the fatigue had firmly taken hold. However, my weariness was soon replaced by a call from Dad, who delivered the heartening news that my mom's reports were all clear, and they would be returning home the next day. It was a relief to hear.

Throughout the week, Bhumi and I had a great time. If we put my pesky cough aside, everything else was pure fun. We ventured out, explored new food joints, engaged in good-natured spats over the last bite like every other sibling, and even had a disco light dance-off at home. To avoid getting into trouble when Mom and Dad came back, we quickly cleaned the entire house and made sure there were no signs of our adventures in eating out. It was all in good spirits. Mom and Dad came back the next day and I was leaving for the hostel on the same day.

As I was preparing to depart, I stepped into the restroom to freshen up a bit. However, just as I thought things were settling down, a violent bout of coughing seized me, and this time, something alarming happened—I coughed up blood.

CHAPTER- 5

When I returned to the hostel, I made another appointment with the doctor, and he reassured me that the blood in my cough might have occurred due to forceful coughing. He advised me to continue with the prescribed medicines and the inhaler. After completing the course of medication, my symptoms improved, but the cough returned the next day. Frustrated with the recurring cough, I decided to consult a different doctor. To my surprise, the new doctor also diagnosed it as a viral cough but adjusted the medication course. With multiple doctors confirming it was viral, I chose to no longer fret over it.

After getting ready, I headed to the concert with Jim. The concert turned out to be an incredible experience. I sang along to the songs, not caring about my less-than-melodic voice. The lights, the band, the confetti, and the sight of everyone's hands in the air created a perfect scene. However, as the concert drew to a close, I was so exhausted that I found a quiet corner to sit in before the event was over. My body was overcome with fatigue, and all I wanted was to get home quickly and sleep. I got back home, took a painkiller, and quickly fell asleep. All this while, I continued my regular workouts, spending over a month consistently exercising at the gym or through

brisk walks. My aim was to build strength in my body, but surprisingly, I started feeling more fatigued after each workout, sometimes even experiencing breathlessness. Climbing the stairs to the hostel felt as strenuous as running a marathon. Thinking that yoga might offer a solution, I gave it a try for fifteen days. Unfortunately, the fatigue and cough persisted, and the pain in my upper left back began to intensify. It felt as though the pain was radiating through my left arm. I couldn't sleep the entire night, and any attempt to eat resulted in severe coughing, occasionally leading to vomiting.

At this point, I decided it was time to consult specialists at a renowned hospital rather than local doctors. The next day, I found myself alone without Ishika, who had gone home for some errands, and Vaya was also unavailable. I made my way to the hospital, my cough worsening with every passing minute. In the hospital, I underwent various medical procedures and waited anxiously with an appointment slip in hand. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, my turn arrived. The doctor conducted a spirometry test, which revealed that my lung function was operating at only 20%. The doctor suspected some form of lung infection and even raised concerns about COPD, although it was not confirmed. He diagnosed me with a severe obstruction and prescribed a 15-day course of medication. He also suggested a CT scan after 15 days to get a more comprehensive view.

I called my dad to reassure him and told him not to worry, emphasizing that I had my studies to focus on and that I believed things would improve as I completed the medication course. However, my mom wasn't satisfied with this decision. She scolded me and insisted that I return home immediately. She wanted me to receive a thorough evaluation in our hometown, recover completely, and only then return to my hostel. So, I decided to return home.

During the train ride home, I had a restless night, experiencing persistent fatigue, a headache, and a body ache. I was unable to sleep, and I called my dad around midnight. Despite the late hour, my dad managed to arrange for the necessary medicines to be delivered to me at an unknown train station where my journey had a brief stop. The next morning my parents picked me up from the station.

As we hurried to our family doctor with the spirometry test reports and the prescribed medicines, he expressed some doubts about the diagnosis. To clarify the situation, he recommended further tests and an X-ray. When the X-ray results came in, the doctor called my dad and suggested a CT scan because the left side of the lung wasn't visible in the x-ray. On the same day, we underwent the CT scan, and when we returned to the main doctor with the results, he asked me to wait outside while inviting only my dad in. At that moment, I

sensed that something was wrong. When my dad came out, he was teary-eyed, and when I inquired, he didn't say much. As we returned home, my mom pressed my dad for details, and he revealed that there was a tumor in my left lung, and the doctor thought it was pretty serious. We were advised to go to the best hospital possible.

My parents were in tears, and even Bhumi was scared. I, on the other hand, had no idea what was going on but could hear my parents crying as I stood outside the room, trying to eavesdrop a little. Personally, I didn't feel it was that serious, but there was nervousness until we reached the hospital, which was 10 hours away from our home. My health was deteriorating; I couldn't eat anything and was throwing up every hour. Doctors gave me painkiller injections so I could endure the 10-hour journey to the hospital. Unfortunately, the injections didn't seem to help, and even our train got delayed by 5 hours.

Somehow, we reached the hospital in the morning. It was New Year's when my life turned upside down, and I had no idea what to expect. I was admitted to the hospital for the next twelve days.

Chapter- 6

Life has a way of throwing random lemons at you, and it can take some time to figure out what to do with them. Something quite similar occurred in my life, except instead of lemons, I was handed cancer. A few days ago, I was having an absolute blast on a trip, dancing and screaming my heart out at a concert, with those hip wristbands they hand out. But in the blink of an eye, I found myself in a hospital bed, facing a rare and uninvited guest

– lung cancer, that too of a rare type. This time, there were no cool wristbands, just the sterile ones, hospitals give out.

The reasons for why I ended up with it are still a mystery, and I guess they'll forever remain that way. I can still vividly recall the moment when the doctors walked into the room and dropped the bombshell, "We need to kick off chemotherapy as soon as possible." All I could do was stare at that wristband on my hand, thinking, "Huh?" because it hit me so suddenly. It took me a while to wrap my head around everything, to get my thoughts

straight. For two months, I'd been told by several doctors that my persistent cough was just a viral thing and that nagging pain in my upper left back was dismissed as a strain due to calcium deficiency. Oh, and the earache in my left ear had nothing to do with those headphones. Turns out, all along, it was Cancer.

The doctors stepped outside and started talking to my dad, but I didn't bother to ask what they were saying. My mom was terrified and just kept crying and praying. Perhaps it's because she'd been down this road before, enduring the pain herself three years ago. Now, knowing her daughter would have to face it too, was shattering her heart.

On the other hand, I felt a wave of overwhelming emotions because I thought I was about to lose everything with this treatment. I feared falling behind everyone else, unable to achieve my goals within the expected timeline, and that was a tough pill to swallow. Cancer didn’t even cross my mind at first; I was convinced it wasn’t that serious and I’d bounce back to my normal life in six months or a year.

But it hit me like a ton of bricks, and I began to feel anxious about the prospect of losing it all—my hair, my exams, and in my frustration, maybe even friends and relationships. I began to overthink everything, and it became overwhelming. When I saw my dad, I hugged him tightly and burst into tears, unable to hold back. He was crying too, a sight I’d never seen before. My career was my concern; I was already running late, and now with treatment in the picture, I feared I wouldn’t be able to take my exams. The life I had when I was away from home in a hostel, wondering if I’d ever get it back, gnawed at me from within.

It came as a shock to everyone. Even after pouring my heart out to my parents, I still felt this immense weight on my chest, as if someone had placed a huge boulder there. So, I instinctively reached for my phone and found messages from Ishika, Kyra, Jim, Adi, and Vaya.

Ishika texted, “This is so sudden, are you okay?”

I replied, almost on the verge of tears, “No, I’m not okay, but I will be.”

Ishika continued texting, “Listen to me now, no matter what it is, I’m here for you always. You’ll get through this, and one day, you’ll write a book about how you overcame it. I’m one hundred percent sure.”

Tears welled up in my eyes, and I struggled to find the words to respond. I did not doubt that Ishika would always be there for me, but I had my doubts about the book part. Here I was, still processing the cancer diagnosis, and it would take time. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to write a book; just getting through it was enough.

Ishika passed me Vaya's message too. I couldn't reach Vaya since she was abroad with her family on vacation. Her message read, "I am coming to see you as soon as I get home, miss you." I missed Vaya.

Shortly after, I received a video call from Bhumi. She was home alone, and it was evident she was trying to hold back tears. I didn't say anything right away, and she eventually shared that Kyra had come to visit her, bringing sandwiches. Just having Kyra there made her feel better and alleviated her

anxiety. I couldn't have been more thankful for that.

I felt an overwhelming urge to cry, but I didn't want to do it in front of Mom and Dad. So, I slipped into the bathroom, stared at myself in the mirror, and contemplated how I would look without hair. I was more concerned about losing my hair at that moment, completely unaware of the pain that chemotherapy would bring. If I had known, I would have realized how trivial my worries about baldness were.

Then, I received a notification from Jim that said, “Are you there? Whatever it is, just let it out.”

It struck me that Jim and I had only recently started dating, and it had only been five months. It was clear that it would take some time for me to return to the hostel, and with the treatment and everything, I wouldn’t be able to see him. It would be a long-distance relationship, and whenever we discussed it, we concluded that there was no point in continuing a long-distance relationship for an

uncertain period. So, we both agreed that if we ever ended up in different places with no idea when we’d be in the same city again, it would be better to end things on a positive note. Maybe that was it.

"I don't know. It's a lot to process, and I have no idea when I'll be back. The whole situation is just so uncertain. I can't be selfish enough to ask you to stay. Also, I don't want to give you any false hope that I'll return soon. To be honest, I'm terrified of losing you in this process. I'm not pushing you away, and I don't know how you'll react, but I couldn’t keep it from you," I replied to Jim, tears streaming down my face, without hesitation.

"I understand," Jim replied.

I continued typing, "Everything happened so suddenly. I'm confused, and I have no clue what I should do.”

Jim’s response came swiftly, almost as if he had already known what to say. He replied, “Let’s get this crystal clear. I’m scared, probably more than you are. And if you’re searching for reasons why I might feel down, it’s not even one percent because I’m concerned about where this will take us or our relationship. Whether it takes you months or a year, whether we end up together or not, whether you see me as your boyfriend, friend, brother, or customer service, the point is I genuinely am not concerned. One thing I’m certain of is that I’m here with you. I’m not leaving you alone in this. And I’m not doing this out of guilt, duty, or some relationship label; I’m doing it because I want to stay. I know you’ve got a lot on your plate right now, but I don’t want you to worry about me. Even if you can’t talk to me for a day or two due to treatment, I’ll be right here, waiting, and I won’t leave, no matter what. Why are you even thinking in that direction?”

“Because I’m afraid I’ll end up losing everything,” I replied, my tears flowing.

Jim reassured me, saying, “Here’s one thing I can promise. I won’t promise there won’t be

arguments or that I’ll always be available, but regardless of whether the world stays or walks away, I’ll stand by your side. Period.

Chapter 7

I was quite relieved after that. But still, thoughts kept flowing into my head so fast that I couldn’t think straight. So, I decided to sleep over it.

I was not scared of the diagnosis because three years back I saw my mother go through cancer and that was more difficult, so I thought if she can recover completely, I will be fine. I was worried that I will lack behind.

I was so preoccupied with worrying about the wrong things that I failed to grasp the one thing that truly mattered – my health.

The entire process of being diagnosed with cancer, going through biopsies, and everything in between had me on edge. The biopsy was especially nerve-wracking. The doctor was about to give local anesthesia, and before he even started, I burst into tears out of fear. Looking back, that was probably the easiest part of the whole ordeal. The only time I teared up during any of the procedures was because, from then on, I mentally toughened

myself for whatever was on the horizon. I steeled myself for whatever challenges lay ahead, and once I did that, things became a bit easier because I was mentally prepared, there was a lot of nervousness throughout but I knew that I will get through.

It was the moment when I first realized that we often make things seem more daunting in our minds than they truly are. We tend to overcomplicate things mentally when we can simplify them.

Doctors had doubts that it was cancer even before the biopsy. They asked me questions like if I heard wheezing sounds while breathing, if I felt breathless, or if I coughed up blood. My answer was "Yes" to all of their questions. Biopsy results would take two to three days to come out. Those three days are etched in my memory. I was still chilling, watching TV, eating whatever junk and delicious food I wanted. The hospital was good in that way.

There was nagging anxiety and a strange overwhelming feeling in my chest. I couldn't

exactly pinpoint the reasons, but I guess I was worried about the results. As soon as they came out, doctors decided to start chemotherapy. But before that, they needed to fit a PICC line in my right hand. A PICC line, which stands for Peripherally Inserted Central Catheter, is a long, thin tube inserted through a vein in your arm and passed to the larger vein near your heart. It provides access to the large central veins near the heart and is generally used for administering medications. Doctors couldn't fit the chemo port near the neck area, which is usually under the skin, and fitted through surgery. It's less prone to infections and blood clots compared to the PICC line, but it wasn't an option for me because I had a tumor there.

The next day, they wheeled me into the operating theater. It wasn't a massive room, but the doctor and nurses were busy preparing everything they needed for the PICC line insertion procedure. I was a bit scared because I knew there would be four cuts and stitches in my arm, and that long, thin tube was going to be inserted. However, I held my

tears back as they got me ready. To distract me, the doctors kept talking to me throughout the procedure. They were giving me local anesthesia in my arm, and four painful injections to numb the area for the PICC line insertion and stitches. I could still feel some of it happening, though. I didn't dare to look, but it felt like my arm was a piece of cloth being stitched. The whole procedure took about 15 minutes. They told me I'd need to change the dressing every week, which worried me because I have sensitive skin. I was trying to distract my mind this whole time by thinking about some funny reels on Instagram or any such incidents that are close to my heart. I believed I could fool my anxiety and fear. It did help though, a little.

When I came out of the operating theater, I saw my mother, who had probably been praying the whole time that I wouldn't come out crying like I did during the biopsy. Instead, she had this big smile on her face, as if she had won something big when she saw me coming out cheerful and smiling. My dad hugged me, and the whole family was there, waiting outside the operating theater,

even though it wasn't allowed. I felt like I was now prepared for anything. I wasn't feeling as anxious as I was two to three days before.

Mom told me that she got calls from Ishika and Kyra, checking if I was doing fine. I picked up my phone and saw a text from Adi.

The text read, "Hey bbyg, stay strong and keep giving updates. Give me a call whenever you are free."

"Yeah, love you," I replied as they wheeled me back to my room.

I finally received over ten messages from Vaya, which read, "Hey, how are you? I just reached the hotel. I hope you are doing fine. If you'd like, I will spam you with good pictures, sunset pictures, as you like it, to keep you entertained in the hospital. See you soon." She sent me some of the most beautiful sunset pictures, and it was so pleasant to see them. I replied, "Hey, keep spamming me, I need it. Miss you."

After that, I had my lunch. The thought of starting chemotherapy tomorrow was making me a bit anxious, but I was determined and grateful that I was receiving treatment from the best hospital possible. Because of my family's previous experience with my mother's cancer, my dad was well-informed about hospitals, doctors, and procedures. So, I was taken care of like a newborn baby. The whole night after the PICC line insertion was painful due to the stitches, and I couldn't sleep. I tossed and turned in pain until midnight when I finally called the doctor because it hurt too much. He gave me a few painkiller injections, and after shedding two or three tears, I closed my eyes constantly chanting, “I am stronger than this, I am stronger than I think I am”, in my head. My dad sat beside me on a chair near my bed, gently tapping my head to help me fall asleep. After that, I had a good night's sleep.

When I woke up in the morning, I saw my mom sitting beside me. I could tell that my parents took

turns sitting by my side during the night, just in case I woke up or needed anything. I felt bad because they hadn’t slept properly because of me.

My thoughts were filled with concern, particularly for Bhumi. My friends had kindly been checking on her too. Bhumi is quite introverted, rarely confiding in anyone other than me and her best friend from school, not even our parents. She cared for me so much that she didn’t want to burden me with her trauma, so she didn’t cry much in front of me. I was concerned about her because, as a child, seeing our mom go through cancer and now me, it’s a lot to handle. But she was doing surprisingly well, trying to lighten the mood with her silly yet funny jokes.

The doctors and nurses entered the room abruptly, signaling the start of the chemotherapy. The entire chemotherapy process was going to take eight to ten hours to complete. The medications they were giving me were probably

the strongest available, with no higher dosage in my case.

Several saline pre-medication bottles were set up to mitigate potential nausea, fatigue, and acidity, among other issues. In addition, there were two sizable bottles of chemotherapy drugs and two smaller saline flush bottles, likely intended to prevent blood clots in the PICC line. To distract myself, I tried to imagine them as juice bottles, despite their less-than-pleasant taste. I needed to be vigilant for any signs of unbearable breathlessness or other side effects once the chemotherapy drugs were introduced.

As the chemotherapy commenced, it felt as though it was draining every ounce of energy from my body. My strength was nearly depleted, and I couldn’t even shift my position in bed without assistance. I had to rely on someone to help me. Breathing became a challenge, and my thoughts grew hazy. The medical team paused the chemotherapy for a quarter-hour, administered a

nebulizer to help me breathe properly, and then resumed the chemotherapy at a slower pace.

While the chemotherapy continued, I kept affirming to myself, “These chemo drugs are healing me, my body is accepting them and getting better than ever.” Although it was hard to believe at that point, I held onto hope.

In retrospect, it was all that I needed, hope. Hope is what will get you through, no matter how impossible it may seem.

It's much easier to talk about than to put into action – holding onto hope, and counting your blessings when it seems like your life is crumbling. I've felt the same way, but it wasn't during my cancer treatment; I experienced it when I watched my mom go through treatment three years ago. It's that overwhelming sense of helplessness that engulfs you, knowing there's nothing you can do to alleviate your loved one's pain. You're left with no choice but to sit by their side and witness their suffering. But believe me, I'll keep on saying it – there's always something to be grateful for.

I was thankful that my dad was strong, decisive, and financially capable of providing my mom and me with the best possible treatment. I was also grateful for my mom's unwavering determination to face it all. It all comes down to your mindset.

The initial round of chemotherapy was complete. The unease of stepping into the unknown lingered, prompting a two-day stay at the hospital for observation and an injection to manage my WBC count. My vitality had dwindled, and I felt restless and nauseous. Nurses came in for the stomach injection, evoking a momentary panic that subsided as I practiced steady breathing.

Upon returning home, nausea persisted, making the journey a tumultuous one. Yet, amidst it all, a strong mental resolve kept me pushing forward.

After about 10-15 days in the hospital, coming home brought a sense of relief. However, the next two weeks proved to be an arduous ordeal — fatigue, vomiting, constant nausea, palpitations,

mouth sores, skin reactions to the PICC line dressing, constipation, and more.

During this time, I maintained a diary for affirmations, jotting down positive thoughts whenever my health allowed. Gratitude and affirmations shielded me from unnecessary fear and doubt. I firmly believed in the healing power of my body, envisioning a radiant light in my chest shrinking the tumors.

Determined not to succumb to doubt or unnecessary internet searches, I focused on the treatment's positive trajectory. Mistakes were made initially, but I quickly learned the futility of dwelling on uncertainties.

It was clear in my head that doubting treatment and searching deep on the internet about the disease and medicines was useless. I initially made that mistake but was lucky enough to learn that it was a waste of time. You just give an invitation to futile thoughts and it hampers your composure by injecting fear.

After undergoing fifteen days of chemotherapy, my hair began its silent descent, leaving traces on

pillows, in the bathroom, and entwined in the brush. What commenced as a stray strand or two soon escalated into a cascade of falling locks. With each hair loss, I felt a heaviness in my chest and fast heartbeats. I tried cutting it short, but that didn't help, so I decided to shave my head. Surprisingly, I felt a sense of relief afterward. It wasn't entirely comfortable, but I convinced myself that, with time, it might get better.

I remember having a chat with Kyra about manifestation and affirmations, where she asked me to write to the point and precise affirmations with date, time, result, and everything. So according to that, I started framing my affirmations. I had my PET scan after three chemotherapy cycles to see if my body was supporting the chemotherapy drugs or not. I already believed that the chemo drugs were healing me.

But Kyra said I framed a few, precise and practical affirmations, one of which was, “I have my PET scan in a month, on 26th March, the results are out the next day and are exceptional. There’s almost 60-70 percent recovery already.” I started

believing it with all that I had, no matter the outer circumstances, and to my surprise the results were out and my body was reacting positively to the drugs with a significant reduction in the size of the tumor from 10.0 x 7.5 cm to 5.0 x 2.5 cm. Doctors were glad to see the positive results as they were unsure of it earlier. My parents' happiness had no boundaries. Now it might be a coincidence you think, the affirmation and the results and you might be right as well. But the point is not the affirmation but the positive outlook that it gave me and kept me away from stress and futile thoughts is important.

These positive results gave me confidence, and I understood that it is important for me to keep my mental health in check. Any kind of stress on my body and mind could hamper my health and recovery. So, I started doing things that I enjoy, learning new and fun skills maybe. A few months back I was in a rat race, worrying about my career and social life and the pressure of living life to the fullest along with all of these hindrances. But suddenly I was thrown out of that race, to be honest, it used to hit me a lot when I would see

what people of my age were doing, and here I was in the hospital dealing with unexplainable pain. I used to get angry at times and would start thinking about where I went wrong. But there were no answers to any of these. I would often run to my dad’s precept diary and even there, things would go bouncer as I couldn’t relate to any of it. Now looking back, I realize that the diary had all the answers, I just needed to ask the right question. I was happy to have come halfway. It was just a matter of three more chemotherapy cycles. But a lot was going to change after that and I was completely unaware. I was in a rush to complete these six cycles of chemotherapy and in a few months, I could get back to normal. I was so wrong.

CHAPTER 8

The days after the side effects of chemotherapy subsides would go pretty fast. Then the time for the next chemo cycle would come. And all the pain that I went through during the first cycle, I used to get flashbacks of that. And I would feel nauseous and anxious a day before my chemo cycle. I did not fight that feeling. But I had bigger goals in front of me so I held tightly on to the thought that, “This too shall pass” And it’s just a matter of three chemotherapy cycles, in no time I would get back to my health.

What helped me navigate through a situation like this was my strong desire to live, and to feel okay. I had immense faith in the body's healing powers. Having my parents and Bhumi around all the time to take care of me provided constant moral

support. I was fortunate to have people around me who, no matter what would keep a check on me and were just a text away. They witnessed countless rants, cries, frustration, and more. In situations like these, it's crucial to keep your loved ones close. With genuine people, you'll notice that nothing is forced—love, care, and support all come naturally. They stick around, offering happiness and peace, no matter how challenging the situation becomes.

Despite exams approaching in the next three months, I started contemplating how I could prepare without compromising my health. Passing the exam wasn't my primary goal; I aimed to do whatever was possible, and even attempting the exam was sufficient. With a PICC line inserted in my right hand, I practiced writing whenever I felt well enough, ensuring that during the exam, I could write for three hours without straining or experiencing pain. Fatigue hindered me from completing daily tasks, and attempting to push myself resulted in deteriorating health until late at night. Eventually, I learned to be patient with my body, avoiding overexertion. While there were

moments of anxiety initially, I stopped making a list of tasks and focused on the next hour, taking breaks or napping when needed. Some days I could study, while others required complete rest. All I could think about was how I would set everything right once I emerged from this phase.

Numerous changes occurred, and though I accepted my cancer diagnosis, accepting the changes that came with it was more challenging. Weight gain due to steroids and drugs, something I had been conscious of since childhood, became difficult to accept suddenly. Gradually, I realized I had lost interest in my appearance, and it no longer mattered to me.

After my fifth chemotherapy session, relief flooded over me, and tears of joy welled up in my eyes. The thing I had been waiting for so long was finally here; I just had to hold on a little longer.

The time for my sixth and final chemotherapy arrived, and I knew that even though the chemo cycles were ending, there would still be a need for ongoing treatment or monthly checkups. Nonetheless, I was happy that the most

challenging part was behind me—no more grappling with side effects. After the last chemotherapy, doctors scheduled the next PET scan to determine further treatment based on its results. The side effects of chemo gradually subsided within four to five days, and I began planning how to regain my strength, considering my body had been fatigued from six cycles of chemotherapy.

The day of the PET scan came and the results were out the next day. The wait for the results would be full of what-ifs. But I was grateful enough to have got the positive results. All the tumors in my body were dissolved completely as I was told. Dad and I went to the main doctor with reports, seeing the result he said, “exceptional recovery” Dad being concerned about my health and future asked if it would recur in the future.

To which the doctor said, “Cannot give a guarantee of anything as she was in a fourth stage but as she has responded well to the treatment, let’s hope for the same in the future as well.”

I was unaware of the stage, sooner I got to know that I was given six months of life expectancy if chemotherapy didn’t work.

Everything was hazy. The doctors were saying something but I couldn’t understand anything, I was tearing up. Suddenly all the noises in the background were silent and I could hear my heartbeats. Though the doctor was saying that I was out of danger now, the fact that I was going to die terrified me, until then I didn’t realize the uncertainty of life. I was completely unaware and stuck with how to deal with this uncertainty, I found myself trapped in the nest of overthinking that I couldn’t get out of.

Until I could wrap my head around everything, the doctor decided to put me on maintenance chemotherapy for six maintenance chemotherapy cycles. Completing one round of chemo only to find out there were more to come was a tough pill to swallow. In the blink of an eye, I found myself in the operation theatre for the chemo port surgery. According to the doctor, it would be more practical to remove the PICC line and install the chemo port, as the stitches of the PICC line had come off

five times, requiring repeated stitching at the same spot. It was frustrating and exhausting. The day of chemo port surgery was so tough I remember after the surgery one of the doctor waking me up, I felt like I was in deep sleep, uthne ke baad mujhe dhire dhire pain shuru hua near my chest and collar bone, body me thoda bhi movement ka energy nahi tha. I could barely keep my open eyes and I was thirsty but I was not allowed to drink water just after the surgery. . I kept throwing up after the surgery, and with stitches near my neck and collarbone, I had no energy and was on the verge of passing out. Doctors assured me that I would feel better in a week. The very next day after surgery, I had my chemotherapy. Just when I thought things might get a bit easier, they suddenly became 50 times more difficult. That week proved to be the most challenging as I was both physically and mentally weak. By the time I returned home, I had missed my exam as well. Alongside the side effects of chemotherapy, there was persistent anxiety, leaving me numb and feeling utterly hopeless.

first two to three months when the treatment started I took complete rest but after that decided to develop a hobby. I was completely clueless when I started to think about what I love and then I realised that I had to go years back when I was in school to remember the hobbies because that’s how far I left them. I decided to start learning keyboard and guitar again I started to paint again. I also started reading books, I was not at all a reader but decided to develop a habit of reading. I was in the situation where I couldn’t give exams. So I thought of learning new skills maybe. Par ye sabkuch bhi jyada se jyada ek mahina acha laga, time to to frustration hote rehta, din bhar me kabhi bhi without reason rona aajata aur din bhar me 6-7 baar break down hota aur ye sab kuch tab jab chemo ke side effects nahi rehte. 8 se 9 din chemotherapy ke baad side effects me jaate aur vo bhi aise waise side effects nahi but itne painful ki me sone ke alava pure vo 8-9 din kuch nai kar sakti. Fatigue was so extreme that even moving a finger would hurt. Two to three days of those 8 -9 days toh unbearable pain that even sote waqt pillow cover ka touch bhi painful rehta agar side

change karne ka try kiya tha. Khane ke liye uthti par khana jata hi nai kyuki continuously vomit sensation rehta kuch time situation itni terrible rehti ki vomit karke energy itni drain hojati body ki that I used to sit in the bathroom for an hour staring at the wall. Khudko push kar karke uthke wapis bed par jake aisi halat me padi rehti ki itne din ki positivity good thoughts affirmations sab nikal jaata dimag se. Aur ye cycle har 21 days baad repeat hoti, no matter how strongly I used to prepare my mind each time., me har baar voi experience karti. Many times aise situations aaye ki pain itna unbearable tha that I couldn’t even sir straight yaa bed pe so tak nai pati, uss dard se pareshan hoke ya toh wish karti pass out hojau yaa bolti mujhe behosh kardo. First six chemo cycles wait karne me nikal diye that treatment khatam hoga and I will revert back to my normal life par ab doctor ne pehle 12 maintenance chemo bole and ye bhi kaha ki he cannot give a definite number of chemotherapy, that can only be decided from the pet scans. And even after finishing chemotherapy, it was not over, hospital ke chakkar toh uske baad bhi kaatne hi the. Even though my body was on

the recovering side and I had to keep reminding myself that bas kuch aur waqt fir sab thik hoga. But how long I was gonna wait. I learned that I will have to start working towards whatever I wish to do and also start living. I had such instances and traumatic experiences that were so alive that even after days past that they could give me shivers at times. And it was not just that but I used to say I accepted it and maybe to some extent I did but there was still a part of me which was dying to back to when everything was okay. Back to hostel, back to the life jaha me jab chahu jaise chahu independently ghum saku. Jaha mujhe constantly mere health ka tension naa rahe, I used to love to go to aerobics as exercises suddenly I was not allowed to jump as it would end up hurting my bones because I gained a lot of weight, scrolling through my old pictures in the gallery would break my heart.

I somehow was stuck at it. And the question was that how I am supposed to accept this completely how am I supposed to let go of something I so desperately want. I couldn’t find answer to it. I was disheartened and the thought about how I

was going to get through this twelve-maintenance chemo was eating me out on inside. I was so upset and anxious about knowing the stage that I couldn’t get happy about the fact that I was lucky enough to have recovered from a rare type of lung cancer, accounting for less than 1% of all lung cancers. No doctor could give any guarantee to my parents. My dad is my savior, he knew about the stage and how critical my situation was, on the very first day of the diagnosis. But he kept it from me because I was ignorant, I wasn’t taking it that seriously and was full of belief that this was not that bad, the medicines and chemotherapy would heal me fast and I would go back to my health. I realized that even in that critical stage, it wasn’t as bad as I experienced this week because I was entertaining futile thoughts. By then I knew that I had to be mentally strong, as it is your mindset that’s going to make it easy for you, no matter how difficult the situation is. I learned that I will have to start working towards whatever I wish to do and also start living. But I realised one thing strongly I cannot wait for the right time, treatment khatam hone ka wait nai kar sakti ki jab ye sab sahi hoga

tabhi meri life sahi hogi. Big no. I will somehow need to learn to live my life with this and that too happily. Bas fir wahi se meri self growth ki journey start hui. I remember on my way back home i was feeling so disheartened after the news of more chemotherapy cycles I felt like it’s unfair as if universe is conspiring against me but I am a fighter, though I was crying I was stubborn enough to flip the whole situation in my favour. And one thought came to my mind I decided to write the story because I never wanted to forget a single thing that I went through that how difficult it was to get back to health taaki iske baad me kabhi life me apni health ko granted naa lu. Mere dimag me ye thought that I will do something good with life how I had no idea but I will figure out. ye thought itna strong tha it wasn’t a thought anymore it was an emotion, my belief. And when your thought becomes your belief, raste apne aap nikal aate he.

After a week or so mera health stable tha pehle se kaafi and I thought that to start writing I should work on my skills and for that within a month or so I met the best mentor I could ever had. I never came across a person like him. On the very first

day, he asked me one simple question you seem good at writing why do you want somebody to teach you that. This is your story so you should be the one deciding how it should be. Never in my life I thought of writing, many years I was in this misconception that I cannot even express myself that good. He asked me to come up with a name of the book in a week. I, who is always this impatient, came up with the name in one day along with one page starting the story. He would motivate me to believe myself a little bit more. Hum chize shuru honese pehle hi question karte he ye hoga ki nai. Isi overthinking ke chakkar me we lose out on many opporutnities in life. Khudpe pe vo vishwas karna aur confidence Lana itna mushkil tha but it’s a process. Mere dimag me kaafi chize ghum rahi thi jo kaafi anxiety badha rahi thi, ek phase hota he life ka jab 100 chize dimag me takleef paida karti he aur hum pinpoint nai kar paate ki exactly aisa kya he jisse hum pareshan he. Vo saari chize ek ek karke dimag me sort karna is necessary. Mere samne bas ek goal tha ki bas aur 10 se 15 days bache he for next chemotherapy toh aise mindset sath toh nahi

jaana he kaafi chize sort karke, ek strong mindset ke saath Jana he.

Chapter- 9

The first step was to sort things out in my head— exactly what thought was affecting me so much. The first thing that came to mind was the 'fear of death.' Even though I was out of danger and all the tumors had dissolved not all really, a small 1 cm tumor near the collar bone was still there.

I knew by then that merely venting to someone was not a solution, and the more I ran away from this fear, the more it would haunt me.

So, I started contemplating and realized that anyone facing illness, the struggle for life, or the loss of a loved one is well aware of life’s unpredictability. People often associate serious illnesses like cancer with an upcoming date with

the Grim Reaper, but they overlook the universal truth that everyone, whether they're sick or not, young or old, is playing the same game of cosmic roulette. That fear goes with the complete acceptance of this truth. Now you might think of it as impractical that how is someone supposed to accept the fear of death? By understanding that it is something that is not in your control and thinking about it stressing over it is not going to let you live in the now. If you start noticing your thoughts consciously then you will realize that you are stressing either over the future or crying over the past which is not letting you live in the present. I realized this but the question was how to live in the present. By taking One day at a time and hear me out it’s not easy at first.Learning the art of taking one day at a time is imperative. This is the one mantra that has kept me sane throughout. There are cases and people who were sent home from the hospitals now there’s no cure as they were on the last stage, but still got out of it and are living a healthy and happy life now. Definitely because of the doctors and medicines. But also because of the mindset. We tend to give up on this

because we expect immediate results. We read about changing our mindset and get motivated and expect it to change overnight yet again we are back to square one the next day. Knowing something is one thing and implementing it is another thing. And implementation is what you should strive for.

I was left with no other option than to think about today. Many futile worries about the future at times used to trigger my anxiety so much that I could see it affecting my health as well. So, a smart choice was to learn to live in the present. I gradually started learning to count my blessings rather than counting on all the stuff I was lacking. If fear of death was something that was scaring me I started being grateful for waking up each day in the morning. And at first as I started it I felt of it as useless but gradually as months passed being grateful, it started coming to me naturally, the lingering anxiety about it was no more. And it’s not that I don’t get these scary thoughts but now I started to recognize it as just a thought. And a thought can be changed. If fear of falling behind everyone due to cancer and treatments was

something that I was fretting over I first thrown away all the plans that I had made for the future and started doing things that was possible doing today without daydreaming about the results I could get out it. I was scared at first, scared of imagining the future but rather than focusing on how nice it would be, I started focusing on how can I work on myself today so that I would get a life better than I had imagined. How can I make myself so strong that I could face any storm. And that is the only thing that is in your control, working on your mind. I slowly and gradually started taking care of my physical and mental health, making it my first and foremost priority. I started making decisions around my health because that is the most important thing in today’s date. I received a rather strong jolt in the form of cancer, which made me truly appreciate the value of my health. We take our health for granted until we lose it. I read a beautiful quote by, Zach Sobiech: “You don’t have to find out you are dying to start living” It just takes one thought to look at any situation differently.

First step: Realize that it is just a thought.

Second step: Change it with another productive thought.

Third step: Plan your next hour rather than planning a year. Have goals about your dream life but be flexible enough if life wants you to offer more than that, and if that means becoming your best version by going through the worst, so be it.

Fourth step: Keep doing this continuously and you will notice that the intensity of that scary thought is getting less.

And as soon as I started to look at it this way, I was relieved, the anxiety that was nagging for so long would go away with this realization.

The second thing that was troubling me was my impatience. This impatience of finishing off treatment and then starting to live a new life was the biggest hindrance. I was passing my days looking at the clock. I would get upset and I would compare it with people. Now dealing with the comparison that was so inbuilt for many years, how to deal with that? Realise that “Everybody has their unique timeline.” It's

all in our heads. Competition and comparison are good until it's healthy. The moment it starts stressing you out, you should know where to stop and snap out of it and it can be done when you understand this one simple thing that time is a real thing, you just need to have immense faith in yourself that I'll do something good with my life.

Going through the chemotherapy I always desperately waited for the right time to come when everything was okay, and I was healthy again and in the perfect shape that I wanted to be. That hurry of having my imagined perfect life somehow made me more anxious and unhappy with what I am currently. I was somewhere failing to understand the magic of time and how important it is to be patient. I have this theory or belief that the time is never wrong. In whatever situation you are today, you are at the right place at the right time. The only thing is how you take it. I mean if the situation is happy situation, we accept it without any question. The problem comes when the situation that we are going through is painful. In that case you have choices. If you can do something about it then do it but if you can’t, if it

seems out of your control you need to be patient and have hope. This takes immense self-care and you will keep failing at it at first which I did but I just started thinking that this period of my life is the toughest period and if I learn to live my life while going through the cancer treatment, if I learn to hold onto myself and hope for the best, if I start thinking of it as what this period has taught me rather than thinking that what it has taken away from me, if I start creating and working towards the best version of myself rather than losing myself, then I will be able to get through any situation in future. I remember my old self or the girl I was before the cancer diagnosis, if you’d asked that girl if she would survive the situation she’s going through right now, should would have said no. But here I am getting through everything I thought I never would. And I even want you to think of the worst thing that you have been through and ask yourself the same, I would like to remind you that if you can get through that you can get through anything. You just need to have that faith in yourself and in time as well because time heals everything. If time has taken away from

you something, have faith that it will heal you. Nothing stays forever. When it seems that you can’t bear the pain, hold onto this thought that nothing stays forever. It will make you angry at times, frustrated even but you have no option but to keep reminding yourself. When I am going through chemotherapy, it feels as though I keep trying to remind myself all of what I have said above it feels like somebody is dragging me back to square one, back to where I am miserable. I even end up getting these thoughts that what is the point of living like this, that there’s no zest left to live and that I am tired in pain constantly and it feels next to impossible to remind yourself of all the positive things but realize this thing that when you are down physically, when your energy levels are down you are bound to get negative thoughts sometimes and that is completely fine. Mental and physical well-being are like a sitcom – they keep the show of life entertaining. Just imagine waking up with a headache – you’ll see how the day can take a turn for the worse if that headache persists. If someone enthusiastically tells you to “be positive” when you’re feeling unwell, your first

instinct might be to hurl something at them. But here’s the million-dollar question: how do you manage to keep your wits about you while dealing with something way more serious than a pesky headache? Let’s not sugarcoat it; it’s not a walk in the park. But the biggest secret to staying sane, I’ve discovered, is not to wrestle with your emotions. Release yourself from the pressure of being all sunshine and rainbows when all you feel inside is like the lead character in a melodrama. It’s important to vent it out. There are times in life when everything seems to be falling apart. In situations like these, the worst thing you can do to yourself is to panic and attempt to control everything. So what’s the alternative? Trust the timing of the Universe because nothing stays forever. Release the need for everything to be picture-perfect. If you feel like shedding a tear or two, give yourself a little emotional rain shower. I once read a profound quote in the book “Forest of Enchantments”: “What you can’t change, you must endure.” And that stayed with me.

As I endure the pain of side effects of chemotherapy, I allow myself to feel every thought

that is coming to my head. I cry to my parents, to my sister, to my friends. Allow myself to indulge in self-pity for a while. It is important to let your emotions out because the more you suppress it the more you will keep storing it and it will find disastrous ways to get out. For example, you may have noticed that a person who has spent all his or her young age days or more than half of their life being calm is more likely that these people become a walking volcano in old age. So those 8 to 9 days I don’t put any kind of pressure on myself but after that when the side effects subside, I notice that I don’t get that negative thoughts so much then I push myself a little bit to again start working towards the mindset that I am striving. I felt like some punching bag, getting hit by the chemo every time and bouncing back to normal again after that. It’s a cycle of resilience after every 21 days. But I promised myself to give my best and make the most of those ten to fifteen days of month where I feel physically bit better. It took some time to get used to it but eventually, it became my routine. I focused one hundred percent on what I could do today.

Chapter- 10

A month back I wasn’t able to understand why is it happening to me because I was searching for ‘why’ and trust me, there’s no answer to why, the only thing you need to do is constantly keep learning. All this while all I wanted was to get better but I was focusing too much on cancer. The more and more you keep thinking and reading or listening about the disease, the more you are surrounding yourself with that disease. My thoughts revolved around that I am sick and how I am not being able to do what I want because of cancer. But soon I realized that these thoughts are futile. The more I keep having these thoughts the more I will keep dwelling on them. So, I started reading books, learning new skills, learning musical instruments, and writing. I found myself happy when I kept doing these things. I decided not to use cancer as

an excuse. I decided that I would not let it hold me back. if at times I couldn’t read because of all the fatigue in my body I started listening to audiobooks. Whole day I was occupied with reading and writing. Constantly surrounding myself with all the things that I want to imbibe in me. Reading and listening to all the stuff that gave me hope. As I started doing this consistently, I started to fall in love with reading books, fiction, self-help books, and human psychology, and when confused I always had Bm sir to the rescue to discuss and solve any confusion regarding it. All the discussions with him slowly and gradually cleared the hazy picture in my mind of how I wanted to live my life. With all the pain frustrations and anxiety of treatment, I wanted my life to be happy and content. I had no idea how I was going to do that but I had this belief that I would make my way through it. I will allow myself to make mistakes and learn from it.

I started to search for people who have been through a similar situation if not similar then people who have been through sickness. I was in search of that sense of relatability because I felt alone at times even though surrounded by all the people who genuinely cared, I was unable to explain my pain to them, I was unable to understand even that why is it hurting so much, I was just feeling it, experiencing it and that made me mad sometimes but I was well aware of the fact that I cannot expect from anybody, be it my family or friends to understand completely. I was the only one who could do that because I was experiencing it. Though I had seen my mother go through the chemotherapy and she was well aware of the pain but somewhere due to age gap there were still differences in our thoughts and feelings. My aim was to feel independent and secure with myself by lowering down my expectations with others. I did not want to be dependent on anybody for my happiness or simply to be okay. While going through chemotherapy I felt like as if my normal life has been snatched away from me. Bas Ghar aur hospital ke chakkar, my parents used to take me out to places but it wasn’t the same anymore. I used to get tired in 10 to 15 minutes of walking, the bodyache and fatigue used to kick in ki ghumne ka maza hi kharab hojata. So most of the time I was home. It used eat me out inside. I was tired of feeling like this so I started to look out for ways to not feel that way. I realized that I am the only one who can completely understand and take care of myself. As I said it takes immense level of self care and determination to get out of that frustration. And you can do it by constantly being busy and surrounding yourself with all the things you wish to imbibe in you. And it is difficult, I get it because I am still learning and you will feel of it as useless at times and due to pain would not want to get up from the bed and it’s okay, but remember that you have to give that little push, if you are someone who has a closed one going through cancer, you can be the catalyst. I had my family and friends constantly cheering up for me and it helped a lot. Just remember that you are enough to fathom all the wounds of your heart. snatched

My treatment started off in January and I remember feeling all alone in March after my third chemotherapy, lying in my bed scrolling through Instagram and I came across one girl named Bri posted a reel that said watch my hair grow back. She seemed young and of my age. After watching that reel I went through her profile and stalked her for an hour, I could relate to every single thing. I couldn’t help myself from sliding into her dms.

“Hey! I was just scrolling through the feed when I saw your hair regrowth journey video and checked your profile..

I am in the midst of my cancer treatment. I could relate to all of your posts because that’s what I am facing currently. I am feeling stagnant and sad sometimes even exasperated and exhausted. The thought of waking up daily and getting through the day haunts me.

Due to this treatment I have gained weight, lost all my hair, the pain and the fact that I can’t do anything about it unless I get over the treatment is making me anxious. I don’t know you personally and I don’t expect you to see my texts or respond

to it but I hope you get all that you want and more of it. Thanks for doing what you’re doing. You’ve no idea how much it has helped. I still feel helpless but there’s hope.”

To which she replied, “Hey there  ❤

“First off, I just wanted to say I’m so sorry you are going through all of that. I know 100% how you feel. And can be SO hard to not feel like yourself and I remember having the same feeling of getting through the day scaring me. I promise you with my full heart that this pain goes away. And you will learn so so so much. I always hated people telling me that, but it’s true. We have a special outlook on life that makes us appreciate so much. Not many people have that. And I also relate with close ones not understanding what you’re going through ❤  that was so hard for me too. I remember hanging out with my friends and I would get bothered if they complained about homework. Because in my head I was like “ugh I wish my problems were homework and not cancer.” Anyway, I totally get where you’re coming from. But as time went on we are BEST friends again. And I learned to not let

those things bother me. I promise you will get past this ❤  keep your hope!!!! Hope is what will get you through. And I don’t know if you’re religious, but I’m sending lots of prayers your way. And know God cares for you more than anything. He loves you. I love you too! You got this❤ ”

Tears rolling down my eyes as I read the text and there was a strong positive energy in me and that was hope. I saw her profile her journey from not being able to get up from the bed to running 10 miles a day, going to gym, getting in shape, she was doing everything that I wanted for myself but I was having second thoughts about it. After seeing her and reading her text I only had hope and kindness in my heart. Even after going through the worst she was filled with kindness, love, positivity and hope. I realized that when you are filled with that kind of energy you end up radiating the same. And when I feel the lack of hope I keep going back to her profile and texts.

While going through my 14th chemotherapy in the period where I hit the rock bottom and feel like I cannot take this anymore and I would feel tired of

even having hope at times and feeling completely helpless I would text Bm sir saying, “I am tired now, what if it doesn’t get better?”

To which he would reply, “Then it will be the best.”

“ I hope so.” I replied tears rolling down through my eyes.

He would always say, “ You are more than what you think about you.”

I would listen to all the people who have been through sickness. They had negligible chances of living yet they ended up achieving and living more than they could ever imagine.

I realized that people have recovered from impossible insane diseases with the power of hope and all I could think of was, “Why can’t I?”

There was a young girl who grew up in a hot Las Vegas dessert, all she wanted was to be free and independent. At the age of 19 after she graduated

her school she moved to a place where it snowed and became massage therapist, with that she felt free and completely in control of her life. Until her life took a detour. She went home from work early one day with what she thought was the flu until 24 hours later she found herself in the hospital on life support with less than a 2 percent chance of living. As days later she laid in a coma, doctors diagnosed her with bacterial meningitis, a vaccine preventable blood infection. Over in course of two and a half months she lost her spleen, kidney, the hearing in her left ear and both of her legs below the knee. When her parents willed her out of the hospital, she thought the worst was over until she saw her new legs for the first time. They were like heavy metal blocks. She did not know what to expect but she wasn’t expecting that. With her mom on her side and tears rolling down their faces she strapped on those chunky legs she stood up, they were so painful and so confining that all she could think of was how she was ever going to travel the world with these chunky legs. How she was always going to live the life full of adventures and stories as she always wanted. And how she

going to snowboard again. She went home crawled into bed and that was her situation for a few months, escaping the reality with her legs resting by her side. She was physically, mentally and emotionally broken. She knew she had to let go of her old version and learn to embrace her new self. That’s when it dawned on her that she won’t have to be 5ft 5 anymore she could be as tall as she wanted or as shorted as she wanted depending on who she was dating! And if she snowboard again her feets won’t get cold anymore and she asked herself a life defining question: If your life were a book and you were the author, how would you want your story to go. And she began to daydream and imagine herself walking gracefully, helping other people through her journey and snowboarding again and she did not just see herself doing that but she could feel it. And four months later she was back on the snowboard, although things did not go as she expected and it was difficult to be able to snowboard again and she was so discouraged. She decided to make a new pair of legs that could fit her right. It was these legs and her best 21st

birthday gift she received a new kidney from her dad that allowed her to follow her dreams again. She started snowboarding, went back to work, to school and in 2005 found a non-profit organisation for youth and adults facing physical disabilities from where she got an opportunity to go to South Africa where she helped to put shoes on thousands of children feets so they could attend school. The next thing she won two back to back World Cup gold medals which made her the highest ranked adaptive female snowboarder in the world. And she is Amy Purdy for you.

Her story taught me the power of imagination, how you make weaknesses your strength.

I also kept going back to this one story that made me believe in the power of hope. Story of Michael Crossland. Write his story in short.

Months back in January when I was in so much difficult and critical phase, getting diagnosed at the fourth stage, if today I am out of that critical phase and the disease is in control and my body

has shown insane recovery, then my life has purpose. I just need to have patience with the chemotherapy treatment. And with this I believed in the power of hope and imagination. I started imagining like a kid again. You have to go back to being a kid again.

Lying in the bed I would imagine a golden colour light healing every part of my body shrinking every tumor. I would imagine getting better each day. I would imagine achieving everything that I wanted. I would imagine creating something sitting at home. Feeling as if it’s happening in this very moment. Allow yourself to be happy in that moment where you’d always wanted to see yourself. Push yourself a little bit more by imagination.

And remember that the brain questions whether miracles could ever happen, hope believes and makes them happen! It is very important to believe in that power. To believe that your mind and body has immense healing powers.

After first 6 chemotherapy as initial treatment I thought the next maintenance chemotherapy won’t hurt that much but I was wrong and when doctors broke the news of these 12 chemotherapies and uncertainty of when it would

end, I thought of how I was going to survive but as going through my 16th chemotherapy I started trusting time and constantly kept working on hope and imagination by reading, listening, writing and talking to people who have been through the same and were living their best life. And I noticed myself getting up and working towards all the things I love. It’s a battle of resilience after every 21 days. I hit the rock bottom while going through the side effects of chemotherapy for 8-9 days every time yet again get up on 10th day and start working towards being the strongest version of myself until next chemotherapy comes. It’s a cycle.

And I desperately wanted to get out of this cycle but by now I learned not to wait for the right time, I decided that if I am sitting at home for God knows how many years because it’s a long journey, the treatments and after treatment recovery, if I feel that I’m stuck in these four walls, I will end up creating something rather than to just sit and wait for the right time.

And here I was writing the end of the first part of my story in the journal.

“Dear diary,

This is my journey so far. I am still in the midst of my treatment, on maintenance chemotherapy to prevent recurrence in the future, and it is a long way after the treatment as well, but I have learned so much up to this point and will continue to do so. One of the most important things, cancer has taught me is that you don’t have to be a certain way to enjoy your life and be happy and content. Happiness and peace should not be conditional. Today, I am happy and content with whatever I am, and I accept it. I have my fingers crossed in the hope that years later, when I reread this journal, I’ll be proud of myself for not giving up, no matter what toss.”

4.  HOW MY PARENTS AND SISTER CHANGED THEMSELVES FOR MY SAKE- THIS PART SHOULD BE FOR PEOPLE WHO SEE THEIR CLOSE ONES GO THROUGH THIS BATTLE. HOW IMPORTANT IT IS TO HAVE A GOOD ENVIORNMENT AROUND YOU.- 4th dec

7.  WRITE ABOUT CONFIDENCE. HOW IT CAN GET YOU A LONG WAY.- 4 dec how you can’t recognise yourself

10.  HOW KYRA ADI AND ISHIKA WERE ALWAYS THERE GENUINELY. HOW EMPATHY MATTERS THE MOST. FIND ISHIKA’S TEXT, KYRA’S MESSAGES AND FOOD DISHES WHICH SHE USED TO COOK FOR ME, ADI’S POST.- 6 dec

13.  HOW ONE MENTOR IN YOUR LIFE CAN BE CATALYST OF CHANGE- 6 dec

As a child I felt unsafe I found that in my father