© Dr. Aparna Govil Bhasker
I prefer to carry lunch from home but some mornings get very busy and, on such days, I visit the hospital canteen. It’s a good place to catch up with colleagues too.
Yesterday, was one of those days.
A few of us were having lunch together chatting about this and that and somehow, the conversation turned to one of the regular attendants at the canteen. He wasn’t around that day and we were kind of missing his familiar smile and the affectionate way in which he always served us. Someone then remarked about how he had been working there for almost two decades. Twenty years! Time flies for sure!
And then another colleague mentioned another familiar face who had also been working in the same canteen for a long time.
As we spoke, it suddenly dawned on me that I hadn’t seen the other person in months. In fact, it hadn’t even occurred to me that he was missing.
I had simply assumed that perhaps he had been transferred to another department or had found another job. I hadn’t really given much thought to it.
And then I was told that he had infact developed cancer and had passed away some time ago.
Apparently, despite working in a hospital, he hadn’t spoken much about his illness to anyone.
He had just gone quietly.
I felt a sudden sadness. And something else too.
I felt bad that I hadn’t noticed his absence.
This was someone who had been part of the background of my working life off and on for almost two decades. And yet, when he disappeared, my life had simply carried on. I did not even notice.
I continued going to the hospital, having lunch at the canteen, meeting colleagues, getting on with my day.
And somewhere along the way, he had ceased to be there.
I’ve been thinking about that conversation since yesterday.
There are so many people in the hospital who form a part of our everyday lives without necessarily being close to us. The people who serve us food, greet us at the entrance, or are simply familiar faces.
We may not know much about their lives.
And yet, they become part of our lives in some ways.
This gentleman was not my friend. I knew very little about him beyond his familiar presence at the canteen.
But he had been there for so many years.
And now he wasn’t.
I suppose what bothers me most is how easily we can miss these little departures. How people can quietly disappear from the everyday landscape of our lives while we remain busy with our own concerns.
Perhaps that’s another aspect of learning to pay attention. Not just noticing the beautiful and delightful things around us, but also noticing the people who have always been there.
Sometimes, life passes us by without our even noticing. And sometimes, it takes an ordinary conversation over lunch to remind us of someone who quietly left it.