Dear Cancer: A letter

Dear Cancer,

Your species a product of evolution, taking steps down a new road armed with nothing but your own vision. Look how far you’ve come. The hundreds of thousands of mutated forms you disguise yourself in. You’re familiar to everyone, across all walks of life. Littered across headlines. Labels that can’t be lifted, outperforming many other destructors of life. Your name needn’t be uttered. Your story doesn’t deserve to be told. But you’re there. Always. Everywhere. In one way or another.

Who planted you within me? How have you spread and grown unwantedly on my soil so quickly? I never fed you, but you fed off me for so long without my knowing. You’re rooted. In me. Why? You somehow concluded that I was the perfect vessel, not only touching me but those I love dearly. No, touch is too soft. You pierced our hearts beyond repair, shattered the remnants of hope and threw me into a war I never thought existed. When will our war be over? Your existence feeds off humanity releasing this violent emanation as you feast, prey. Strangling every organ, constricting each limb, pervading me entirely. Why aren’t you happy with occupying 10% of me? Who told you it’s all or nothing? Why can’t you be reasoned with?

I was writing the story of my life, but you came and took the pen. You enslaved me, master. Me being the creation, creator. The biggest battle was understanding your nature. Now I know the anger you leave in your wake, the harm and uncertainty you throw individuals into. You told me not to underestimate your abilities, how significant the consequences were to be. You’d sewn your purpose to the deepest parts of my vessel. Your body, fluid yet so firm and anchored. I know, I’m just another number you managed to successfully invade.

Clocks, watches, all things time telling, in the house, on family members, littered in hospitals, carried around meaninglessly, glued to everyone but me. I now know of its existence. Time – this relative, irreversible process. The creator, the ager and destroyer of all things. Every tick closer to my terminal date. It’s a countdown that nobody really has any control over, but you. Time isn’t a monster, but ‘the’ monster that cannot be reasoned with.

You changed the world but more importantly people’s worlds. I walk the

streets, fighting a hidden battle people know nothing about. With you I felt vulnerable to deterioration, exposed to disease, infected with your filth, a burden to all. They’re trying to eradicate you, you know. You will end when I end. You like everything else have been designed to have flaws. I don’t need you to survive but you need me.

Thank you for giving me an expiry date. I was fearful of you. Fear, forget everything and run. I am still fearful of you. Fear, face everything and rise. I’ve embraced the pain you put me through and burnt it to fuel my shortened stay on earth. Does it have to be the way society perceives it, family and friends saddened by the thought of me leaving ‘maybe’ before them. We all worry about tomorrow as if it’s guaranteed. All that differs between me and them is that my expiry date has been confirmed. People, do something instead of killing time because time is killing you. Everyone dies but not everyone lives and thanks to your presence cancer, you brought life and meaningful purpose back into me for whatever time remains, a constant reminder to fulfil and serve it. It’s not the years in life that count. But the life in your years. Cancer, your education has been second to none, unparalleled. Lesson of gratitude. Having taken life for granted, I’ve concluded it’s the little things in life that matter most. Lesson of kindness. Be kind for people are fighting many hidden battles you know nothing about. Lesson of resilience. Continuously fighting for what you believe in and picking yourself up, again.

This isn’t my story but our story and you seem to edit it quite often. At times I thought that everything was going wrong, but I too late realised you came to me to set everything right. There’s good and evil in all walks of life including you. You’re a work of art. Not everyone will understand you, but the ones who do will never forget you. I wasn’t ever ashamed of the scars you gave me. It simply meant that I was stronger than whatever tried to hurt me. They’re more like internal tattoos but with better stories. I was given this life because I was strong enough to live it. I have survived 100% of my worst days. I’m doing just fine. Even in the hardest of times, the longest day is 24 hours. Everything passes, nothing stays. You included. There’s always someone who has it harder than me, fighting a tougher, more brutal battle than me. Every loss is nothing else but a reminder that nothing in this life is permanent. Life has many chapters for us. One bad chapter doesn’t mean it’s the end of the book.

How peacefully you grew within me, restoration of faith you brought back to me and giving me the courage to begin life again. Blooming so beautifully, you really got under my skin, physically holding my heart in your hands. They tried to rid you from me but that hurt me even more as my leaves fell. We’ll depart 23

this place together. Leave our mark together. You didn’t change me. Instead you revealed me. How have I been hidden for this long? You’ve made me take advantage of life before death. You inspected me, directed me, corrected me, protected me and perfected me. I wake with you, sleep with you, breath with you, walk with you, eat with you, see the beauty in our world with you, bleed with you, cry with you, suffer heartache and misery with you. I am you and you are me. Cancer, in case no one told you today, you’re beautiful, alive for a reason, presence on this earth makes a difference whether you see it or not. You do not discriminate, and I applaud you for that. If you can change the way you look at things, the things you look at change. Sometimes blessings are not in what we receive but taken away. Don’t look back. We’re not going that way.

Love, from your home

S. MASOOD