Koirala Manisha - Healed : how cancer gave me a new life

Uncertainty is lifes way of saying that there are only a few things you can control.

Anonymous

It was a cold winter morning at the Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center in New York.

I remember how the frost settled on the windowpanes, blocking my view of what I imagined must be a winter wonderland. Snowflakes fell gently on the barren trees, covering them protectively like a soft eiderdown, and lulled them to sleep until they were ready to bloom again. Christmas was just around the corner.

I imagined children laughing and running in the squishy undergrowth, families decorating their Christmas trees with fairy lights, lovers snuggling up to each other with renewed promises. It was the season of love and newness.

The stark contrast of my situation hit me like a blow. I was alone in my room at the hospital, feeling empty and broken. From the high life of a Bollywood star, I had suddenly been reduced to a patient battling for life.

Death was staring me in the face. Was I going to be just another statistic?

I dont want to die, I sobbed out to the pristine white ceiling. But it just stared back at me.

Yet again my heart became a fierce battleground for life and death. Optimism and despair. The endless tug-of-war kept playing out in my mind.

You, Manisha, are going to live through this, Hope reassured me.

But you are BRCA-1 positive and have stage-III ovarian cancer, Death hissed back.

There is a 44 per cent survival rate in such cases, Hope soothed me.

There is a 56 per cent chance of you dying, Death jeered back.

I shut my eyes to let the voices fade away. It was comforting to sink into nothingness.

Whenever I needed comfort, my heart would fly to the visually stunning images of my country, Nepal. I found myself wanting to soak in the majesty of the snow-covered peaks of the Himalayas. I remembered the moments of perfect bliss on watching the orange-and-pink glow of the fading sun splashing them with colour, before they were transformed into torches of fire. And then the sadness of the fading embers.

I found myself ambling into Kathmandus quaint lanes, my nose assailed by the strong concoction of pungent, musty, fetid and cloyingly sweet smells of hashish, fish, vegetables and spices. The exotic smell of jimbu, the high-altitude herb that dominates the famous Asan market, teased my senses. I elbowed my way through the narrow streets lined with palaces, temples, shrines, stupas and pagodasstructures that stand testimony to Nepals rich heritage of art, culture and its ancient history.

My eyes felt dazzled by the riot of reds, oranges, pale-goldens and deep-browns. The fragrance of the magnolia flower teased my senses. I felt wrapped in the memory of a favourite childhood
smellthat of lavender and honey. My eyes swept through Nepals endless lush greenery that I enjoyed during my Shivpuri and other treks on the outskirts of Kathmandu Valley. Despite the ugliness of modern construction, Nepal still remained a veritable Mothers Store for mesoothing, relaxing and pure.

I have always felt that if you cut me up, you will find in my veins the roar of the mighty Bagmati of Nepal and the majestic Ganges of Indiafor my life has played out in these two beautiful countries. Though born into the politically prominent Koirala family, several of whose members have gone on to rule the nation, I made India my land of choice. I lived the stuff of dreams in magical Mumbai, acting in eighty-plus films, emerging as a top Bollywood heroine of my times and winning many coveted awards over the years.