I am Bhupendra Rathore, resident of Shajapur district of Madhya Pradesh. My wife died 2 months ago. I am that unfortunate husband who could not even attend his wife’s funeral. I somehow applied vermillion and bindi on her during her last journey, but
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Her dead body wrapped in a red saree was lying on a stretcher. To people it might have been a dead body, but to me it was my wife, Manisha. With whom I was in love since the time when there were letters and letters.
I was lying on the other stretcher next to me. There were so many fractures in the waist and hands that he could not even get up from the bed. I couldn’t even get up and look at his face to my heart’s content. Every woman wants to die married. Her husband remained with her till her last breath.
She has now left me to live only with her memories. I couldn’t even see her laughing, smiling face for the last time. Neither could kiss the forehead. Nor could he caress her forehead.
I was not even worthy enough to stay on the cot or in any way accompany my wife in her funeral procession. In the last journey, I was able to apply vermilion and bindi on my forehead just as per the request of my wife.
Bhupendra Rathore is looking at the photo of his wife Manisha Rathore’s dead body. After donating his organs, his wife was dressed in red clothes.
It is about 3rd November 2024. The festival of Bhaidooj is celebrated on the third day of Diwali. Early in the morning I told my wife that I have to go to Indore to visit my sister’s house, then she said – I am not feeling well. You go alone. I said- Okay.
When I was ready to leave in the afternoon, she said – I am also leaving. Started getting ready. I said- If you are not well, then leave it. He said- Hey, everything is fine.
We both left for Indore by car around 4 o’clock. My elder brother’s family was also there. Then after reaching sister’s house, we left Indore for Shajapur at 9 pm.
On the way, my wife said let’s stop at some dhaba and have tea. I have gone to Indore many times to take him to the doctor, but till date he had never asked me to stop and drink tea on the way. We stopped. We drank tea, he also ordered an extra tea. I didn’t know that this tea would be our last tea together. The day started every day by sitting together and drinking tea. She finished over tea.
After drinking tea, as we moved ahead for some distance, suddenly a cattle came on the road. The car must have been at a speed of 80. Suddenly the vehicle lost its balance and collided with a culvert. The vehicle was blown away. There were only 20 minutes left to reach home from the place where the accident happened, but my wife could not reach home.
I was driving. Caught in air bag. My wife was sitting right behind me and other people were with her. Everyone was hurt. My elder brother and nephew told that I was not conscious after that. After some time, with the help of a private vehicle and some people, we all were brought to a hospital in Indore for treatment.
Picture of Bhupendra Rathore’s car after the accident. He had bought this car only for his wife.
I was in another ward and my wife was in another ward of the ICU. When he regained consciousness, he searched for his wife. The doctor told that he is being treated in another ward. There is a slight injury on the forehead. Too much blood has come out. I was hoping that now she will come to me…now she will come to me….
After a day or two the surgery on my hand took place. After the plate was installed, I tried to go to my wife’s ward. I was not able to get up from the bed. After doing MRI, the doctor said that there is a fracture in the waist. This will also require surgery.
It is about 7th November. The family members were not in a position to tell anything. The doctor said that your wife had become brain dead and was no more in this world. As soon as I heard this, I started crying bitterly. I started thinking that even in this last journey, if we had said goodbye to the world together, I would not have been alone today.
Why did you leave me alone? When an accident happened, why was I unlucky? If only ! She does not come with me that day. She was also saying – He (me) should not feel bad. So that they don’t feel sad, I also came with them.
When the doctor told me that I could not get up from the bed, I felt as if someone had tied me to the bed. My wife’s dead body was lying on another stretcher in front and I could not even touch it. Couldn’t even see.
Then I said to the family, at least let me pay his demand on his last journey. Somehow I was able to reach her demand. I was able to fill it with vermilion.
Bhupendra bid farewell to his wife by applying vermilion and bindi on her forehead.
Then the doctor said- Your wife can give life to others even while dying. Some of his organs are fine. If you want, you can donate. His memories will live on with the organ. I agreed.
My wife’s kidney was transplanted to a woman living in Mandsaur, Madhya Pradesh. That woman was on dialysis for 7 years. He has 4 daughters. Both my wife’s eyes were fixed on a person.
Even though my wife is dead in the eyes of the world, she is still alive for me. Gave life to two people while leaving.
That time was so unfortunate for me that my wife’s dead body was at home and I was in the hospital. The family members traveled to the city with the body to give the message of organ donation. My son performed the last rites of his mother.
Today when I look at my house, it seems as if he is somewhere here. I don’t even feel that he is not in this world. Now there are just his pictures.
When I go into the room, I cry secretly from everyone. The namkeen he had prepared is still left, I eat it sometimes. I don’t let anyone else eat. It seems to never end.
Many dishes were prepared on the day of Diwali. I said- Manisha, I feel like eating dal-baffle. You cook very well. He quickly said- Will make it tomorrow. That tomorrow will never come now.
Bhupendra Rathore becomes emotional when he sees the picture of his family. In this he is with his wife Manisha and son and daughter.
Sometimes I wonder how my life will be in the future. There are two children in the house, a daughter and a son. The daughter will get married and go to someone else’s house. Son is currently doing B.Tech.
It is about this Diwali. My son had come home from Vadodara, Gujarat. I didn’t tell that my son was coming. We wanted to give a surprise. As soon as I brought her home from the station at 4 in the morning, she was standing in the balcony of the house. Don’t know how, he had realized.
As soon as the mother and son arrived, they hugged as if it was their last meeting. This is what happened, now he will never be able to hug his mother. Thinking about all this makes my heart burst. The throat gets choked. Eyes start watering.
Coincidentally, my wife’s mother died a month and a quarter before Diwali. When I went to her funeral, I started crying after seeing my mother-in-law’s picture in front of me. I started wondering what would happen to me if my wife also left me. Look today, the same thing happened to me.
Mother had passed away, so this time she did not want to celebrate Diwali. He suppressed his grief for the happiness of his family. Daughter had come from Pune. Son from Vadodara. She celebrated Diwali with everyone like she did every year.
Now that Diwali will never come!
We were around 50, but we still lived like love birds. Our love started in 1996. Actually, we both met in a family party. We ate ice cream together for the first time. Then gradually the family members came to know about these things.
Bhupendra Rathore and Manisha got married in 1998 after the consent of the family.
My family has lived in the city since the beginning. Papa was in service. It is an educated family. Manisha was from a farmer family. My family did not like this relationship. My family wanted me to get married somewhere else. I said- I will not marry any other girl.
After 3 years the marriage took place with the consent of the family. I was working in a private company at that time. From there he used to write letters for Manisha. Used to make many promises. Even today he had preserved all those letters. Whenever there was any argument between us, she would say, I will bring the letter and show it. You had promised this… We both started laughing.
Before 2010, we lived in poverty. There was a small room, which could barely accommodate a bed and a wardrobe. We both and the children lived here. Then I bought a land and built a house on it.
Till 2006-7, I used to do a private job. After the shift was over, he would come to the station on bicycle, then travel a distance of 6-7 hours and reach home. There was no leave at all. Was not able to attend any family function.
After that I got a government job. I became a teacher. However, even then the salary was only Rs 3 thousand. Due to shortage of money, she also used to work. Used to teach in a private school. Here the condition of the house improved in a few years. When the time came to live together peacefully, she left. My terrace is covered with pots. He was fond of gardening. Today everything is the same.
She never got angry, never got angry. The family members were never ready to make her their daughter-in-law, but gradually she became everyone’s favourite. While coming to school, both of us used to hug three-four times throughout the day. I used to kiss her forehead.
Bhupendra has fractures in his hand and waist. His hand is broken in three places. A rod has been inserted after surgery.
He used to complain of back pain. Treatment was going on in Indore. Earlier we used to go to Indore by motorcycle to see the doctor. After 2020, he bought a car for himself so that there is no problem in commuting. That car also went away with him.
In 2017, my father died in a hospital in Indore. Before Diwali, my wife’s mother also died in Indore. This time when we were passing through Indore and saw that hospital in front, the wife said – I have hated Indore and now I…
I am also fond of singing. We both started singing songs together a few months ago. She used to practice singing with me. There are speakers and mics in the room. Ever since she left, I haven’t even been able to hold the mike.
When I sit down to sing a song, I start crying. How to sing, what to sing?
Oh friend, why live without you?
(Bhupendra Rathore shared his emotions with Bhaskar reporter Neeraj Jha)
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