Mahima Singh

My accident was a brief encounter with myself. One is never prepared to handle the surprises that await us in the journey called life. Losing a body part was never even a part of my most horrific nightmares. For a while my thoughts made it feel as if I were a ship amidst the most treacherous seas.

I was petrified at the sight of my mutilated fingers, a lingering numbness engulfed my mind, which caused severe conflict between my mind and body, where my body showed desperate attempts in asking for help whereas my mind made me believe I was nothing more than a burden. This was the largest conflict between mind and body I had to deal with in the last 40 years, which I called my life.

The pain and more

I went through a six-hour surgery, however, the inertia of numbness continued lingering within me but the hope to see my hand which was born anew kept me going. I had several bouts of depression and anxiety, which led to intense and non-stop moments of severe mental anguish at the thought of my loss. I was in total non-acceptance of what I had lost, and in my heart I knew there was no U-turn. I was grateful to be alive in the middle of the Covid summer of 2020.

It was a long-drawn journey of victimhood and self-pity. The ongoing mental trauma, excruciating physical pain and emotional fatigue made me feel as if I were being sucked into an empty abyss of isolation.

I was surrounded by fear, anxiety, self-doubt, low self-esteem and surmounting guilt of not having taken care of myself. I didn’t have the heart to face others. I often wailed uncontrollably like a child. I felt grateful again for having my husband and son by my side, some friends equally shared my shock and grief while my family couldn’t cross the border due to lockdown protocol.

It took me a while to come to terms with my new self, which was ‘a little less of me’. It was a long-drawn journey of victimhood and self-pity. The ongoing mental trauma, excruciating physical pain and emotional fatigue made me feel as if I were being sucked into an empty abyss of isolation. The question that kept haunting me was, “why me?”, and the answer to this question is becoming ever more elusive to me. Until I realised that this experience, this life and its entirety is just a series of undetermined cosmic events.

Reinventing

The grit of life’s longing for itself kept pushing my spirit till I began a new journey after the longest crawl through the darkest tunnel. I learnt nothing is eternal, surely not my mental trauma, excruciating physical pain and emotional fatigue. Everything passes, and the phrase ‘this too shall pass’ made more sense now than ever. I was left with one choice: suffer in my lonesome and derivative mental preoccupation or take one more step forward with gratitude for having made it so far and the desire to go further.

The grit of life’s longing for itself kept pushing my spirit till I began a new journey after the longest crawl through the darkest tunnel. I learnt nothing is eternal, surely not my mental trauma, excruciating physical pain and emotional fatigue.

I gradually used my left hand to relearn how to use my right one, including basics like holding a pen. I relearned the arts of writing, painting and driving. I learnt that life is not about perfection but the progress and the effort one puts into getting better.

Despite the doctors doubting me, here I am using my hand normally and writing. This was nothing short of a miracle. Now I felt the companionship of a supreme power, a power that guided me in the darkest of moments, this very supreme power was always within me but despite my 40-plus years on this earth I only tapped into it post my accident when I had left everything up to faith. Here I learnt that not everything is for us to decide or control but it is for the supreme power to govern and for us to accept in a form of unconditional surrender.