1460 Days of Quiet Contemplation: Alka’s Journey

It’s been 1460 days since life as we knew it came to a screeching halt on Nov 21.

Four years of stillness, and yet, immense strength. Four years since my wife Alka – my best friend– suffered a brain stroke that turned our vibrant, spirited lives upside down.  

You wouldn’t think it could happen to someone like her. One minute she was discussing the next day's activities while at the dinner table and the next, she's crumbled. 

She was the picture of health and happiness. A woman full of life, brimming with energy, always ready to help, laugh, pray, or pull someone out of their gloom.

She wasn’t just my wife; she was my anchor, the glue that held us all together. A God-fearing soul who believed in the power of kindness and prayer, Alka lit up every room she walked into.  

And then came that night.  

It was midnight – the hour when the world is at its quietest and fears seem the loudest. She complained of a sudden dizziness, her words slurring just a little, and then… silence. I still remember the frantic drive to the hospital, she curled up on the back seat, clutching her hand, whispering prayers, and battling the terrifying thought that I might lose her.  Friends, neighbours and doctors hovering around her and comforting an inconsolable me. 

She survived. Thank God, she survived. But when she opened her eyes, something had changed.

Words that once flowed freely were tinged with fear and doubt. Movements that were once graceful and effortless were now a struggle. Alka – the woman who couldn’t sit still for a second – was now confined to a world of quiet contemplation.  

These past four years have taught me more about life and love than I ever thought possible.

I’ve seen her fight every single day, in ways big and small. From moving a finger after months of therapy to flashing a smile that speaks more than words ever could, she’s shown me what resilience truly looks like. 

She's moved on from the painful slow shuffle to a faster walk pace. Her aches and pains have reduced, like her medications.She's moved on from being on the bed most of the time to sitting for hours in the hall, helping with cooking while sitting in the kitchen, reminiscing of our travels and stay in Dubai or voicing her strong opinions on the current political situation in Maharashtra with a few days to go before the state elections. 

It hasn’t been easy.

There are days when the weight of it all feels unbearable – the frustration of seeing her struggle, the bouts of depression, the tears, the fears, the long lonely nights of staring into the dark.

But then, there are moments that make it all worthwhile.

Like the way her eyes light up, or how she holds my hand just a little tighter when I’m telling her about my day or her loud laughter at funny incidents she recounts.

Alka might not be able to do the things she once did, but her spirit is still very much alive. She’s still the same kind, generous soul who prays for everyone before herself. And while she might not do or say much these days, her quiet strength speaks volumes.  

1460 days of quiet contemplation. Four years of finding joy in the smallest of victories, like when she stands and walks unassisted. And a lifetime of gratitude for the lessons she continues to teach me – about love, patience, and the unbreakable human spirit.  

Here’s to you, Babu. My warrior, my inspiration, my heart and my Best Friend. 

Trust me: We WILL overcome.