I went to the closet, picked up my prayer book and then sat on my cot with my legs crossed. For the next ten minutes, I prayed with utmost devotion and concentration. There was pin-drop silence in my room. In my prayer, I again begged God to save my Khushi and get her out of danger. With this, I bowed my head in front of the prayer book, wrapped it in its bag and kept it back in the closet with utmost care. Saying my prayer every morning had been my daily routine since college and, probably, today, I was subconsciously demanding the results of my prayers.
I did not feel like having breakfast. How could I, when my beloved was unconscious in the ICU? I skipped it and left for the airport.
Outside, the bright sun was wishing good morning to Bhubaneswar. And I was desperate to get some good news about Khushi. Every now and then, I was checking my cell for any missed call or SMS. Early on Sunday, the roads were not crowded. I hailed an auto-rickshaw and without bargaining, for the first time in my life, I got in with my airbag.
‘Where?’ asked the auto-rickshaw driver.
‘Airport.’
By 9.30, I was at the airport. I got my bag checked in. There were still some twenty minutes left before my flight. I could not resist calling up someone in Faridabad to get an update on Khushi’s condition. I dialed her number. Someone picked up the phone.
‘Hello,’ said a feminine voice.
‘Hi! Misha di.’ By now I could recognize the voices of everyone in Khushi’s family.
‘Hi, Ravin. How are you?’
‘I am Ok didi, how are you? And any update from the hospital?’
‘The doctors have not attended to her this morning. They’ll probably give an update by eleven.’
I was getting restless, not knowing Khushi’s condition.
Misha di then asked, ‘When will you be reaching here?’
‘Right now I’m at the airport and my flight is going to depart in a few minutes. So, probably by one in the afternoon … I think the security check has started. I’ll have to hang up. Will see you guys when I reach there.’
‘Yes, yes. You go on. Reach here safely and then we will talk. Bye.’
‘Bye,’ I said and went to the security check.
A little later, I was in the aircraft, on my seat, trying to cheer myself up with the fact that I got a window-seat. But, in no time, I was worried again. I was lost in a series of thoughts, when a beautiful hand offered me some candies.
‘May I offer you some candies, sir?’ the air hostess asked.
‘No thanks.’
Even her lovely face could not get me to say yes. Maybe because no one appeared as beautiful to me, any more, as my own Khushi. And at that very moment, a thought flashed through my brain: ‘Once you fall in love, things like external beauty, apparel and so on become unimportant.’
The thought surprised me. I wondered if this was what we call the magic of being in love.
Whatever it was, but at that time I was sure about one thing—that I did not like myself in this mood at all. I mean, just the day before, I was so happy to see my blazer, her engagement ring and her sari. Look at me now. ‘Hey Ravin! You have to get out of this mood. This is absolutely not you,’ I said to myself.
By now, the aircraft, the passengers and those air hostesses were all in the air. I looked outside the window, observing the white clouds and those birds we passed by, a few seconds back. I wondered how long it would have taken me to go to Faridabad for weekend dates with Khushi, if I were a bird. I had almost lost myself in those happy thoughts, when the fat lady sitting beside me asked me to shutter the window because of the scorching sun. I don’t know how the sunrays could have made her skin any darker. But anyway, I was not in the mood for an argument and I did what she wanted.
It was time for lunch now. I realized this when I saw the food trolley in the aisle. But I wasn’t feeling hungry. I was very sad, wondering how such a day had come. And, at the same moment, I knew that if I dwelt on these thoughts, the journey would be very hard for me. I made up my mind to have at least a sandwich and drive my mind away from those bad thoughts. ‘Think of something interesting or funny. Oh! How about planning a sequence of bhangra steps for the engagement night?’ I said to myself. Then had to add, ‘Which will now be postponed by a few months …’
By now, the food-trolley was beside me.
‘Excuse me, sir! What would you like to have for lunch?’ the air hostess asked.
‘You are excused, baby,’ I thought, forcing myself to change my mood. Aloud, I said, ‘Hmm … A sandwich with a Coke will do.’
‘You don’t want to have lunch?’ She was surprised.
‘This is my lunch for today.’
‘Ok. Veg or non-veg, sir?’ She smiled.
Wow! This time that smile appeared good to me.
‘You won’t be serving me both?’ I asked her as soon as she completed her question.
She looked at the food on her trolley, a little flustered, probably counting to see if she could spare two.
‘Hey, I was kidding. Give me a veg sandwich,’ I said, interrupting her.
She again smiled and served me the sandwich and Coke. I forced myself to come out of that gloomy mood.
‘Wow! That smile is pretty indeed,’ I told myself. The next moment I had this weird urge to check out her name tag. I don’t know why, but I felt that she was a Punjabi too. But before I could do that, she had gone to the row behind me. I tried to stand up a bit and turned back to look, but then I noticed that the fat lady beside me was staring at me, as if she had caught a guy in her neighborhood making passes at her daughter.
(‘You Men are dogs,’ Khushi always used to say to me. ‘And you are going to marry one of them, no?’ was my reply every time.) I sat back on my seat with a little disappointment and had my sandwich and coke.
I only realized I had fallen asleep when the announcement woke me up: ‘Ladies and gentlemen, we are about to land at Delhi airport in a short while.’
I became very anxious again, recalling the purpose for which I was traveling. A little later, I would be seeing Khushi in the ICU. I raised the window’s shutter to have a look at the view outside. It was drizzling.
All of a sudden, I felt a bit cold. Not due to the weather, but because of my nervousness and anxiety about her condition.
At 1.45, forty-five minutes late due to bad weather, the plane landed. In fifteen minutes, I managed to collect my air-bag and was outside the airport. At a distance, amid the crowd in front of me, I saw Deepu and Jiju waving to me. I waved back and moved towards them. Meanwhile, I switched on my mobile and saw some missed calls from Deepu.
‘How are you?’ Deepu asked, shaking my hand.
‘I am fine. How are you and any update on Khushi’s present condition?’ I asked, with my fingers crossed.
He then gave me an update, with some medical terms that were new to me. But, somehow, they did not make me feel good. I then asked him if the overall situation was better than yesterday.
‘Hmm …’ Deepu was trying to frame his next sentence. I understood the situation.
I then acknowledged Jiju’s presence. This was the first time I was seeing him.
‘This is our elder Jiju,’ Deepu introduced me.
‘Sat Sri Akal,’ I said and shook his hand.
‘I believe the flight got late,’ he said.
‘Yes, because of this weather … they wanted us to enjoy the scenic beauty of Delhi from up there,’ I pointed towards the sky with a smile, trying to make everyone a little relaxed.
We got into a cab. Delhi was quite chilly and I wanted to feel the cold so I took off my jacket. It took us more than an hour to reach the hospital in Faridabad. The cab driver left us at the entrance and drove to the parking lot.
We went into the hospital and took the elevator to the second floor. As I was getting closer to her, my fear was increasing and I started shaking a bit. I looked at the different faces in the elevator and their expressions which told their happy and sad stories. On the second floor, the el
evator door opened.
Stepping out, I saw Pushkar coming towards me. I hugged him. Before he could ask anything about my journey and me, I asked him about her condition.
‘The doctors have updated me about her condition a few minutes back,’ Pushkar said, looking at all of us.
‘What kind of update. Tell me?’ I asked.
‘She is still unconscious but her condition is a little better since morning, though she is not yet completely out of danger. They are planning to operate on her fractured jaw and thighs in a day or two. Apart from that there are some blood clots in some section of her brain, though they’re not that critical and are likely to heal through medication.’
That ‘little better’ made us all feel a little better. Still, we were worried.
Though we knew that Pushkar has told us everything the doctors had told him, we kept asking him more questions, hoping that at least something would be positive.
Meanwhile, there was an announcement on that floor for all of us who were without ICU passes to go to the ground floor as the meeting time was over. Every evening, between 5.30 and 6, one or two people from the patients’ families were allowed to visit. I looked back to see where this announcement came from.
There I saw a door with the letters ‘I C U’ engraved on it. Intensive Care Unit. The meaning of the acronym made me shiver. A raw fear passed through me. This was the first time in my life I was standing in front of an ICU door, thinking about the person on the other side and what she meant to me and my life.
‘God, please,’ I said, staring at those bold letters.
I tried to look in from the little glass window embedded in that door.
‘The path on the right side leads to her bed. Bed number 3,’ a person standing behind me said.
I looked back.
‘This is Susant,’ Deepu said and introduced us.
‘Oh yes, Khushi used to talk about you.’
Khushi and Susant were in the same college and he used to treat her like his own sister.
Amid our introductions, there was a second announcement bidding us to vacate the ICU floor. It was decided that Susant would stay back in the hospital that evening and we all would go home. At night, one of us would come back to replace Susant.
At 6.15 p.m., we reached home. The door was open and I was the first person to enter, carrying my airbag on my shoulder. While entering the drawing room I saw Khushi’s mum. She seemed to be very worried—a mother whose child was fighting the most crucial battle of her life. Keeping my bag on the ground, I went to her to touch her feet and she hugged me like her own son.
I whispered in her ears, ‘Everything will be fine, absolutely fine.’
‘Yes. Now that you have come, she will be fine,’ she said patting my back with affection.
Meanwhile, I saw Misha di and Ami di. I met them, answering their questions about my hassle-free journey. We sat on the sofas and chairs in the drawing room. A little later, her dad came in from the other room. I got up to touch his feet and he, too, inquired if my journey had been fine.
We then sat discussing whatever had happened during the last two days. He was describing the probable conditions in which the accident had taken place. Amid our discussions, there were moments of long silences and deep breaths which we all were trying to break with our positive words.
I then saw Neeru coming out of the kitchen with some water and tea on a tray. ‘Look at her face and the grief which has replaced her sweet smile,’ I thought to myself. She came and placed the cups on the table in front of us. She was about to leave without talking to me, when I said, ‘Hi, Neeru.’
‘Hello. How are you?’
‘I am fine. And how about you?’
‘I am fine too,’ she said, picking up the used glasses and silently returning to the kitchen.
‘She’s terribly sad,’ Mumma said to me.
‘I can understand.’
We continued talking for a little while, after which everyone got busy with their respective tasks. I then saw little Daan running out of the other room with his toys. He recognized me immediately and, coming to me, he asked, ‘You’ve come again?’
‘Yes. I have come to see you, dear,’ I answered, taking him in my arms.
‘What have you got for me?’ I was expecting this question.
‘Well, I have chocolates for you sweetheart! But you will get them if you give me ten kisses,’ I said, gently pressing his sweet cheeks.
He did not say anything, but started kissing me and counting, after which I handed him his chocolates. He was so happy that he rushed to his mother to show her.
‘Never forget to get chocolates for Daan,’ was Khushi’s sweet command for me. She kept reminding me of such sweet and caring tasks which had so much importance in her life.
We had our dinner at 9 that night, after which we were discussing who would be the two persons going to stay in the hospital for the night. Every male member in the family was willing to be there and I counted myself part of this family too.
‘You might be tired after your journey. So better you rest here at home,’ Dad said to me.
‘No, I’m fine. My journey was hardly three hours …’
I badly wanted to go to the hospital. I wanted to be as close as possible to her. But then, a little later, Dad finally decided that Deepu and Jiju would go to the hospital and I should remain at home that night. Pushkar had to go to his office to complete some work.
I was disappointed. I badly wanted to see her. But now, I had to spend another sleepless night without seeing her.
At 11.30 I was in bed, in Khushi’s room. Alone, I was looking here and there at the things in her room and trying to recollect what she used to tell me about them during our conversations. The computer on my right, her closet on the left and the storeroom, attached to this room, full of books. The disappointment of not being able to make it to the hospital that night was reduced a little by the thought that I was going to spend that night in her room, on the bed where she used to sleep.
With all these thoughts in mind, I don’t remember when I fell asleep. I must have slept for a few hours. The next time I woke up, there was a little noise coming out of the attached bathroom. The lights in the room had been switched off and there was a blanket covering me from shoulder to toe. I checked my cell to see the time. It was 5 a.m. Somebody then switched on the light in the bathroom. I tried to figure out what that sound was. Soon, I realized that it was the tap water falling in the empty, giant tub in the bathroom.
‘Ah! She used to tell me this,’ I thought with a little excitement. Khushi used to tell me about this irritating thing in most of our ‘good morning’ calls.
Completely awake now, I smiled, remembering her narration. How well she had described this moment, which was so painful for a person who wanted to sleep. And just like she had told me, her mother came out of the bathroom and turned the green night lamp on before leaving the room. I felt as if I had won some championship for knowing, in advance, what would happen. How well I knew my Khushi, I thought. We were made for each other …
I covered my face with the blanket, trying to escape that greenish light and the sound of water falling in the tub.
‘Jesus! How does she bear this every morning?’ I wondered and went back to sleep.
The next morning, I woke up around eight and saw Mumma in the other room, trying to wake her daughters up every ten minutes.
I went up to her and said, ‘Good morning, Mumma.’
‘Good morning, beta ji,’ she replied, ‘Look at them, they are so lazy.’ She pointed at them, with a little frustration and a smile at the same time.
I looked at where she was pointing and saw Ami di and Misha di fighting for the common blanket in their sleep. I felt pity for the poor blanket which was being pulled here and there so often. The heads and feet, coming out of the blanket at odd angles, posed questions about their sleeping posture which were hard to answer, at least for me. Amid this fight for the blanket, Neeru was ver
y calm in her sleep. Nothing was bothering her, not even her mother’s wake-up calls. Watching them with a smile, I was about to go to the bathroom when I saw a little hand coming out of Neeru’s long hair.
‘Hey! Who’s that?’ I said in a sweet voice, trying to uncover little Daan who was sandwiched in between his maasis. He looked so very sweet in his sleep that I could not resist giving him a good morning kiss. The four of them sleeping on that bed appeared so good to me. Looking at them, I realized how much they loved each other and how close-knit this family was.
‘Touchwood,’ I said in my heart.
I was amazed at the morning in this house being so good. And when Khushi would be back here, it will be simply awesome. I wished I could soon see all the siblings in this house, sleeping in their funny way.
By 9.20 I was ready and through with my morning prayers. While coming out of my room I saw Neeru and Ami di in the kitchen. I wanted to crack a little joke then, recalling the morning’s sight. But I checked myself, maybe because of the thoughts of Khushi’s condition running in everyone’s mind and mine, or the silence that pervaded the home. And if not that either, then because of Dad’s serious presence at the dining table.
‘We are getting late for the hospital. Why is the breakfast not ready yet?’ Dad asked the females of the house, looking at the kitchen door.
We had to reach the hospital and send Jiju and Deepu, who had been there all night, back home.
No one but Mumma dared to answer the question. ‘It’s almost done,’ she said.
And in a short while, breakfast was served. Dad called me to join him and, of course, I did accordingly. We took nearly twenty minutes to have our breakfast and at ten, we left for the hospital. On our way, suddenly, I had the same feeling that I had the day before when, for the first time, I was entering the ICU, wishing to see her.
Soon, we were in the hospital. On the ICU floor, I saw Deepu half-asleep in a corner chair in the hall. Dad and I went straight to him.