It was a really long well lit corridor and on its end, there was this painting by some Indian artist vaguely depicting a manifestation of some Indian God. Just before the corridor started, there was this small and colourful play area for toddlers, with swings, slides, balls and toy of every kind that a small kid would fancy. On both the sides of the corridor to the end, there were numerous doors with name plates of one doctor or the other. This is what pretty much described the left wing of the ground floor of a renowned hospital in New Delhi.
The hospital looked more or less like a luxury hotel. However, the placement of the play area was ironical. Looking at it, I don’t think that it was the only thing that gave rise to the feeling of irony. There was a water dispenser standing next to the rows of the comfortable sofa sets just opposite to entrance of the play area. Not far away from the seating arrangements was a guy who was selling snoodles and hot coffee.
It was a hot summer night in the month of June. It has been drizzling every now and then since the morning. The LCD screens installed nearby flickered with the news that screamed – Hottest Day Of The Year. There were some visuals too, of the reporters going around and asking questions to common man at their best. In between the water cooler and potted palm tree, there was a light green coloured Sofa on which, he was sitting, with a magazine half open laid on his thighs. He didn’t seem to pay attention to the magazine and to the news on the LCD screen. There was no reason as to why that piece of news should bother him. He sat there looking into eternity, flipping the pages of a magazine every now and then. He was trying hard to read something but after every two minutes, he would lose track of everything and would start staring into eternity across the infinite length of that corridor.
All of a sudden, he got up from his place and started moving towards the huge hospital lobby which looked even more glamorous. He paused for a moment just before entering into the lobby, took a deep breath and magically made his trademark lopsided grin to appear out of nowhere. He then walked into the illusion that things will be fine if he just smiled, no matter how forceful that smile be. Once he was in the lobby, he started looking for a few familiar faces. Finally he could locate the group of people he was looking for. A lady was sitting in the centre with her eyes frozen to the ground; a couple of ladies surrounded her while all the men in the gathering stood close by. He started walking towards them and paused all of a sudden, took out his cell phone, pretending to do something and then continued to walk again. Only he knew that his smile isn’t enough to convince that everything is right.
“You have been gone too long”, asked one of the ladies. He took his time smiling back and answering, “Yes, a friend of mine called up”. “Oh! No wonder you took close to an hour”, the lady quipped. The boy didn’t bother to say anything. He smiled back and stood closer to the group of male members who were discussing the performance of Indian Cricket Team in the world cup. He smiled to himself and thought about the same lady’s remark on his long disappearance in a situation other than they were in. “Too long a call for a 20 year old”, she would have said and that made him look at that lady once more, with a grin of course. The lady who was seated in center, was his mother and the others were those few distant relatives who were there, if in case.
India failed to perform in the world cup, but there were things much bigger than that which were bothering them. Apparently, for once the cricket team should be given due credits that they provided enough material for the group to see through the grim silence which was taking over everyone’s heart every passing second. Someone was decent enough to get enough coffee for this particular group of people. When he was offered a coffee, he politely denied. On this, the mother broke her silence, looked at him and said, “You should have it. You hadn’t eaten since the morning”. Taking it to be a clue, the other relatives flocked him, pestering him to go home for a while, freshen up and eat something. Going home and eating was nowhere in his list for and he wanted to be there. But he finally had to give in. He announced, “Okay. I’ll go. Even Mom can come along and eat with me”. The relatives now flocked the hassled mother and pestered her to accompany the boy. The mother too, gave in.
The boy asked his mother, “You sure you don’t want to be here? They might let us have a look at Dad.” To which, a gentleman, apparently the oldest and seemingly wisest of them all said, “Its 9PM. There is no way that these people would bend the rules of the hospital for you”. “But Dad has been here in this hospital for over two months fighting for his life. I have a feeling that something is just not right tonight”, the boy countered. His father has been shifted to ICU a week back and was now kept alive with the help of a ventilator. The boy was persistent that he would be allowed to meet his Father beyond those visiting hours of the hospital. However, the mother and the son were sent home after being assured that they will be called if at all they are allowed to see the patient.
The mother and the son, have made that hospital their second home as they spent close to 20 hours a day within those premises which concealed within itself a million emotions and tears of grim suffering and endless joy. The hospital’s rules didn’t allow more than one attendant per patient to be in the building beyond visiting hours, but they both were allowed to stay. Probably this little ‘bending of the rule’ was to be blamed if the boy was persistent that he would be allowed to see his dad. Before the ailing father was shifted to the ICU, he was in a room which had a nice arrangement for the attendant to sleep. However, the boy always insisted on sleeping on the recliner in the common room for two reasons – the night view of the city from the seventh floor and secondly, he didn’t have to wear that smile anymore for the night and pretend that everything is going to be alright.
While on way to home, they both chose to remain silent. The only thing that disrupted the silence was discussion about a few things that doctors have said, followed by desperate attempts of manipulating the words in order to draw maximum optimism out of the things that doctors have a tough time communicating to people who flock to know of the patient’s well being. It was all said but no one ever stopped anyone from hoping for a miracle. The car wiper would occasionally make a sound every now and then, just like a heart beat makes its presence felt. The rhythm of the wiper reminded the boy of the rhythm of his father’s heart beat, which he so wanted to go on forever.
They reached home. It was still the same except for the melancholy that surrounded every nook and corner of the house and overshadowed its grandeur. For the first time, the boy could listen to the otherwise nonexistent noises that came from kitchen every day. He could hear the bowls being arranged on the tray, the spoons being placed, the gas lighter being ticked and most importantly, the water being poured into the jug. The credit for this goes to the silence that surrounded the place. The food was finally laid in front of them and with a certain amount of efforts they gulped down a few morsels battling the lump in their throats with the help of water.
The boy leaned back on his rocking chair and closed his eyes for the first time in the span of more than 24 hours. As soon as he closed his eyes, random thoughts and memories took over as If they have been conspiring for this very moment all the while. The memories were good mingled with reality for the moment, they were supposed to leave a bad after effect. His entire life flashed by in front of him. The little achievements that fetched him those proud words of his father, to those hidden report cards that invited the lecture he had been through for more than a million times. Except for the last three months, everything was accepted with a smile that appeared to be a real one.
He remembered that how he walked in to his new school holding his father’s hands, the parent teacher meetings, the birthday celebrations and a lot more. He was thinking about the years gone by and how at one instance, he ran up to his father and got the teacher dismissed from the school because she caned him for using shortcut while working out a mathematics problem. He smiled and then was lost again further deep into the memory lane. He thought of the same June, years back when he and his father drove miles on the old Bajaj scooter because he wanted to have Chicken Tikkas and even the rain couldn’t stop the father from fulfilling the boy’s wish. He smiled and decided that he won’t give up. He had read somewhere that positive thinking can lead to miracles. ‘The author can’t be lying’, he told himself.
He opened his eyes and decided to get up and sit in prayer for a while. As soon as he got up, the phone rang. The hospital authorities have allowed the two to see the patient, was the news. He felt relieved. He woke up his mother from her sleep and said, “Mom, let’s go. They have allowed us to see Dad. Hurry up!” He rushed to the car and insisted that he would drive. He didn’t want to delay it to the extent that hospital authorities would change their minds. There was someone from the group to receive them at the gate. They reached the hospital. And without any obstacle, which they generally encountered otherwise like security, entry passes, etc, they were led straight to the ICU where the other members were standing outside the door with their heads down”.
He wasn’t prepared for this sight. He was told that positive thinking works. He approached the others walking slowly with his heart beating faster every minute. At the end of the gallery he could see all of them discussing something among themselves. He paced up since he wanted to get there as soon as possible, or probably too late. The extreme silence of another long corridor that led to the ICU as the clock was showing half an hour past 1 in the morning, was making it worse for him. He arrived at the entrance of the ICU and looked at the people there in their eyes hoping for some good signs. The gentleman said, “Why don’t you go and see him on your own?” The boy looked at his mother. She was still dragging herself, walking very slowly, in order to delay any bad news that might have been waiting for her. She was far behind.
He rushed in to see his father and as he approached, he was looking for his father’s pulse on the big screen which was just mounted above the bed. He wanted to see the pulse before he sees his father, that wouldn’t have made a difference however. The pulse was not normal, but the beep of the machine suggested that it is still in the limits. He wanted to feel relieved but he still has to make his way to his father who was surrounded by machines of all kinds. The tubes going in and out of his father’s skin didn’t bother him anymore. ‘Those tubes have been there for a long time now’, he convinced himself. The doctor attending the patient made way for the patient’s kin to have a few word with the patient.
“Papa”, the boy said in a low voice as he approached his father. There was no movement. “Papa”, he said again, this time a little louder. He was standing on his father's bedside now. He bent down close to his father’s ears and gathering all his courage, said again, “Papa”. There was no response. He looked at the doctor and the doctor looked at the screen again, just to see if the pulse is normal. Reassuring the pulse rate again, Doctor signaled him to stop stressing the patient. He took his father’s hand in his, lost in the battle between the past and the future. His father opened his eyes and he wished that he wouldn’t have. The eyes were bulging out and were yellow way beyond than normal. The father didn't show much of a reaction and even the eyes looked that they have been frozen by a single glance of the death that awaits him. He knew that it is now a matter of few minutes of may be hours and everything will be over. He could have broken down that very moment, but he chose not to. He looked at those wrinkled hands and said once again, “Papa” followed by 5 minutes of silent when no one or nothing spoke. The machine just kept on beeping, a signal that he was still alive.
The doctor signaled for the boy’s mother to be sent in. The boy knew that this was the last thing his father has actually heard. While he was walking out and crossed his mother, he told her, “Don’t take long. He is sleeping”. He paused for a moment before getting out of the ICU and looked back at everything, except his father. He came out of the room. Was in tears and asked the lady standing next to him. “Tell me, how much time is left?” The lady hugged him and said, “He will be fine. Be positive”. The boy retorted, “Stop lying” and went on to a corner looking at the dark area that led to the service elevators.
Five minutes later he returned, with no trace that he had cried. He knew that his mother would be coming out any moment. He stood at the door waiting for his mother. As expected, his mother too couldn’t bear the sight and the reality. Being a woman, she couldn’t hold her tears and by the time she was out of the gate, she was crying uncontrollably. The boy came forward, hugged her mother like some another 20 years have been added to his age all of a sudden. He offered her water, wiped her tears and the first thing he said to her was, “He is alive, Maa. Didn’t you see that big machine that showed the pulse?”. The mother who was not fully convinced questioned, “The eyes?” The boy had already thought of an answer to this one because he knew his mother way too well. “Drugs Maa, drugs. He is alive. Let’s go out of here. Someone out of these people can stay here tonight”, said the boy, pointing towards his uncle, aunts and his cousin.
The mother refused to leave the hospital and she was insisting on staying there tonight. Finally after a lot of persuasion, the mother and the son were sent home again on the condition that they will be there at 7 AM in the morning. So, technically that left them with only 5 hours of separation because it was already 2 AM by the clock. Despite of all, the boy was still hopeful that his father will be better in the morning. More than the power of positive thinking, he had faith in his prayers and his God. His cousin, who was elder to him by some 12 years, led them to the car. Before the car could leave the hospital premises, the mother asked the son, “Shouldn’t we stay? We both know the reality”. The boy, while trying to look away, replied, “Don’t you have faith in your God? You have been so very religious all this while. I have prayed too and he will be fine tomorrow morning. He is still breathing”. Convinced now, the mother wiped the tears from her eyes.
They were home again. The boy said, “I am going to my room, I am having a severe headache”. Mother had no apparent reasons to stop him because crying in front of each other would have made them weaker anyways. The boy rushed to his bed, and covered his face with a pillow so as to muffle even the slightest of the sound that would suggest that he was crying. In between those attempts, the sight and the memories, somehow he fell asleep. The phone rang. He looked at the clock and it was half an hour to seven. He received the call while still trying to sound normal. It was his cousin on the other side who had called up to say, “You know, you have to be strong. Your father is no more now. You have to take his place so be strong”. These three sentences took a lot of time coming out of the mouth of the person who was speaking and the voice was mingled with constant stammers and unusual silence. They took even longer to be believed and to be allowed to seep into his mind.
Gathering what all was left of him. He asked, “Maa…?” To which, the cousin replied, “I have already told her. It was impossible for her to break this news to you. She is already on her way to the hospital”, and with this, the call ended. The boy got out of the bed and moved out of his room. Knocked on the door of the room adjacent to his, there was no answer. He opened the door and walked in to see that his younger brother was still sleeping peacefully and oblivious of how things have changed overnight which happened to be the longest night for him.
- Piyush Singh (22/07/10)
Special Mentions: Thank you 'My Cutest Cat' for the support you have been. And I am always indebted to Ms. Tanu Dogra for providing me with the much needed imagery for my words. Thanks again, both of you!
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