My father was the world to me. An individual who was, and still is, the source of inspiration in my life. One day, he was diagnosed with acute septicemia. It is a life-threatening condition caused by bacterial infection of the blood. It spreads rapidly throughout the body and results in failure of the vital organs such as the kidneys, lungs, liver and the heart.

When I came to know about his condition, I immediately moved him to one of the best hospitals in the city. But the doctors had their own share of doubts about my father’s survival. They did not offer much hope when I had a chat with them. The fight for survival was on and I knew my father would not give up very easily. He had been through a lot of difficult situations in his time. I knew he was not the meek type who would wilt under pressure.

Although the situation presented a possible end to his life, he still behaved as I expected him to. He was as strong as ever. There was no fear in his eyes, no hint that could tell me he was afraid of leaving us forever.

The doctors started the treatment and their first objective was to stabilize his blood pressure. It was too low. On the second day of treatment, my father finally started to respond positively to the medicines. But our joy was short-lived. He began developing some complications. He needed blood immediately but the hospital had a policy. In order to get blood from their blood bank, we would have to replace the same number of units that we would take. Unfortunately, I was not a qualified donor since I had jaundice at that time. But help soon came in the form of my friends. I was working as a trainer in a well-known organization. As soon as my colleagues and students came to know about the situation, they came in large numbers and donated their blood generously. I am eternally indebted for what they did.

Leg-amputation

On the ninth day, the doctors informed me that in order to save my father’s life, they would have to amputate his leg. I was in a dilemma on whether or not to give my consent for the surgical procedure. The dilemma was caused by the fact that according to the doctors, there was only a slim chance of his survival even after the surgery.

I discussed the matter with my father. After listening to me, he said: “It doesn’t matter whether I live or die, but remember one thing, that you have tried your best to save me and you have served me well.” This gave me strength and I finally gave my consent. I signed the papers for the operation to be performed. When the nurse and other staff members were taking my father to the operation room, I couldn’t say anything to him. I just looked at his face. He gave a broad smile which reassured me that I would see him alive again. At that time, I had more faith in the strong will of my father than in the doctors. I was sure that he would pull through.

After a few tense hours, the doctors emerged from the operation room and, to my delight, announced that the operation had been successful. My father was doing well.

Later that day, my father was shifted back to the intensive care unit. When I met him he was his usual self. He had lost a leg but that seemed to be a small price for him to pay for the extension of his life. Two more days passed but there wasn’t any significant improvement in his health. My father’s condition was stable but the threat to his life was still imminent. I could tell because the doctors kept checking on him almost every single minute of the day.

A long chat about life

On the thirteenth day, I went to see my father as I did the other days. I had a long chat with him about a lot of things. He shared his attitude towards life with me. He told me: “I have lived a long and eventful life and although many of my advices and principles might have sounded harsh to you at times, all I ever wanted from life is a smile on your face. You have been a good son, you have carried out your responsibilities efficiently until today. And now the time has come for you to grow and become an equally good husband and father. Everyone has to die some day and I am not sure how long I will live. I want you to know that I love you, your mother, and all your siblings. Your happiness is the only parameter for me to check how good I have been as a father and I hope I have done well.”

I kept thinking about his words for the rest of the day and the only question that came to mind was the timing of that chat. Later that day when I went to see him, he told me that he wanted to see my son. He was very fond of him and he used to spend a lot of time playing with him because he is his only grandson. But due to the reluctance of the doctors and the possible threat the disease posed to the health of children, I could not take my son to see my father.

That night in August 2008, I was sitting in the waiting room at the hospital. Suddenly a nurse called for me and I rushed to the ICU. My father had stopped breathing due to heart failure. The doctors and staff members were trying their utmost best to revive him. I was standing at the door and could not do anything to save my hero, the only person I ever idolized. He passed away. The words he spoke earlier in the day started resonating in my head. I could not even dare to shed a tear as he always wanted me to smile; or probably it was the sheer effect of shock and disbelief. My hero lost the ultimate fight of his life, but he will never lose the place he holds in my heart.

The words he spoke on that final day of his life are imprinted in my heart and soul. On that day, my father successfully transferred his beliefs, attitudes, and principles of life to me. I grew up from a son into being a responsible father, brother, and husband.