By Shormistha Mukherjee

I went from looking like jenny from the block, to chottu from the tea shop.

I love my new haircut. But if I slung a cloth over my shoulder and hung out at the chai stall, you’ll be asking me to get you tea.

So here’s the thing. For years and years I’ve had long hair. Sometimes shoulder length, sometimes longer. But I’ve never chopped it short. I’ve been very tempted to go short a couple of times, but just haven’t mustered the courage.

Which is strange. Why would you need courage for something that’ll grow back? It’s not even permanently gone.

And it took something like cancer to make me wonder why I wasn’t trusting myself enough.

Like even my food habits and me. Some time back, I was eating junk. Guzzling a coke after lunch, or ordering from KFC, or having two breakfasts instead of one, eating a big dinner late, just eating all the time. And eating the wrong stuff.

I’ve been reasonably fit all my life. And this was making me unhappy and morose. But I just kept doing it. Till about a month back, when I stopped and got my act together thanks to an awesome nutritionist. Again that happened in such a roundabout way. My friend P started going to her, because he wanted to fix his health, and that motivated me, and I landed up there.

And she was the best person for me, because without either of us knowing what was brewing, she put me on a diet that fights cancer. And keeps my body alkaline.

So something, somewhere, knew and helped me.

There have been so many coincidences in the last month. I’ve not read, pushed or actively tried to find any connections.

Everything has come to me. Like I spoke to T, who is a fantastic yoga teacher, to ask if yoga could help me. And she immediately said, it’s strange that you should call me, because one of my students just told me that she’s recovering from breast cancer, and she would be the perfect person to talk to you. Next thing, that student N calls me, guides me and is such an inspiration and support.

So why did I choose to call T, when I could have called other teachers who I love as dearly. No idea. And it’s not like I have taken a class with her in a year or more, or even called her.

Again, it’s like something inside me, chose her.

That’s probably the reason I can’t bring myself to see my cancer as evil. I can’t say I’ll stomp it and bastard and whatever else.

Because I don’t feel like that. My body tells me the cancer came in peace. To show me and teach me things that I must learn. And it’ll go away quietly and happily.

That’s why I say I am fighting the good fight. The universe, my body and my mind, they’re all working in lovely, mysterious ways. And they’ll bring this ship home.