Artist Priyanka Paul unsettles care work as they illustratively and poetically reckon with the reality of children caretaking for their chronically ill parents.
Caretaking shouldn’t have to be such an invisible role and it most definitely should not have to be a burden. In life, it is common that we will be met with the reality that the people we love might take ill, it is then our collective responsibility to come together as families, friends, communities to build systems and strategies of care, that make the gruelling work of caregiving to be one of sustained love and not one that is unequal and dictated by social hierarchies. As a child, I felt neglected and pushed into a corner when my whole life changed one day. I wonder what it would be like to live in a world where we cared more freely, where care was not simply the work of the caregiver, where health and healing went beyond hospitals and medical practitioners, what would it be to develop ‘care’ as a model that cares for everyone involved – caregiver included!
It’s long hours outside
Long corridors
Hospitals
White blurs
The colour white spinning
But it never turns into a rainbow
Rainbows are for people who have windows
And there’s no sunflowers or periwinkles to pluck
“Will she survive will she not”
My nails are chewed up
Cutting into the flesh of my fingers
“Will she survive will she not”
Your eyes move swiftly
Doctors. Is that a doctor? Are they walking
towards me?
Are her eyes closed? Will she wake up? Why won’t
she wake up?
Can she wake up?
There are too many hands patting my shoulder
I’ve never seen these people
They mean well
I don’t mean anything at all
What does that even mean
Sometimes you escape hospitals
And you go back to a place you previously called
‘home’
It’s supposed to be home
But it’s not
Home’s a lost narrative for kids with dying parents
This is just 4 walls with a hospital bed and the smell of phenyl and blood
There’s no warmth
The warmth in my mother’s hand was drained out through tubes attached to ventilators
My father cries at nights
And I cry too
And we’ll both not ask each other
What’s wrong
Partly because we know what’s wrong
Partly because we’ve tied our feelings into little
bundles and hung them outside my mother’s room
As to when she walks out again
We’ll gift ourselves the ability to feel
Till then we’ll put on stone faces
The neighbours and your old school teacher and the people from church will smile at you
Ask you how mom is
No one asks how are you
They say kids with dying parents are reckless
It’s just that death’s always been a room away, a drive away from the hospital, a clink on the rails of
your ICU bed
So you see kids with dying parents
We see our parents dying
Psychology says parents influence their children.
Children imitate their children.
You do what your parents do, don’t you.
Kids with dying parents are also dying.
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About the author
Priyanka Paul is a multidisciplinary artist from Mumbai, India. Their work revolves around themes of social justice, self exploration, and understanding marginalisation. Their work is known for its use of comedy and poetry. In their free time, you can find Priyanka drinking copious amounts of iced tea, starting fires on the internet and creating and hoarding zines! Find them on Instagram @artwhoring and shop their illustrations here.
