VINITHA

Vinitha.



She was one of the many young nurses who worked with me in India. Tall, pretty with her bright, rounded eyes and curly hair. What was striking with Vinitha was her ever smiling face. I like my nurses smiling. Smiles thus whilst away our pains and sorrows. Smiles are comforting to one’s soul.



A dedicated and efficient nurse, I assigned her to manage the female general ward which housed the medical and surgical cases and the female burn’s unit. This was no mean feat but she pulled it off with her usual confidence and managerial skills.



Her patients and their families loved her. Doctors loved her. Her colleagues respected her.I believed her.



It used to be my routine to visit the critical cases first. The patients of course wouldn’t be able to recognize this but I visit the family to offer my counsel and consolation if necessary. Besides, there were the nurses who were bound to be more stressed out and who really needed all the encouragement to carry on with the challenges before them.



Vinitha used to call me ‘Helen Ma’am’. The only one to do so. On Sundays, she relieved me from my administrative duties and she did so happily and intelligently.



There were times when she used to come to me with tears expressing her hurt over this and that. I particularly remember how she patiently and lovingly brought a burn patient out from the brink of death. Every day, she used to give me an update of her patient’s condition and whenever I visited her ward, she accompanied me to this particular case to have a look at the progress. I was pleased with the team’s work. I was proud of these young nurses who so early in their life had to care and face such painful situations of humankind. Not that burns is uncommon in India. It is very common till this day. Bride burning, dowry harassment and the like.



In India, an arranged marriage is a practice that to this day is very much in vogue. Love marriages do happen these days. Even live-ins. But a good percentage of love marriages and live-ins do not work and hence, do not last. They fail because marriages without parental consent are doomed to fail for the couples can’t and won’t expect parental support. And of course, there is the caste system to consider. This is my observation as I do an anthropological study of this society which seems to appear too complex for the outsiders.



At one time, Vinitha had gone for a month’s leave. It was for her wedding to a guy chosen by her parents for her. But not before showing me the pictures of the probable mate.



She was glowing in her sari when she came back and introduced me to her husband. I remember telling him to take care of her well before she went showing off her husband to everyone in the hospital. Happy, happy Vinitha.



Vinitha is dead now. The girl who so tenderly nurtured her burn patients back to life ironically died of severe burns inflicted on her by herself. Her marriage did not turn out to be a fairytale. Arranged marriages do fail after all.



She crossed my thoughts today as I was coming to work. I breathe a prayer for her soul that she may find her everlasting peace and happiness and be enveloped in love by the angels. She was my professional colleague but most of all, she was my friend and for this alone, I am thankful.