MATCHBOX

‘Epithelial ovarian carcinoma,’ declared the oncologist Dr Holmes. ‘Fourth stage,’ he added after studying Kaberi’s X-ray, blood, scans, and biopsy reports.

Prashanta and Kaberi sat opposite the doctor, stunned into silence. It was true that for a year or so, Kaberi had been experiencing some symptoms of illness—nausea, a lack of appetite, bloating, pain in the abdomen. They had become a part of everyday life, which until then had felt quite normal. Prashanta had never imagined it was anything serious. The possibility of something as terrifying as cancer had not occurred to them even in their worst nightmares.

‘What’s the prognosis then?’ Prashanta asked helplessly. ‘Usually after the diagnosis, an ovarian cancer patient lives for the next one to five years. However, these are just the statistics. It is not possible to give an individual prognosis for every patient,’ explained the doctor.

‘But…what now?’ Prashanta’s question sounded like a wailing.

‘We have to start the treatment right away. There will be a round of chemotherapy first, followed by surgery to remove the tumour. After that, we’ll begin combination chemotherapy. The fourth stage of this kind of cancer is beyond treatment, but we’ll have to mitigate the pain. Her lifespan can be extended too.’

Kaberi and Prashanta did not say a word to each other on their way back home. Each tried to deal with their thoughts in their own way. Their lives had changed in a matter of a day—how would they ever overcome this tragedy? The cancer patient’s agony is matched by the pain of those who love them. They too are rendered equally helpless, powerless.

Back home from the doctor’s chamber, Prashanta made Kaberi sit on a sofa in the living room.

He returned with two cups of coffee and sat beside Kaberi for a while, silent, speechless. Disconcerting moments hung furtively between them. Coffee spilled from Kaberi’s mug, which she was holding in both hands, on her skirt. Prashanta noticed how violently her hands were shaking. Kaberi held on to the mug tightly, as though her life depended on it.

‘What are you thinking?’ Prashanta asked after clearing his throat.

‘I suppose we won’t go boating on the Seine after all. No coffee and cake in the Latin Quarters either,’ mumbled Kaberi.

‘Why not?’ asked Prashanta.

‘Are you trying to console me? Our lives will not go back to normal, Prashanta. I know this. No matter how hard you try, we will never be the same again.’

It was true that the course of Prashanta’s and Kaberi’s lives had changed suddenly. Who could have known that Dr Holmes’s sparsely worded announcement one fine evening would turn their worlds upside down? That Kaberi’s existence could be tied down to just three words—ovarian cancer patient?

Nandini and their new son-in-law, Charlie wasted no time visiting them when they heard the news. They had returned from their honeymoon the same morning.

Hugging her mother tightly, Nandini asked, ‘How are you, ma?’

Smiling wryly, Kaberi answered, ‘Fourth stage. Ovarian cancer.’ A heartbroken Nandini looked at her mother silently.

Kaberi continued, ‘You know what the fourth stage means, don’t you? The cancer cells have left the ovary and spread to the lungs, liver, and lymph nodes.’ With a touch of relief, she added, ‘But they haven’t been able to reach my brain. The cancer’s been detected before that could happen.’

Kaberi saw Nandini looking at her uncomprehendingly. Perhaps Nandini didn’t know what to say. ‘Don’t worry,’ Kaberi continued. ‘Thanks to the treatment, the cancer cells will be stopped in their tracks as they race towards the other organs. The intervention of surgery, chemotherapy, and radiation will pulverise Mr Cancer.’

Nandini cooked under her mother’s instructions that evening. Mushur daal, rice, cauliflower, and prawn cutlets.

At the dinner table, it seemed to Prashanta that the news of Kaberi’s illness had, in a matter of a day, changed their happy and carefree relationship with their daughter and son-in-law. They were now separated by an invisible curtain. The fun-loving, jovial, and garrulous Charlie was sitting quietly with a sad smile, anxiety writ large on his face.

Nandini was lost in thought as she wondered what she could say at this moment without sounding melodramatic. Prashanta spoke, in an attempt to disrupt the silence at the dining table, ‘The prawn cutlets are delicious! Now this will no longer be just your mother’s signature dish.’

Kaberi laughed. ‘That’s right. Nandini. You’ll have to learn all my special recipes while we still have time.’

Father and daughter shared a look. Nandini said slowly, ‘Ma, you still have a lot of time on your hands. Now that you have taken long leave from work, I promise I will visit you every evening on my way back from the office. You’ll teach me a new recipe every day. Don’t forget you’ll also have to tell me the secrets of growing such a beautiful garden.’

‘So what’s the plan for treatment?’ Charlie butted in. Prashanta said, ‘First, she’ll be given a course of chemotherapy, followed by surgery to remove the tumour and the lymph nodes which the cancer cells have invaded. Then more chemo and radiation.’

At least, that was what Dr Holmes had told them. Chemotherapy would first shrink the tumour. Next, the surgery would remove the tumour in the ovary and connective lymph nodes, where the cancer cells were trying to accumulate. This would be followed by combination chemotherapy.

‘…A long journey ahead.’ Charlie said, almost to himself.

Indeed, a long journey towards the unknown had started. Will I make it? Kaberi asked herself.

Excerpted with permission from The Wrestler by Sayari Debnath, 2025. Published by BEE Books.