Thursday, May 19, 2016

Love you, Red Cross and Red Crossers!

I started writing this poem a few months back. I wasn't sure why was I thinking about my death. After a lot of reflection, I asked my husband, a fellow Red Crosser, the same question. He replied, "Maybe because you're thinking of transitioning from the Red Cross, an organisation that you love and worked for most of your professional life". I had no clue that the thought of leaving the Red Cross could have such a powerful impact on me.

Since I started with the Red Cross, I worked in many different positions and several different countries. I began as a nobody, I leave as an internationally known name and with a knowledge that it is a long way before I arrive. Whatever I am as a professional, I owe it to the Red Cross. Needless to say, I will continue to volunteer with Red Crossers whenever I can catch some free time from my new  job, which seems to be awesome too!

This post might be too cheesy for some and it is okay! I didn't plan for it but I couldn't resist it either. Separation from what you love is never easy and it is alright to process and share your feelings of sadness into something meaningful!

When I die,
drape me in a saree 
with a Red Cross pin
to honour my passion and mother country.

Teaching a fellow Indian woman about the importance of sharing your feelings in Orissa, India (2003)

When I die,
don't pluck the flowers
to decorate my grave,
they don't need to die with me.

When I die,
don't feel sad,
smile for me,
and know she's free!

When I die,
make someone else feel special,
take care of her,
as if she was me!

When I die,
don't miss me,
let my memories
inspire you to break free!

When I die,
know I am around
looking at you
with pride and glee.

When I die,
continue to improve
the service to needy,
Now it is your responsibility.

When I die,
know I will live eternally,
and we will meet again,
this separation is temporary!


I am not OK

I am writing this on behalf of thousands of people, particularly the humanitarian workers around the world, who are not perfectly ok. Many o...