We
all so broken down, had to let Pupul to go along with them, dressed in such a
uniform, never expected in our nightmares. I was still up with Rita, and all
others were almost running to and fro for all the necessary actions to be taken
fast. It was almost late afternoon; we rushed by our car to the needful
destination, as soon as they reached the city from Patna. The roads were dark
black, freshly greased and silken smooth by the showers a couple of minutes back
that made our car commute smoothly. Every leaf of the trees looked ever fresh
and shining bright, with tiny water droplets resting on the leaf blades. The
sky even though with dark cloudy patches, looked fresh but damp. The soggy
smell around was oxygenating the nostrils and lured our lungs to take a deep
breath and relax. The cool silent breeze kissed my skin as I sped up the car to
reach the hospital as early as possible.
It
had been a month no doctor in Patna could diagnose what Pupul was suffering
from. The constant fever and its regular fluctuation from time to time had made
our four year old Pupul blue and pale. The ever naughty boy looked so torpid
and numb. Initially the fever could be controlled by the measured amount of
paracetamol dosage, but then it also stopped working fine. Numerous blood and
urine tests were done to check with the disease. But nothing and nobody could
trap the disease by any means. Finally, I suggested them to get their son over
here for proper diagnosis and treatment. The train was already late for an hour
to Kolkata and so we tried rushing down the bypass directly from the station to
cover up the time and its necessity.
I
know Rita and Praveen since more than a decade. We were in the same department
in the university. I had a major crush on Rita initially, but never took a
moment to sacrifice my blooming feelings, for the sake of my best friend. In
fact, sarcastic enough to still remember that I was one of the witnesses during
their marriage in the court. Later on, Praveen and Rita moved to Patna with his
new job as a manager of a mining company. But my seeds of love never brought in
complexities in our relationship. What is called true friendship, one can get
to learn seeing us. This marriage of Praveen and Rita was not accepted into
Rita’s family, as Praveen belongs from Patna. Though it sounds more of
superstitious and pessimistic, but in reality, it was a fact. After two years,
Rita gave birth to a premature baby of thirty weeks who almost looked like a
bundle of raw flesh in a bowl. With lots of care and nursing, the baby grew up
fine and became the most wonderful child, I have ever known. From a bouquet of
informal and formal names, Rita selected ‘Pupul’ to call her angel, as she
believed nothing could be better than given by me.
Rita
was not obviously able to hold back her tears and her face was equally swollen
with sobs as the senseless Pupul. Praveen seemed apparently strong, but I could
read his glittering eyes and the lips reading constant prayers within the heart
to save his only child. I was the only one among all to musk my suffocations
for Pupul to look fine. Though I knew my words might sound like alibis, but had
to console the couple with the idea that there was nothing to be scared any
more, as Pupul had been already brought to Kolkata and eminent doctors in such
a renowned hospital were being appointed to diagnose Pupul; and that very soon
he would be recovered and back to normal life. No parent can watch their little
heart to be under ventilation, and other medical instruments. And so were Rita
and Praveen. The constant beeping sound of the heart monitor tensed up the surroundings
and created successfully an atmosphere of serene stoicism and agitation at the
same time. Each beep seemed to take an account of the strength of each
inspiration and expiration, counted by us on our nerves staring at Pupul’s
condition. Immediately he was put in an intensive care unit and the nurses were
prompt enough to prick the needle and create channels on his thin veins for
saline water to run through. The pipes supplying oxygen, running into his
nostrils created fog inside the fibre-musk with his extensive breathing, and
his chest muscles constantly pumped out and in keeping in tune with his heartbeat.
The hospital authority made him wear an unfit fade green gown, like any other
indoor patient with them. They purposely allowed Rita to be with Pupul in the
same cabin. Rita was in the realms of disappointment and anguish as she could
not see her baby suffering so much, since so many days and that finally he
landed up somewhere where he was being hurt by piercing here and there,
sometimes with sharp pointed needles and sometimes with thicker pipes, not even
sparing his genitals.
Since
they reached Kolkata, nobody had anything except cups of tea from the nearby
stalls. The clock was running fast, its hands moving even faster but the time seemed
to stand still along with the situation and its perturbations. All were waiting
and looking at the doctor and his predictions to combat such unwanted and
disgusting phase of life. When and how it became nine thirty in the night, we
never knew. With the news of his admission to the hospital, many of Praveen’s
friends and relatives had gathered in the downstairs. Already a plenty of serum
tests were redone and checked to come to some conclusion by the doctor. The
attendant informed that some more tests would be carried out for further
investigations. I could see the tensions shadowing over the young parents’ face
with expressions in their eyes beyond words. I knew I was the only one to do
with the official stuffs and other formalities in the hospital on behalf of
them. By then I had come to know very well that relatives act more like
ornamentations with actually nothing to do, or no wishing to do, for the
emotional sake of a relationship. Friends and neighbours have the good ability
to spring successful relationships instead. Rita was forcefully given a tumbler
of Horlicks mixed with hot milk, as she rejected dinner or any food to eat. Her
eyes had swollen and looked sunken with her thin and fragile red optical veins
prominent, and she started crying every now and then being exasperated of the
situation. Every one of us was feeling so vague about the whole scenario with
no clue at all and could only do nothing except leaving ourselves with the
whims and wishes of our destiny.
Praveen
and I decided to stay in the waiting lounge in the night while Rita would stay
along with Pupul in his cabin. The drizzling weather though could easily
surpass the humidity of the past sultry season of summer, and bring back the sublime
beauty of the fresh and young rainy season for the citizens, for us it was only
moulding the mood acrimoniously arid. The opaque glass walls of the waiting
area were freshly bathed by the monsoon showers. The water droplets that had gathered
on the outer side of the glass walls could easily tempt any pedestrian by the
hospital. The seductive aqua marks on the glass wall slowly rolled down and
dripped to conjugate and copulate with another water drop and created a perfect
romantic atmosphere. The weather outside was cool enough, with hissing breeze
piercing the skin and the green shrubs showering the resting rainwater like the
bliss of the season. But unfortunate enough it was for the seasonal sensation
in that particular arena that the only witness of such teasing pleasure was
those relatives of the patients, waiting with their amorphous destiny and
silent eyes.
The ever chirping boy travelled silent and
almost unconscious during the long twelve hour train journey from Patna. All
day long his mother with all her prayers was waiting for her son to once look
at her and calling her ‘Ma’. The whole day he only breathed silently along with
the beeping of the monitor in the room. Rita also sitting still on the couch
beside, could not anymore hold her fatigued eyes and fell asleep. The silent
room seemed even silent, with the monitor tracking and doing its works
constantly without a single miss. By the midnight, the hospital seemed like any
ice-chamber with a few dim led lights lit all around. Sometimes one could get a
glance of nurses or new patients coming in for admission. The roads outside
were engulfed by the dark and cold. Rita suddenly woke up from a thin moaning sound
from around. As she opened her eyes wide to get the grip of the sound, she
realised it was no other than Pupul, groaning for water. No doubt it was the
piquant moment of Rita’s life to hear her numb child calling his mother for
water in the middle of the night.
“Yes
baby...I will give you water dear. Please wait... I will give you water...” Rita
croaked with rue alone.
Suddenly
a nurse came in from nowhere, and stopped Rita.
“He
is not supposed to have water, Ma’m. He is using oxygen mask. So it can give
him nausea. We have already given a substitute for that through saline-drips.”
“But
he needs water. See...How he is wailing for water! He must be so thirsty...Please
allow me only with few drops...”
“Ma’m
you are not understanding. Water is strictly not allowed when oxygen mask is in
use. It can even make the situation adamant. Please try to understand madam...”
“You
better try to understand. My son is crying for water. Either you allow me to
give him water or I will take away my patient from here. Do you understand
that?”Screamed Rita at her highest possible pitch, which travelled easily to
the waiting lounge on the ground floor, through the silent corridors and
staircases. Both Praveen and I looked at each other with anxiety. Immediately
the liftman ran came towards us and asked us to go upstairs to the cabin as
Rita for some reason had made the situation go out of control. We ran to the
third floor almost like two marathon champions and found Rita creating scenes,
sobbing and weeping and bawling too. Attendants, nurses and junior doctors from
other cabins had gathered already to handle the situation. Rita aggravated the
scenario with all her emotional and psychological pangs of consternation.
Praveen
had always been a successful husband to rein such quandaries. Rita at last
composed herself being empathic about the plight and its disadvantages. She had
been deficient of sleep for nights. I proposed to Praveen to let me stay over
there in the hospital for emergency while they could take some rest at my flat.
I handed over the car keys and the flat’s as well to Praveen and let them drive
to my house.
The
morning was fresh, the next day, and the warm sunbeams refracted through the
glass reception chamber of the hospital. I was tired too and could not remember
when I actually went for a nap. I turned and looked at my back and through the
crystal screen I found the sweepers to clean the logged water. The roads were
still swampy though, but with a gleaming weather around. The youthful flowers
in the reception vase looked ever virgin to welcome the patient-parties
possibly with some good news. The new staffs had reached to take over the older
ones. Everywhere was the glistening warmth of a new sunny bright day after a
constant pour of seven hours. The hospital again felt busy with the even busier
doctors and nurses. New patients were also coming in. The engulfing silence of
the last night was overcome by another new noisy start of the day. I felt good
for everything around and looked at my watch to note the time. It was 7:45 am.
“A sip of hot tea may make my day!”As I thought, I tried getting up from the
chair to walk down the cafeteria. Suddenly, a nurse-boy tapped my shoulder and
said “Sir, you are called at the reception. Please come with me.” I was little
perplexed but then carried out the request.
“Good
morning Sir. Are you a relative of Reetap Mishra?”
“Ummm....
Hmm. Why? Is everything fine?” I exclaimed.
The
lady confirmed, “Are you Mr. Praveen?”
“Ummm...No.
But I am his friend. Pupul... I mean Reetap is my nephew. You can tell me
anything regarding his health.”
She
sighed, “We regret, he is no more sir.”
“What!!!!??”
I bellowed in disbelief.
“We
are sorry, but he has expired.” She reconfirmed.
I
just did not know how to react. I did not know what else to ask. I did not know
what more to be clarified. I did not know how to face Praveen and Rita. I just
wanted to know if there was anything or anybody called the superpower, the Almighty
that bestows on this planet, any more.
“But
how did it suddenly happen?” I claimed for an answer.
“The
patient has just stopped responding to the monitor and has even stopped urinating.
Hence the doctor concluded his death. Please try arranging for the clearance of
the bill to start off for his crematorium at your earliest.”
The
number of breaths and heartbeats of Pupul’s life felt cheap and was
supplemented by a huge amount of the bill from the hospital. It’s easier for a
wise head to start a business selling the last desire of the losing fellows. I
tried sending a message to Praveen’s mobile phone; the typed text seemed
blurred as my eyes were filled with water and my trembling fingers walked
topsy-turvy on the mobile keypad.
Within
twenty minutes I found Praveen and Rita rushing into the hospital through the
glass door of the reception. I completed the last formalities on behalf of
Praveen with the hospital. The nurses had put Pupul on an iron stretcher bed
with no more saline drips or oxygen pipes or catheter running into his body. He
looked as if he was having a sound sleep, after prolonged sleepless nights. His
face looked as fresh and virgin like those flowers at the reception. A strange
slice of smiling arc could be noticed on his lips. A clean white linen sheet
covered his body from the chest, with the pair of his soft small toes peeping
out from beneath. I could not even imagine how to look at the faces of Praveen
and Rita. I felt so suffocated inside.
“Pupul...
Babu...” Suddenly I heard Rita talking in an absolute normal voice. I turned
around in surprise. She continued talking to the lifeless Pupul, “See I got so
many chocolates for you. Come on. Get up...and for how long you are going to
sleep? Huh? Won’t you go to school today?”
Praveen
cried aloud and screamed at Rita “Stop, Rita stop! Are you mad? He is no
more...Pupul is dead, Rita...” Tears rolled down his cheeks as Praveen tried to
explain the truth to Rita.
“What
nonsense are you talking Praveen? Are you out of your senses?”, and then again
turning to Pupul she clasped his palm and kissed on his forehead and said,”
Pupul you remember, how you craved for a bicycle? I have planned to get you one
on your birthday next month. Now come on, get up...now you are getting so late
for school Pupul...You never listen to me...See now I will be angry and then
will scold you too..Pupul... Pupul...”
I
saw Praveen crying like a child at Pupul’s cold feet. My nerves and muscles
seemed to fail to work anymore as they were all cramped with the suppressed
agony, suffocated pain and endless tears. Rita was talking like an insane to
her dead child. She lost the brain to accept that her son was dead forever. And
how could she, being a mother! The nurses helped us to take away Rita to the
nearby lounge to let her relax for some time.
Soon
the florists decorated the stretcher with white flowers and garlands. The
verdure of the fresh leaves flashed through the white petals and adored the
innocence of Pupul adding to his beauty. He looked freshly bathed and was
perfumed with a sandal fragrance. The glass coffin was initially not able to
fit in his three and a half feet body properly. It seemed he was scared to move
to the other end of the universe and was silently calling his mother to help
him and take him away and let him stay like before near her warm chest and
arms. My air-pipes under my chest skin felt heavy; Praveen was still lamenting.
Rita benumbed, was standing by the glass coffin, trying to make Pupul look
perfect; she brushed his hair with her fingers, and wiped his face with her dupatta.
She planted her last kiss on his forehead to let him set for his final journey.
Praveen
and Rita are now settled in Bangalore and are blessed with baby twin girls. I
could not make myself to visit their new home after the incident of Pupul, since
last two years. I keep in touch with them over regular phone calls and emails. I
have learnt Rita had to undergo a rehab treatment for a long six months after
the incident to overcome the stress. From the last email of Praveen, I have
come to know that soon they will be going abroad as he has been offered a good
sum in a new job. I feel good that they are settled mentally and physically
along with their life anew. That is what life is for: to move on and to roll
on. Time is such a big factor in life. Time can make us restless to let us
crave for its significance and again time is the only thing that can heal
everything and let it fall in its place as perfectly as a painting. May Praveen
and Rita still bear the inseparable pain of losing their son two years back,
safely hidden in their hearts; I still get my eyes filled with tears when I
cross the hospital arena for some reason. The adjacent roads to the hospital
stay still busy with overcrowded buses and other vehicles and innumerable
people, probably patients, finding their way to the building to cure their
diseases. I wonder, if Pupul has taken rebirth among any of them and living
happily thereafter. I get busy too, with my new life, my wife and my six months
old beloved son, Pupul.
*******
