Metamorphosis: Episode 3
Sisters Of Mercy
The next several weeks consisted of lots of homework assignments and lot of parties. Gurpreet was not getting enough sleep, and would often show up late to classes. He would try to find a seat next to Michael Nesmith in Modern Physics, so that he could get an update on the lectures and copy the class notes. Michael begrudgingly helped him, but warned him on more than one occasion that he really needed to start showing up on time if he wanted a passing grade in the class.
It was the same for other classes. Gurpreet found himself constantly behind in the coursework and the homework assignments, and would rely on other class-mates to fill in the gaps. He was starting to fall behind.
But the parties continued. It seemed like there was one every night, and Gurpreet was somehow always invited. Once, he brought his books and tried to study for his test at a party. It was an experiment that he never repeated.
The clashes with his parents, particularly his father, continued. Gurpreet grew increasingly irritated by them, distancing himself emotionally from his family each time a shouting match happened. Finally, he felt nothing but resentment, and he decided to move out of the house. With Lee's help, he found an apartment near campus, and made the announcement to his parents on a Friday evening. They were both shocked, and sat quietly on the couch, not saying a word.
Finally, his mother looked up with sorrow in her eyes.
"But, why?" she asked quietly.
Seeing her like this, Gurpreet couldn't bear to tell her the truth. So he made up an excuse.
"It's closer to campus," he blurted out, "It's literally on campus. And I'll have roommates, so I won't be alone. It will be easier to get to class, and it'll be better for studies. And it will be easier for you too, you won't have to cook all the time for me—"
His father glared at him. Sensing a mis-step in his communication, Gurpreet cut off his sentence abruptly.
The following day was a Saturday. In the morning, he had already packed up a few bags with his clothes and other belongings, and after breakfast, he left his tearful mother and angry, stone-faced father and drove away with Lee to his small one-bedroom apartment, which he would be sharing with two other students. Lee knew his new roommates, they were avid party-goers.
That same weekend, Megan Anderson was sitting on the fourth floor of the college library, preparing for her midterm test that was scheduled for the coming Tuesday. She sat at the table, reading the Clinical Pharmacology text book. She yawned, turning the page for a new chapter. She was tired and needed a break.
Needing to stretch her legs, she got up and went for a short walk. As she wandered around the bookshelves, she found herself in the religious studies section. She casually ambled by the books, glancing at the various titles and thinking that people had so much to say about religion. Eventually a particular title caught her eye and she stopped to pick it up from the shelf. It was a book on Sikhism. She opened the front cover and glanced through the table of contents.
Hours later, when the day was fading and it was twilight, Megan was sitting on the floor in between the tall shelves, several books strewn all around her. She had read several of them already, and was deeply immersed in another thick volume. She looked up and glanced out of the far window, realizing how long she had been sitting there. She got to her feet and returned all the books to their respective homes on the shelf, except the huge one she was currently reading. This one she decided to borrow and read some more.
She hurried back to her study table, gathered all her textbooks and belongings, and headed downstairs to check out the book on Sikhism.
A week later, Gurpreet had settled into his new apartment. He was pleased with himself at the progress he had made. Everything was neatly arranged in his side of the bedroom. He was sharing the bedroom with one of his roommates, while the other roommate would sleep in the living room on the futon. They had collectively worked out a schedule for taking out the trash, rent payments, and divisions of groceries. They had established a system. Gurpreet felt free, and happy. He felt that his life was finally getting started.
The following months went by fast, and for Gurpreet it was a constant contest between studying and partying. He would make a monumental effort in the days before an examination, and because of that, would barely squeak by with a passing grade. But his averages were dropping. And the constant partying was the reason for his lack of sleep. He began to feel fatigued all the time. The semester would be ending in June, when they would have the final exams. Seemingly all of a sudden, time was starting to run short.
One Saturday morning, quite unusually, he received a telephone call from his mother. He was still in bed, his head hurting from the previous nights drinking. He answered the phone with some concern, as his mother had never called him like this before.
"Mom, what's wrong?" he asked groggily, propping himself up on one elbow.
"Sorry to wake you, Gurpreet," his mothers voice sounded quiet and low. "How are you, beta?"
"Oh, I'm fine," he replied, falling back into bed and pulling the covers up.
"How are your studies coming along? We haven't heard much from you."
"They're good. I'm doing alright."
"That's good to hear. Gurpreet, tomorrow they are observing Guru Arjan Sahib's Shaheedi Diwas at the Gurudwara. I wanted to ask you if you would like to come with us."
"Tomorrow? Oh, I have a lot of homework to do, it's due first thing on Monday, and I'm behind. It's really important for the grade in the class."
"Oh, ok," she sounded disappointed, "when will you come to visit, son?"
"Soon," Gurpreet lied, "whenever I get some free time, I'll come by."
"Ok son, all the best with your homework. God bless you."
Gurpreet hung up the phone with a pang of regret and guilt. He rolled over and fell back asleep. An hour later, around noon, he opened his eyes again, yawned and stretched, and then headed to the shower.
The next day, the Gurudwara was filled with sangat that had come to observe the Gurpurab. The Gurudwara was filled with activity consisting of keertan and katha. Outside, sevadars served chilled kachi lassi. The langar hall was full of sangat, and the sangat took turns doing seva. Sidhak Kaur had just completed chopping vegetables. She took her apron off and went over to the main tables where all the food was being served from large pots. Another sevadar came over hurriedly to refill his pot with daal. He saw her and quickly said, "Uncle and Aunty over there need some water." Sidhak nodded, grabbed a jug and some steel glasses and headed to the elderly couple to give them water. It was the Dhillons.
"Sat Sri Akal Uncleji, Auntieji," Sidhak said, leaning down to place the glasses before them and filling them with water.
"Sat Sri Akal, beti," they replied. Dhillon Aunty seemed delighted to see her, as she gave her a blessing.
"Gurpeet wasn't able to come?" Sidhak asked.
"No, beti," Dhillon Aunty sighed, "he is very busy with his studies. He has exams also and he has to study for them."
Sidhak nodded. "It's difficult, Aunty, I am just in the first year of med school and it's so overwhelming. There is just so much to study."
Dhillon Aunty and Uncle both nodded.
"You will succeed," said Dhillon Uncle emphatically, "you will pass with flying colors!"
Sidhak smiled, "Thank you Uncleji, with your blessing I will."
Later in the day, exhausted and thoroughly spent, but feeling totally fulfilled, Sidhak got into her car and drove out from the large Gurudwara parking lot and followed the route that she took every week. First stop was the Sisters of Mercy house, followed by a stop at the hospital, and finally back home for a quick nap before she went back to studying.
The Sisters of Mercy house was an organization that was run by a group of French nuns. They had established a place where the homeless could come in and get a shower, a hot meal, and a place to sleep. It was difficult and challenging work, helping the destitute, who often had problems with drug addiction, mental health issues, and physical ailments. The Sisters of Mercy had a full-time nurse on their staff, and a various other medical professionals did make volunteer visits once a day to perform assessments, evaluations and treatments for people who needed medical care but couldn't afford it.
Sidhak had met and befriended one of the young nuns years ago during the winter when she had observed her giving a blanket to a person who had been sleeping out in the cold on the street. That had led her to learn about the Sisters of Mercy, and ever since then, she had gotten involved with the organization and spent several hours a month volunteering and helping in various ways. One of the things she had successfully arranged was the delivery of extra langar. Every week in the Gurudwara, there was so much langar that was prepared that there was a lot of extra food. Rather than wasting it, Sidhak thought it could be used to feed the hungry who came in to Sisters of Mercy for a meal. So, every week, she would pack everything that was extra into containers, and drive downtown to the Sisters of Mercy house, and she and the staff would unload all the containers from the trunk of her car into the Sisters of Mercy kitchen, where they would re-heat the food and serve it.
The nuns were delighted and grateful for this help. And the Gurudwara management committee didn't see any objection either. It had become Sidhak's project, and she was happy to see the extra food being put to good use rather than being wasted. And the people eating the food appreciated the Indian flavors. One of them had even commented to Sidhak, "This is better Indian food than I've had at any restaurant!"
"That's because it's home-cooked and made with love!" Sidhak had replied, beaming a smile at him.
Her next stop after the Sisters of Mercy house was usually the hospital. These visits were not as filled with activity as the work she did at the Sisters of Mercy. But it was just as exhausting, if not more. Still, she looked forward to these visits, and the patients she came to visit would be waiting for her return eagerly.
The glass sliding doors of the hospital silently opened as she approached, and as she walked in, she was suddenly surrounded by doctors in white coats, nurses wearing scrubs, worried patients and family members, and other medical staff and hospital personnel. Each person seemed to have an urgent task to complete, either hurrying to their appointment or carrying the tray with the samples, or pushing the cart with medical equipment. Not a moment was being wasted.
Sidhak made her way down the hall to the elevators, and went up to the third floor, where she checked in with the front desk.
"Good afternoon Sidhak, great to see you!" the slightly overweight lady smiled broadly. "Dr. Gupta is on service today. Go on in, they've been asking about you."
Sidhak thanked her and then walked through the double-doors and into the ward. She walked into the first room, knocking lightly on the open door as she entered.
The aged patient lay on the inclined bed, a clear oxygen mask over her mouth and nose. She looked frail and weak, with wrinkled skin and a patch of thin white hair on her head. When she saw Sidhak, her eyes lit up and she motioned for her to come to the bedside.
Sidhak smiled and stood by the bedside, looking at Jean.
"How are you Jean?" she asked in a clear voice, just a little louder than she would have used for normal conversation.
Jean smiled widely, then shook her head. She lifted the oxygen mask briefly so she could speak.
"It's more treatment, more medication, more . . . all of this stuff!"
"Yea, I know," Sidhak replied sympathetically, taking Jean's hand in hers. "But it's necessary. You are allowing the doctors to do their job, I hope? And you are taking your medicines?"
"Bah!, medicines!" Jean said with contempt, "They want me to take so many pills a day, it's a joke! But I tell you what, last time, since you made me promise, I have kept my promise, and I am taking all the medicine."
"And are you feeling any better?"
"Not really," Jean shrugged playfully, "But I kept my promise to you, dear."
"You did indeed," Sidhak said, nodding. "thank you."
"Ah, it's fine," Jean waved it away. "Now tell me about you. Why haven't you found a nice young man to settle down with yet?"
"Too busy, I guess," Sidhak smiled, "And my studies are so much, I doubt I'd have time for him anyway."
"Take my advice, you're young, you should enjoy your life! You will always have time for studying, and you don't have to be wasting your time for old folks like me."
But despite what she said, Jean's eyes spoke volumes of gratitude that someone had come to see her. A lot of the other patients in the ward felt the same way, they were here alone and any family they did have would rarely visit. Sidhak's regular visits were consistent and she spent time talking with each of them, giving them moral support and encouragement and the experience that someone cared. The doctors and nurses had also gotten to know Sidhak well, and she had become friends with some of the nurses.
Every so often, a patient would pass away, and it was an inevitable time of sadness and grief. It served as a reminder of the impermanence and fragility of human life. Sidhak would often ponder on this as she stood in the empty hospital room, staring at the neatly made bed, replaced with clean sheets and new pillows. The last time she had been in this room, a terminally ill patient had laid on the bed in agony, struggling to breathe and desperately grasping at a chance to live, even in anguish. Now, he was gone. Perhaps he was out of his misery, at least.