PNS*

Hahaha, the old man laughed..

I raised my eyebrows.  Went back to the room, he was in.  Checked the note, jotted ‘Appa laughed, 20:14, 4 Apr 15’. Scrolling back, there wasn’t anything significant in the notes.  I sighed out, another mystery to solve.  It was a small, crisp one, I haven’t seen him make any bigger sounds, whatever great joke it may be, even during all those years when he was young.  Short and sweet is his favourite phrase.  He did that in almost anything he did.  Purpose, he used to say, is larger than anything in life.  He shared with us, with me and Amma, almost anything that he read, or got inspired on.  On one such sharing moment he said, growing old is a pain only for those who feel that their purpose is lost.  For those who have a purposeful living, any age is the same.  He had read somewhere.  He was quite different then, energetic and agile.

I sat for my dinner in deep thought. Feeling hungry and thirsty both at the same time.  Amma had laid dinner at the table. I went for the water and came back with half a bottle, too hungry to fill it full.  Sat on the chair, filled a plate with a small grub. Eat small when hungry is what I learnt from my Appa. Douse yourself when you are satiated. It had a philosophy. When you show restraint at that point of time, you can beat any temptation afterward. Dousing after satiation will actually never happen. You would be in full control by then. Also you must have food only when needed, and not when you like.

Thus, finished dinner, took a look at the Man on the bed side. He was glancing through a paper. I remembered I had written to him that letter, the paper he held in his hand. I now know he had read it in the morning, laughed for the contents now. Strange as it may sound, I am sure I can explain and you will understand..

A few months earlier..

Hahaha, the old man laughed..

It was 8 in the morning. Me and Amma, we all had overslept and woke up very late. I was getting late to my office. I had taken an internship with a very big ad agency and was into a huge project, big monies with big banner. I had lost count of nights and days and got too deep into my work.

Woke up to his laugh, to which I was wondering why he laughed. There were no books, no mobile or any sort of reading material near him. He must have recalled something. Some kind of a joke. Appa was always very early to rise, no matter what time he goes to sleep. He was fresh, bathed and well perfumed. All around us was as usual, just in its place. Except the bathroom door, which had piece of its fibre broken. I went closer to check, found some water splattered at the corner. From the slight stripes seen on the floor, stripes made of thin dust and water, I guess it was a skid mark. With just three of us at home, it came clear that Appa had fallen down and could have taken a hit in some part of his body. I looked for him, he was lying in bed, eyes open and murmering something. Getting closer, I knew he was chanting the morning mantras, some I could follow and many I couldn’t. All were his routines. When he had some time left, before going out for his work, he would, read, chant, listen. To him time was too precious to be wasted and cannot be spent on anything that is not living.  A marginal difference he made between hyper active and super active.  To me and Amma, his super activity was sickening.  He would hardly rest, always after something, as if he was the only one who makes the earth orbit around the sun; when he sleeps the world would come to a stand still.  Over.. I had said a couple of times, seeing his endless routines.

Now, he was behaving an exact opposite.  Laughing at some thing, talking to some one looking at the wall.  Ate his food cold and dry.  Slept at odd hours.  Stopped watching TV.  Earlier, he would watch it even the most boring kind of programmes of any vintage, almost anything.  One thing that hadn’t changed is his reading.  In fact, nowadays he is reading a lot. Since I liked this habit of his, I would keep his table always filled with the newspapers, books, and magazines that were coming in.  He had a knack of browsing through the flying pages of the magazines.  Earlier, we would challenge him on any page that we believed he wouldn’t have read – but to our dismay, he would elaborate on that page.  He would also add his bits and pieces weaved into it, knowledge that he had acquired somewhere, sometime ago.

Appa was now too unresponsive.  No, no. Unresponsive is not the right description. That will be very unfair to him. His responses were very very slow.  In the month’s time that had gone by, I started making notes of his activities and only after taking volumes of notes, I could now follow and confidently say that he had a delayed response system.  If I speak to him now, he would talk about it in about seven hours from now.  If I am not there in the same place as I stood or if he is not in the same place as he stood seven hours ago, his eyes will look at an abstract place in the same direction and render the response of the discussion that had happened seven hours ago.  His food timings too had become very erratic. We have to place it on his table and make sure we did not leave it closed.

We were all too worried.  Amma broke down a number of times, watching him do bizarre deeds.  To me,while being deeply concerned and worried about the change of events, and continuous inquiries from the family members and friends, it was a big mystery to solve.

I had just walked out of the Doctor’s cabin.  Needed to know more about this thing called Parmerton’s Syndrome*. My notes had indeed helped in arriving at the diagnosis.  I wanted to come to terms with this as soon as possible.  Also, I wanted to put down on paper, the entire discussion, may even call it a discourse, from the Doctor.  He had said too many things too quickly.  I realised, I was walking very fast in the corridor of the Hospital.  I could sense all eyes looking at me, some I noticed, were inquiring visually as to what went wrong.  In the few days of my visits here with Appa, some became very familiar.  On any other day, they would beam a warm smile at me.  Today, I know all of them were keen to know, what I am going through.  I was in a hurry, I had not time to display courtesies.  The faster I wanted to decipher this code called PNS*, more faster were my movements.  The corridor seemed to have grown longer today.

I entered the room, me and Appa were allocated.  He was lying in bed, looking out through the door, not noticing me entering through the same door.  Parmerton’s Syndrome*, I told to myself again and again.  Slipped my laptop out from my bag, it popped the light immediately, saying “I’m awake”.  I don’t do the shut down business with my lappy, against the advises the old man had made numerous times; ‘shut it down, it will save energy and the hard-work you do’.  Truly, I can’t afford a crash, especially at this time, when my Project is so close to bursting out, but habits are hard to make.  Few things, I found it natural to me, of which one important thing is ‘Not to follow’.  My theory of understand is, if everyone was so prompt in following, this world would not have been so lively, innovative and sophisticated. Of course, there is good, bad and the ugly in ‘not following too’.

Back to Parmerton’s Syndrome*.  I googled it, it didn’t wait for me to enter, threw out : ‘Parmerton’s Syndrome* (2015) PNS‘ is a delay in neural reflexes of section b – being the upper parts of the human brain.  Section b is the central work shop of the brain where stimuli of various kinds, visual, audio, kinesthetic and olfactory signals are assimilated, researched and responses decided and dispensed.  I was amazed reading about the Brain. It processes billions of signals, sifts through them and draws meaningful decisions from them. Being the rational side of the brain, in a normal person the responses are out and done in a matter of a few hundred milliseconds.  The same processing for a person with PNS* is expected to vary from a few seconds to few hours and in some rarest case, few days too.  Loss of dopamine in the brain is one of the causative factors for this condition.  Section a being the lower part of the brain closer to spinal chord, has faster, less-processed reflex activities which have a cycle of few micro seconds only.  Googling further, there were many medical papers and FAQs on PNS*.  I came across a special action group named PNSAG* who were a group of volunteers who help in counseling and helping the families in PNS*.  I learnt that PNS* is a very rare disorientation – not a disease at all.  It is caused due to chemical imbalance in the cortex of brain, which affects the communication process through the neuro cells and delays the processing of mid-brain signals. When treated with vitamin supplements and  stimulant drugs accompanied with physio and psychotherapy PNS* can be corrected in a period varying from 6 months to 2 years. If not treated, it can worsen the situation and lead into many unforeseen complications. In short, Appa is having PNS*and would need continuous attention.  Every delayed activity will impact his health and his delayed responses shall affect the people around. Strangely though, I heard it on the radio that day, that dopamine can be increased by playing video games.  The satan in me woke up for a second and said, ‘Appa, you were not happy when I played the video game, and you hardly played it.  All work no play could have lead to this state.  I want you to see now, playing video games is healthy too Maybe, I would have to bring my Xbox here and make you play.’  After the satan left, I recalled, ‘that fall near the bathroom some days ago could have been the trigger for your PNS*’. 

Hahaha, the old man laughed..

Four months have gone by since we first noticed him languish.  I had maintained writing notes for him and leaving it open on the table for him to read and understand.  He must have laughed for the one I wrote last night. We had now in a way, come to terms with PNS*.  I took him for weekly sessions with the therapist and fortnightly visits to the Doctor. The Doctor had asked us to keep him under close monitoring. His caution to us was that delayed responses can be fatal, if he has to be left alone. Keep him tied, which we never agreed or did.  Doctor had advised us to find a method to communicate to him.  Therapists had helped us immensely in keeping him Fit.  More importantly, I discovered that writing to him worked.  He read through the notes and did respond seven hours later. I made it clear to Appa what we are into; the diagnosis and prognosis.  Of all the letters and notes I wrote to him, I remember the first one, in which I was pouring out my care and concerns for his well-being.  One particular statement kept coming back and forth, ‘Appa, please help me – help you’.

The people in the firm he was working with were generous to let him rest during the initial period of four months.  After four months, one day, one of their senior members came to our house in the evening and told me and Amma, that they are not in a position to support us revival was uncertain. Since there was no clear timeline for the cure and his joining office, Appa cannot be part of their firm anymore.  I had anticipated this and so when Amma was trying to buy some more time, I had foreclosed the discussion.  Thanked him, told him we understood;  shook hands and saw him off.  I had no clue of what else could be done.  Many of his colleagues had visited our house and were very empathetic and encouraging.  They spoke high of him and portrayed an Appa I had never seen.   It all seems that he was very playful at work and not such a serious person – as we had believed him to be.  I had imagined, his head dunked into his desk like an ostrich – an image I would often create of my Appa at work.

The Gaming Console was always left ON.  Just to make it available for the old man to play anytime (remember he needs seven hours to act) that he wished to.  He needed dopamine I said to myself.  I would also play sometimes, to avoid getting too thoughtful about the situation the family is in.  The drop in revenues due to Appa’s ailment and loss of work had reduced our living.  My internship came handy to face the essentials.  A big change here, I came close to my Appa and started behaving a father to him.   I was sure, when he returned to normalcy, we would talk more and even play more games.  Now, I got into the habit of having two clocks.  One with Appa’s time and one with actual.

I understood the old man had now read my note.  To make sure it was the same that I had written this morning, I picked it from the able and read through the note once again myself. I had written, ‘I see a big opportunity for you Appa.  You can become the Writer,  that you always wanted to be.  In your current health condition, there can’t be any better occupation that is safer and more rewarding than being a Writer.  You can write fiction*.  I had read couple of your stories earlier, you are good at it.  This will also not conflict with your delayed clock.  PNS* has in a way done good to you.  In your search for Purpose to everything in life, I am sure we can put this PNS* too to Purpose.  Love you.. “