Let Her Go in Peace | A Doctor’s Quiet Wisdom at Life’s Edge
- Sriranga VN
- Jul 30, 2025
- 2 min read
🩺 “Let Her Go in Peace”
It was late afternoon when Dr. Chari walked into the ICU of Rajanthira District Hospital. The familiar scent of antiseptic and the soft hum of machines clung to the air, mingling with muffled cries and the rustle of white coats. A nurse nodded quietly and gestured toward the corner bed.
Soujanyamma lay there — frail, eyes closed, chest rising shallowly. A drain from her chest trickled pale fluid into a bottle beside the bed. The cancer had spread, and her lungs were drowning in their own silence. "Charii sir"...she said...
Her son stood nearby, eyes red and voice loud. “Doctor! We admitted her with hope. You said there’s a chance. Why is there no change? Why is she gasping like this?”
Other relatives chimed in — questions, accusations, desperation. Dr. Chari did not interrupt. He let the wave of pain speak. Then, he stepped closer.
He folded his hands gently. His voice was soft, not subdued — like a prayer.
“Soujanyamma has fought with all she had. We drained the fluid, gave oxygen, nutrition, all comfort we could. But the disease... has gone too far. Her body is letting go.”
The son turned away, tears brimming. “You’re saying nothing can be done?”
Chari nodded slowly. “We can do more tests. Refer her to the Capital if you still wish. But what she truly needs now... is rest. Peace. Not more pokes and procedures.”
He walked to her bedside, adjusted her blanket, and whispered a quiet Sanskrit shloka near her ear — a verse of peace, of light. Soujanyamma heard it, the attenders did not. And there was quiet peace...A thank you in her dull eyes...
“She deserves to go with dignity,” he said, turning to the family. “To breathe easy one last time, without pain. That is also healing — of another kind.”
There was no argument this time. Just silence. And a quiet surrender.... A quiet acceptance....
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