Thoughts from outside a hospital
I'm writing this while waiting at the entrance of Tata Memorial Hospital, Bombay. I'm here to accompany my uncle for his cancer treatment. This Nicheless post has no purpose. It's just a stream of consciousness from the perspective of a person in an unfamiliar situation.
Hospitals are a sobering place to spend time at. Hope and despair abound in equal measure. As I wait for my uncle to arrive, I can feel the force of the institution's gravity bring my wandering mind back down to earth. Yesterday, I had many problems. Today, I have one.
Memento Mori. Two words that are easy to understand but so difficult to truly grasp. Unless you live near a hospital, that is. I wonder if constant exposure to life's limits makes humans happier. Probably not. Because doctors aren't a particularly happy bunch. Maybe the stoics were wrong.
The roads outside are chaotic even at this early hour, typical of Bombay. But when a patient arrives and attempts to walk across, cars wait patiently, no matter their hurry. Again, typical of Bombay.
I've noticed that patients here have lost all sense of self-consciousness. It's quite heartening to watch, and not surprising in the least. No matter their condition, no matter what contraptions protrude from their battle scarred bodies, they do not seem to care what the world thinks of them.
Memento Mori again. Maybe focusing on life's limits won't make us happier. Maybe it'll just save us from wasting energy on problems that don't matter, allowing us to use it on the things that do. That's not so bad. Maybe I judged the stoics too soon.
Anyway, fuck cancer.