God is a white rabbit
Trigger Warning: Contains description on a fire accident
There is no good way to exit this earth. But any approach that helps save a life is a great one. And one may not find a route to its possibility immediately or, by oneself. A constant exploration and a certain optimism for its existence is the only requisite.
The story of a new patient in the Surgical Ward no. 3 at the hospital validates this tenet more than any I have ever heard before. She arrived today. A survivor of her own kind.
On Tuesday morning, she was a regular woman busy with the affairs of a rural life. By Tuesday afternoon she was witness to a life altering moment. Prime evidence of a confrontation between death and life.
It all began as she saw, from her window, a forest fire raging towards her house from a distance. She knew she had enough time to escape. But then as she reached her doorstep and overlooked the hill. The cowshed on the slope of her neighbours caught her attention. There was a newly born calf inside. The neighbours weren’t home. She had only a spilt second to decide and save the calf. She opted to go with her gut. The fire was fast approaching and she had faith.
She made it to the cowshed in time. Untangled the rope to free the calf. The calf ran out but the fire had arrived. It clawed its heat on to her saree and, within minutes, she was trapped in a circle of flames. “The cowshed felt like my resting place”, she said.
She added, "As I slowly spiralled into unconsciousness, a small white rabbit, emerged from a bush next to me and was slowly making its way out of the cowshed. I saw a hazy image of that rabbit and thought to myself, ‘If this little being is trying so hard to save his life, may be I, too, should not give up so easily.’ I found strength to pick myself up while still ablaze and I followed that rabbit out with a sharpened assurance.”
The next morning she found herself here on this hospital bed. “I had found my way to staying alive. I knew that rabbit was my God showing up, leading the way and resurrecting my hope. Perhaps my God is a white rabbit. A small frail possibility that there is still time—For me to plant another harvest, get another child married and to return home to see the mountains again without the fire.”
Shadows live and shadows die. However, there is a fleeting light that flickers to reveal why it matters to fight each fight, to wake up despite all that engulfed you while going to bed last night and to see a possibility where no one else does. For yourself. Over and over again.