Israel: A trip to the Biblical past

Making another exception here -- This blog entry is by Prasun Pandey, a naval merchant, who loves exploring around the world. This is Israel from his eyes. 

No sooner did I realize that my merchant ship carrying loads of cars was getting to Israel, I started romanticizing about a trip into Biblical history and a ‘dip’ in the Dead Sea.

Once there, I left with my mates in the wee hours of morning for Jerusalem, a 4-hour journey from Eilat where we were docked. It was a beautiful morning with temperatures hovering around 27 degrees C. Clearly, luck was by my side as it had hit a high of 36 degrees just the previous day! Our tour guide, Benny, a tall man with lush silver beard, greeted us with a wide smile but warned of a long day head.

We began the trip while it was still dark but as the sun rose to its glory its rays gleamed on the golden sand, making it a sight worth capturing. Stopping intermittently for photography, coffee and breakfast, we finally reached ‘Qasrel Yahud’ at the Israel-Jordan border. This is the place where Jesus was believed to have been baptized.

The surprises!

•     Coming from India with a not-so-friendly neighbor in Pakistan, a border reminds me of guns, warfare, military posts and barbed wires. But here the border is a friendly river with churches and mosques on both sides. I also saw some locals and foreigners gather there at the river bank to perform the baptism ceremony.
• 
  

•       On our way to Jerusalem, we came across vast farmlands growing almonds, oranges, water melon and some vegetables near the Dead Sea. Dead Sea is so named because it has such high salt content that no form of life can ever exist. However, Benny told me that the water near the sea is all but salty which helps the lush cultivation, of course with support from the government.

Photo credit: JTA.ORG 

The spiritual and religious experience…

After nearly four hours on the road, we entered Jerusalem -- the city that promises a religious and spiritual experience and rightly so! Our first stop was Mt. Scopes – which offers a bird’s eye view of the entire city. It was quite a picturesque sight.

Next, we went to Bethlehem.  The archaeological and religious sites there, including the birthplace of Jesus Christ made my visit memorable. As we entered Bethlehem, we saw the medieval age come alive with high-walled fortresses and watch towers. We visited the church where, as they say, a miracle took place when Jesus was born. The church, a huge tower with glass paintings and prayers inscribed on the walls, saw a regular movement of visitors possibly from all across the world. The place brought immense peace to our hearts and spending some rare time in complete silence indeed felt like connecting with the supreme power.

Our next stop was “Via Dolorosa’ , the place where Jesus was crucified and buried by king Hordes. The sacred place is on a small mountain in Jerusalem. However, the setting inside the church was in sharp contrast with the one in Bethlehem with visitors reliving the sorrowful death of Jesus.

Shopping…

After gratifying our souls, it was time for some materialistic pleasures. Bethlehem is known for its beautiful hand-made artifacts carved out of olive wood; wax paintings and potteries.

As I was picked up one of the paintings I chatted with some local sellers and passers-by who were all big ‘Bollywood’ fans. They remembered stars from the 60s and 70s including Amitabh Bachchan and Hema Malini. Benny himself was a Bollywood fan and entertained us with old classics from Mukesh, Rafi and Lata. I can still remember him crooning melodiously “dost, dost na raha, pyaar pyaar na raha .

The food…

Shopping can get tiring. So, we headed to try some local delicacies. Being a vegetarian, I always have to be extra cautious before ordering any food overseas but Bethlehem seemed to be an easy place for leaf eaters! Some people turn vegetarian on the days they come to pray so finding green delights is never a problem. Benny took us to a local restaurant which had loads of options including humus, falafel, khus-khus, rice, mixed vegetables, eggplant, and fried potatoes.

Dead Sea…

Photo credit David_Shankbone.jpg 

We hit the roads again to head back towards the much awaited destination -- the Dead Sea.

With no aquatic life and near zero levels of pollution, the mineral-rich sea has pristine ferrous green water and is a great place to buy cosmetics such as hand and foot creams, anti-ageing creams and sun-blocks. Besides, the black mud from the sea has known therapeutic effects on the body. When I found out about the body pack, the first person that came to my mind was my first cousin Swati for whom I am writing this blog. I remember a family holiday in Dive-agar , near Mumbai, where she buried herself in the black sand because someone told her it was good for the skin! LMAO!

So, I bought some black mud, applied it all over my body and jumped into the Dead Sea. I was fascinated by the fact that you actually do not drown in the waters, no matter how hard you try! No wonder we didn’t spot any life guards either. You can leisurely float on the waters while reading a book! Note to self - Never allow the water to touch your eyes unless you want to ruin your entire day. They do have fresh water showers available nearby but the burning sensation of even few seconds can kill.

I bought some Dead Sea cosmetics for family back home and some black mud for Swati as a souvenir.

The return journey to the ship was long after a rather tiring day but I took back a lifetime of memories and experiences. Floating on the sea was the best experience ever. When I popped by head out of the window I could see the sun set as if trying to say goodbye to us and I hummed the popular Hindi song to myself kahin door jab din dhal jaaye… 

Remembering the mother I've lost Part-II

Here's the part-I if you've missed it: Remembering the mother I've lost Part I

October 2013

It was a long day, running around the hospital and managing home and relatives. So when Prateek called us up at around 2 on Monday morning neither me nor my husband Prashant woke up. It took us an embarrassing nine missed calls to shake us off our sleep.

"Hello?" I answered the phone, still half awake.

"Have you guys put your phone on silent mode. Why did it take so long?"

"Errr.. Sorry, we were fast asleep," I replied apologetically.

"Hmmm, can you give to bhai please?" I handed over the phone to Prashant who sat tight on the bed, alert.

In half a minute, the conversation ended and I knew he had bad news to share -- Mummy’s blood pressure was sinking despite the medicines and the intensive care while doctors were losing hope. 

I had some meetings that day at work which I promptly cancelled. My father-in-law was the last to be informed. Tuesday passed in waiting.

Come Wednesday, guests started pouring in and phones never stopped ringing. There were many, many people -- some I had never even heard about -- who were really concerned and anxious about mummy.
During the times that we live, we seldom realise that our close friends and relatives can be our greatest strengths of pillar during tough times like these. Having them by your side can be a source of immense support. Unfortunately, when we live we worship our egos and love takes a back seat.

Wednesday was even terrible. 

We figured she only had a few hours left. Unfortunately, she hadn't opened her eyes in the last ten days that she was in the ICU. In her last waking state, she was hopeful of returning home, she wanted to bake a cake for us, celebrate Diwali and see my brother-in-law Prateek settle down. I shudder to think what would have happened if she was conscious and saw her life peeling off her body every single minute. Was she lucky to have been spared the horror?

She was on life support. Doctors said the advanced medical systems these days meant patients survived longer than they otherwise would or in their own words they delay deaths. Had mummy recovered then she would have been nothing but a bag of bones, battling an even harder life with regular trips to the hospital, doctors suggested towards the fag end of her journey. One question on our minds then was how long can she be on life support anyway? Unfortunately for us, when her liver started degenerating the doctors lost all hopes. That is one organ that cannot be put on any life support systems.

In those last few hours on Wednesday afternoon, we took turns to stand beside her bed, holding her swollen hands or kissing her yellow-ish forehead while urging her to depart. Mantras were played on soft volume for her ears while the hospital administration had lifted the restrictions on the number of visitors. While we waited for the bad news, we were also praying for a miracle which never happened.

While in Kerala, just a fortnight before her tryst with death began, mummy and I entered this massive gold souk in one of the malls in Kochi while the men ate their hearts out. Mummy walked in hesitatingly. The shop had an amazing collection of both ethnic and modern jewellery. From the look of it, I thought mummy may finally get what she’d been looking for. 

 "But, we don't want to buy anything," she said, stepping back. 

"Dekhne ka paisa thode hi hain, chaliye” I almost pulled her by the arm. (meaning: it doesn’t cost to just look around, come on in)

We had barely stepped into the store when a battery of salesmen pounced upon us to ask what we needed.
Mummy had always craved for an elegant diamond necklace that she would wear when Prateek would marry. So, that was asked to be shown. The over-zealous salesmen put up a great display before the two brothers chased us out of the store!

Unfortunately, she left the world with that desire in her heart – to wear a diamond necklace for her son’s wedding. When I think about it I feel we plan so much for life, sometimes make compromises for future comforts. We make decisions or avoid them worrying about what’s lying ahead, we ignore our loved ones because we are too busy securing our future. And, then one fine day life plays a cruel joke on us.

Around 7 p.m. on that fateful Wednesday when the visiting hours at the hospital came to a close, mummy's younger sister told me about things we'd do when we get back home that night. I was certainly not going back home. Somehow I felt that Prashant and Prateek would need me if the news broke at odd hours. I put my foot down, and earned a concession -- I could stay at Prashant's aunt's place which was just round the corner.

That night we couldn't sleep. Around 2 am we got a call that mummy had passed away. This was inevitable, and I thought I was prepared for it. Still, when I heard the news a chill ran down my spine. I was shivering.

The journey to the hospital was never this long. At the same time, I wanted to escape in another direction. I couldn't believe that mummy, she who always saw her entire world in her fist and whose life revolved only around her two sons, has decided to leave everything for good.

Once at the hospital I saw that sunshine yellow body again. Tears rolled down my cheeks. We said our prayers and walked out of the chamber.

The ‘Gita’ says that the soul lives forever while the body- all bones and skin- is rented. When the rent agreement expires, the soul leaves the body. No negotiations. 

A final look at mummy on that same wheel bed... This time the monitors were not beeping. Like her, they too were put to rest. There were no intravenous pipes piercing her skin, instead cotton buds were shoved into her nose. She was at peace, but we? 

Remembering the mother I've lost....

September 2013

In a white and blue checkered gown she lay on a wheel-bed, still. Sporadically, she would gasp for some breathe. At least six intravenous pipes passed through her body and the nose, which was covered by an oxygen mask. A nurse, in a pink blouse and skirt that fell just below her knees and hair neatly tied up in a bun, would be around all through the day and night, noting down her blood pressure and heart rate on a log sheet.


'Patient no-620' was critical, and survival chances grim, so said the doctors. For us, her kith and kin, even the smallest signs of revival was good news -- blood pressure holding well, blood counts improving, brain scan normal and so on. The doctors' pessimism over her chances would dampen our hopes only momentarily!

Just a fortnight ago, patient no. 620 was a normal, smiling, laughing 61-year old mother of two big boys, one of whom is married to me. We were in God's own country, Kerala - the beautiful, lush green south Indian state - on a family holiday. We had a great time gorging on the yummy Keralite food and trying to mimic their accents. We spent our time playing cards against a picturesque backdrop on a houseboat, chatting about all and sundry and later shopping away to glory!

Within days of returning, a terrible, gnawing pain in her abdomen made mummy cry with discomfort. What we suspected to be a minor case of food poisoning turned out to be a life-threatening chronic infection that rendered her vital organs lifeless.

In her last couple of days, she started growing paler, and gradually a shade of sunshine yellow. In her two weeks at the hospital, memories of her at home, amid daily chores, teasing, laughing and, at times, grumbling would flash in my head. She was not a hearty, happy-go-lucky person. She was quiet, non-controversial, a great learner and very open-minded. For her age, I thought she was way ahead of her times. Unfortunately, when I was with her, I never realised what I was learning with her by my side. I would also later find out that her demise was a turning point in my life, in a lot of ways.

"Is it hepatitis?" I asked the doctor at the Intensive Care Unit (ICU).
"No," he said before considering, "it’s a case of liver degeneration."
"Liver failure, you mean."
"Ummm, yea. You can say so."
"Is she in a coma"
"Sort of coma. Her brain is not dead, yet."
"How much time does she have?"
"Difficult to say. You should be prepared. Any moment...," he trailed off.
I am not sure if I imagined this but I felt he chocked at those last words. I pursued no further and left.

Good times don't last forever, they say, but you always feel that you'd be spared the rod. That something so terrible could happen to us came as a rude shock.
There was an abominable lull around the waiting area where my family sat. Tears would never stop. Meanwhile, my husband, brother-in-law, and I had become friends with some relatives of other ICU patients in the hospital. If you see pain and death there, you also see love, kindness and prayers.

"How is your mother-in-law?" a petite, 30-something woman asked me, very warmly. I couldn't stop noticing her sense of style. I would later find out her name was Deepa. She and her sister, both impeccably dressed, would be in the hospital every single day.
"She is stable, but not much improvement," I replied, tears clouding my vision. "Sorry, you are here for...?"
"Ah, my dad," she said. "He is just next to your mum. Whenever I go to see my dad I say a silent prayer for her too," Deepa touched my soul with those words.

This was during the initial days of hospitalisation.

In my own worries I had not bothered to look at other patients, their relatives and their sorrows. Over a period of time, I would learn about more people who saw their dear ones swing between life and death. And like me, who saw their loved ones go far away. Very far.

On one occasion, two old women sat next to me sobbing silently. Both were trying to offer strength to the other but tears wouldn't stop. Coming from an economically weak background -- her husband a carpenter and she a housewife -- a big worry was meeting the ballooning treatment costs for her 22-year old son who was struck a full-body paralysis. Fortunately, doctors had shown hopes, and said he would be normal soon. Her heart was sinking. He was her only son.

Another bloke by the name of Ashwin had made the hospital his abode for the last 2-1/2 months. His dad was battling brain hemorrhage. There was gradual improvement during the time we were there.
"The doctors here are great, you don't have to worry," Ashwin told me in the first week of us admitting my mother-in-law. And "even if it takes time, don't lose hope. Taj Mahal took years to build," he had once quipped.

Mummy, as I called her, had a pathetic diet regime and she would often get mad at us for forcing some food down her throat or pushing her out in the open for a leisure walk. She almost, always preferred to be home-bound, and a good way of getting her out was to take her shopping or for a Shah Rukh Khan movie.

When she got angry, we would all look for a place to hide. Sometimes, even the smallest things could bother her but she kept it all in her heart. Like all mums, she was great -- always willing to sacrifice, ever-ready to make that favorite dish that would bring a smile on our faces and sure to compromise in the terrible situations.

To be continued...