Truly Madly Deeply (30 page)

He was black with white hair, showing away the years of experience he possessed in this field. On seeing him more intently, Sahil had a fleeting image of some Indian God with a snake wound around his neck but he could not readily recollect the name of the
God. His mother was a Hindu but his father was an atheist and apart from the occasional respect towards the pantheon of Gods in their house, his mother was not much of a religious person
either, so his pietistic knowledge was not much better than speaking Latin backwards.

“Easy folks, he's lost some blood but he'll be fine. There's some swelling near the scapula and few injuries on the calf and the forehead. He's lucky, no major damage was done. He should be thankful to the sweet lady who brought him here,” the doctor said, holding Sahil's shoulder to keep him steady.

“Which lady?” Sahil questioned.

“Oh, there was this sweet girl who brought him here, along with her father,” the doctor said.

“Must be some helpful Samaritan! Nice to see that people still feel helpful towards strangers,” Sahil said.

“How are you related to him?” the doctor enquired looking at Sahil's mother.

“My son ...”

“We're family friends,” Sahil broke in before his mother
could answer.

“That's great! We had called up his school to know about him. The pretty lady had informed us that he was from Delaware High...” the doctor said.

“Oh, so she must be someone from the school,” Sahil mouthed.

“...the school folks called up his home in India and informed his parents,” the doctor said.

“That's good, doctor,” Sahil's mother nodded.

Sahil made a face. He was not pretty sure of that route.

***

Rahul opened his eyes slowly towards the end of the day, after remaining unconscious for almost eighteen hours. The nurse in the room saw him fluttering his eyelids and immediately rushed out to call the doctor. A girl sitting outside sensed something and immediately peeked in the accident ward. Yup, he was awake, she could see that. She went in. Rahul widened his eyes trying to remember how he landed up here. Something heavy pulled at his skull from both sides and he groaned. He wiggled his fingers, flexing his wrists and feeling his legs. They hurt, the moment he realised they were still stuck to his injured body. He groaned again, adjusting his eyes to the bright light.

“Hey, how are you feeling now?” It was Colins' daughter, the same girl with the cropped blond hair, whom he had saved from the doped rascals.

Rahul merely nodded that he was fine.

“There was a loud screeching sound and I rushed out. I was scared on seeing that the van had bumped into you,” she admitted.

Rahul looked at her without saying anything, then looked away to observe his surroundings. The white coloured walls actually made the room feel more spacious than it was and the transparent lights in the two corners provided ample illumination for him to look around. He was in a big room that housed many beds – like the one he was resting on – in one straight line opposite the door, each one separated by a green curtain. He was aware of a slight buzzing sound. Was it from the fan or was it just in his ears, he could not make out.

“You all right, boy?” the doctor asked the first thing as he came in.

“I thought that is for you to check,” Rahul replied.

“Haha! Yes, yes, sure. You do seem better, especially if you can make statements like that,” the doctor replied, placing the stethoscope on his chest and asking the nurse to hand him the sphygmomanometer.

“So what happened to me?” Rahul asked the doctor while he was noting his blood pressure.

“What happened? God, I thought you would realise when a big, nasty van knocks you down, almost crushing you under its wheels,” the doctor said surprised.

“What's the damage done?” Rahul asked smoothly.

“Just some stitches to your forehead, no major injuries. You will live. You lost some blood and the blood bank was short on your blood group. O positive is a tough customer, donates to all but accepts from few, but luckily this young lady over here had the same blood group as you, so we had no problem transfusing,” the doctor pointed towards Colins' daughter.

Rahul looked at her, dressed in a navy blue frock she looked back at him. At one time in life, he had even lost the will to live and he would have gladly welcomed this accident then; but today, he did not believe in death as a relief from his woes. The pain was no problem, he would bear it, and wasn't he accustomed to bigger pains by now?

“Thanks,” Rahul said.

“Oh, no. Not at all! My pleasure I could help. I had to, after what you did for me,” the girl maintained.

Rahul attempted to touch his forehead with his right hand but then he sensed that his hand was connected to a half-empty blood bottle and it would not be such a good idea to move it, so he checked his head with his free hand. He felt a bit feverish and shivered.

“Ah, don't take too much strain. Nurse Anne, please do check on him at intervals. We informed your school and they in turn, informed your place. So don't worry, someone would be here pretty soon,” the doctor assured him by placing a comforting palm on his free hand.

“Oh, you shouldn't have informed my parents,” Rahul said, attempting to hoist himself up.

The doctor pushed him back gently.

“We didn't, the school did and moreover you shouldn't worry much. It's not like they will scold you much or something, huh?” the doctor said in a friendly manner.

“Can I have a phone? I have got to make an urgent call,”
Rahul demanded.

“You are not in a position to make calls yet, so you better take rest. Trust me on that,” the doctor tried to pacify him.

“I need one, now!” Rahul almost shouted.

“Well, wait for some time; we'll monitor your progress and
then maybe…”

“NOW!”

The doctor rushed out asking the nurse to follow him. He was going to get some morphine to calm him down.

“Don't get too stressed up. Here, take my phone if you want to make calls to your family,” Colins' daughter came upto him, offering him her cell phone.

Rahul was thinking of declining but he knew this would be his
best bet.

“It's on international tariff,” he informed in a gruff voice.

“Ya, I could pretty much guess that much. Your family's in India, isn't it?” she nodded, her hand still extended.

He took it then and quickly dialled his father's number.

“Namaste Papa, it's me!” Rahul greeted him in a joyous voice with his facial muscles tensed. It clearly took some effort.

“Rahul beta, how are you? We heard about your accident.
We told you to be careful on roads and not venture out alone. Don't you worry; I'm coming by tonight's flight. Will reach tomorrow around…” his father went on in a worried voice. He could hear his mother's frantic attempts to snatch the phone from his
father's hand.

“Papa… relax, I'm all right. It's nothing serious, really. I just got a few scratches and a couple of bruises,” Rahul assured his father.

“But your school authorities told me…” his father began.

“Oh, someone misinformed them and there has been some obvious miscommunication. Trust me, I'm perfectly fine, don't I sound so?” Rahul asked, further emulating what he thought to be a healthy enough voice.

“Yeah, you do… but still I am coming!” his father insisted.

“Papa, cancel the ticket. There would be no one to watch over your work in office. It's ok, the doctor has dressed up the little injuries and now I'm raring to go,” Rahul half-lied, clutching his hips and contorting his face as a spasm of pain shot through.

“No, no... you have to go… otherwise let me go on your ticket,” he heard his mother shout.

He sensed his father's effort to keep talking while holding the instrument to his ear with one hand and his mother with
the other.

“Papa, I'm telling you… ok? Cancel the ticket and don't worry, I'll call you soon. I can't talk more, it's not my phone, so don't call back on this number,” Rahul said.

“Use your phone then. Why don't you?” his father asked.

“I don't need one, papa. Tell Ma, not to worry. I will be fine.
I will call you soon. Take care,” Rahul disconnected the call
before his father could protest and handed back the phone to Colins' daughter.

“You shouldn't have told your parents not to come,” she suggested.

Rahul ignored her statement.

“Thanks!” he said instead, with his lips curving into a little smile.

“Oh, you thanked me twice,” she said diffidently.

Rahul did not look away. He stared at her with a little confusion.

“I mean, as per what they say in school there's no chance of you talking nicely to people, and absolutely no chance of you
thanking anyone, and here you thanked me twice so that makes me feel kind of really special, you know?” The girl said meeting his eyes excitedly.

Rahul gave her a nervous smile.

“Oh, you smile as well...” she noted.

“What do you think I am? A zombie?” Rahul asked mildly irritated at the way he was being observed.

“Perhaps,” she nodded. “Oops!” she regretted immediately.

“What's your name?” Rahul asked her abruptly, before she could talk about more uncomfortable things.

“Grazil,” she answered promptly.

He wanted to say that she had a nice name but he merely nodded in return.

“I'm sorry for that day, you know, asking you all that. It might have pissed you off. When I saw the collision and heard the noise, I ran towards the source and when I saw it was you … I was shocked … I saw dad near the driveway and shouted out to him. Earlier on, to be honest, he was uninterested in helping but once I told him that you're the same guy who saved me that evening, he promptly took the car out of the garage and we brought you here,” she explained the proceedings of the unfortunate evening.

“Well, thanks!” Rahul said again, acknowledging her help.

“I thought my words might have hurt you and maybe…” Grazil trailed off.

“No, they didn't. I'm used to being the weird guy around by now,” Rahul said.

Grazil was about to say something when the Doctor rushed in with the nurse following him.

“You ok now?” he asked as soon as he spotted Rahul lying calmly on the bed, just as he had asked him to do so ten minutes back.

“Yeah, I guess so. Can I leave?” Rahul asked.

“Soon, my boy! But now it's time for your dosage. So close your eyes for now. You'll be out of bed in a jiffy,” the doctor assured and held his free hand softly to plunge the needle in his skin before Rahul could repeat he wanted to leave.

“You can go now young lady. The visiting hours are about to end. Perhaps, we will discharge him in a day or two,” the doctor said, eyeing Grazil, who looked at Rahul and smiled again.

“Take care!” she whispered.

“You look really great when you smile, you should do that more often!” he heard Grazil say but her voice sounded very far. He faintly recollected at having heard those lines somewhere before but from whose mouth, he wondered.

The last thing Rahul remembered seeing was Grazil's smile as she waved him goodbye standing near the door. He wanted to wave back but something was pulling on his senses, dragging him down into the depths of his mind and as he closed his eyes, he saw another smile swim in front of his eyes.

“The last stroke of midnight dies,

All day in the one chair

From dream to dream and rhyme to rhyme I have

Ranged

In rambling talk with an image of air:

Vague memories, nothing but memories.”

-William Butler Yeats.

With his school life over, Rahul tried to think of better ways to employ his time. After the SSC results, the task for the student is to find a good junior college based on his marks and his choice of stream; but unfortunately, the college admissions for that particular academic year were delayed as there were a lot of students still to be admitted and things in the Indian education system moved at their own pace, the early announcements of the state board results were the only exception.

His father wanted him to join an advanced computer course in an academy but two days after joining the course, Rahul ditched it, citing health reasons. In reality, he just could not focus on things around him. The time dragged on mercilessly,
prolonging his suffering. For hours, he would do nothing but lie on his back, on the bed and close his eyes, reliving the good times. He tried to fight the pull towards Seema by playing his guitar, listening to rock music and reading books. But what was he? A mere human, stuck between the rungs of blended adolescence and nascent adulthood. What power did he command over the mysterious forces of love? Which sword could shatter the impenetrable armour of desire?