Sad Days (1-3)

I went to her hospital today. She had lost her baby and I wanted to be with her as she went back home.

I got off the LRT and took the pedicab to the hospital. The rickety pedicab took me past a squatter area. In my half-aware state, I cringed at the familiar smell of shanties, sun-baked dust, and dirty bodies. Then a walled hospital loomed into sight. Fringed by dilapidated drugstores.

I go inside and the guard is some grade of dimwit. There is a line of folk queued at the Information Desk. A girl straight out of an anime sits with her back against the wall. She appears out of place. None too soon, I am walking inside the ward. The world takes on a surreal motion at this point. It feels like I am walking underwater.

The corridor is dim but it opens up to a medium-sized room full of white-robed bodies. I am engulfed by a million sensations. Desperation, sickness, grime, age... For a second, I feel that I have stumbled into a crazy hall. Did I make a mistake and end up in the psycho ward? But I see the sign. Post abortion ward. And I realize why there are way too many sick women. There are four to a bed. I see her at once. I don't go for embracing shit but I do envelope her in a hug when I see her. She doesn't belong there.

Dearest, I have never been one to wish for wealth. But from that second onward, how I wished for it. Then I could have saved you from an added misery. I only hope that I felt it more than you.

Sometimes, dearest, we go through the most difficult times of our lives. And you've survived through it. What doesn't kill you, makes you stronger. Living testament, that's me.

I love you dearest. I will always be here for you.