Viji’s Diary

Nobody asked me to tell my story, but I desperately want to say a few things. All of you who know me know how difficult it is to shut me up when I begin talking and yes, writing also, so maybe that is why nobody asked me…But indeed it was me who asked everyone to write their “story”.

Isn’t it strange, calling real life, excruciatingly real and alive, a story? I am surprised not one of you turned around and said, “What do you mean, ‘our STORY’? We are having real life experiences here, not some fairy tales or ”ghar ghar ki kahaniya…“ Instead, each one of you just put down your lives on paper and gave them to me just like that. For this alone, a very big Thank You!!!

Some of you thought it an honour, some were happy to share. Others wanted to share after learning from others…that it is indeed possible to talk about yourselves and Rajeev wrote only because I threatened never to hug him again Hey Rajeev, caught you there but you know I would have never carried out that threat!!!

My favourite writer P.G. Wodehouse once said “There are two ways of writing, (one is…) a sort of musical comedy without music and ignoring real life altogether; the other is going deep down into life and not caring a damn.” My friends of Max here have chosen the latter and definitely not given a damn, but I can hear the music in their stories and the magic of pure laughter in these outpourings. These are not stories but songs set to the purest of melodies, taking me on the wings of Love and Laughter, to a place where there is only hope and happiness and lessons in, yes, Love. Unconditional and uncomplicated Love. Seriously, it is all about love and learning, and both are timeless and endless. One can never love enough, one can never learn enough. So you keep on loving and keep on learning and take everyone you meet on this voyage with you.

So much of love and so much of learning. I have been allowed to witness the trauma of families who have been sucked, helpless and floundering, into the vortex of a life-threatening disease, and I have then seen them rally around and with the twin weapons of love and faith emerge strong and secure in their love for each other. In the end love is all that matters; all you need is love.I would like to share with all of you a couple of “stories“ from my diary… read on.

  • 2011

    Every year, during the All India Friends of Max meet we bring out, our by now well loved and eagerly awaited Book of Stories. Printed in different regional languages, this collection of simple sharing opens windows into the lives of […]

  • EPILOGUE 2010

    November 2009   Young Mangesh was approved into the programme last week and he came with his mother, a daily wage earner, yesterday, to collect his first supply. Very normal, routine process of course as it is with any new […]

  • 2008

    This year has been a very special year for Shajahan.His Max Station and dear Beena Chechi would like to add to his story sent last year Max’s 35th birth anniversary fell on the 19th of October, 2008. And Shajahan chose […]

  • EPILOGUE 2008

    When Dilip Lokhande came to visit in October I realised I had not seen him all of this year. Dilip is a very special person in my life (more on that later) and so I was very happy to see […]

  • 2007

    Fourteen year old boys can be an absolute delight or absolute terrors. What was a heart wrenching surprise  was the demeanour of this fourteen year old boy, weak from not having been diagnosed for over two months and in pain […]

  • 2006

    I spent a major portion of today with two fathers and their respective sons. Ajay, newly diagnosed and only son of his father Nandlal. And Ashwin, newly diagnosed father and his physician son Sushil. Their love and concern for each […]

  • 2005

    This ray of sunshine walked into my office half an hour ago. Shivam. He studies in 6th grade and would love to play cricket the whole day – “par Naani ji nahi maanti” (“but my grandmother will not allow that”). […]

  • 2004

    I first met Mohammed almost four years ago, weak from Interferon therapy, alone and friendless and very afraid in Mumbai, only about 21 years of age (he comes from UP.) Some pehchan walla (acquaintance) from his village had guided him […]

  • 2003

    Today Alfreda came to the office. She came straight from Tata Memorial Hospital after her Bone Marrow Aspiration. As always she was full of chatter and laughter, wanting to ask a hundred curious questions and wanting answers to each of […]

  • 2002

    Tall and broad-shouldered, incredibly handsome, his eyes a warm amber never without a smile in them, a fine figure of perfect health, persuasive with a voice that can cajole a parrot off its perch, Ashish is someone who can make […]