Recovery

The worst part about an illness is losing your appetite. Losing your appetite for the physical things - the food, the taste, the smell is inextricably linked to the loss of appetite in all important aspects - Life. I was so sick that I didn't even wash my face. The only thing I looked forward to and longed for was peaceful sleep. Even that was limited. I prayed for less discomfort. Every day, a new body part ached and I took deeper breaths. More than the pain, it was just plain exhausting. One looked at life through a very narrow scope - please hurt less. Then, as if a different coloured paintbrush had dropped into a well of greyish muted colours, everything started changing. Nothing drastic of course. No deus ex machina. The fever went away. I could laugh again. The television shows on the same few channels became mildly amusing, some moments even touched me. I was grateful they touched me. I longed to be home again. The appetite has not quite returned, but at least, in the ways that are important - I'm home - and I see the colours from the view of my window.