Success in love is… Part 16

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5  Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15

We reached the General hospital in a few minutes and the panic we had shifted to the paramedics who handled it with ease. The doctors asked us to inform the local police station before entering the operation theatre. They were not impolite as the movies showed but were just following rules at the same time doing their duty. When my bro was enquiring the receptionist for phone numbers to call the cops, a constable appeared from nowhere and headed straight to us. The policeman took our witness about the nature of the accident and made a report.

He made a few calls and found his address from the motorcycle registration number. But this wasn’t helping the case as the address turned out to be an old one where no one knew this guy. Then he called the last dialed numbers from his mobile which were reaching random persons who knew him only by that call. I suddenly felt the importance of Emergency contact numbers and the uniform code for identifying them. I vaguely remembered a forward mail which I partially read and moved to my personal folders which had something like storing our emergency contact number as ICE (in case of emergency). I quickly opened my cellular and entered my Dad’s number as ICE almost involuntarily and had a sheepish look after doing it.

Then the policeman handed the phone to my cousin and asked to him find any contacts which my kin did within a few tries. He spoke in a very mature tone and informed about the accident and asked them to come as soon as possible. He also gave a small description of the patient’s condition and assured them, he will be alright before he disconnected the call. I was witnessing a freak college guy transform into a matured man when the situation arises. After all, the younger generation has grown a lot to handle any kind of situations, as they witness more worst-case-scenarios in their everyday life.  Most importantly they have understood that the older generation’s emotional level is of very low threshold than theirs and act accordingly.

The doctors informed that the patient is of O positive group and they need someone to donate as the blood bank didn’t have stock. There was an instant surge of anger over the ill-maintained nature of the government blood banks but my cousin stepped forward and eased the situation. After they left, a feeble pain from my knees made me realize that we were standing from when we arrived here. I turned to see a room full of vacant chairs which I didn’t notice all this time and sat on one. My bro was busy talking over the mobile.

I stretched my legs and closed my eyes which as always showed her. The eye hospital visit we had together looked very ancient and I wasn’t able to recollect all that happened there. I remembered the receptionists smile and the fight we had over the ogling topic. But something else that I had forgotten came into thoughts.

We had taken our evening snack in the hospital after selecting her contact lens. We were tired fighting about the receptionist and walked towards the gate through the emergency block. That was the first time both of us had saw a patient being taken inside the emergency room. The stretcher filled with blood from the facial injury had left us in shock and she reached to my chest which was drenched with tears in no time. I hugged her to ease the shock and we walked towards the reception where she sat down without getting hold of the surroundings. I put my left arm around her, and held her trembling hands in my right. I tried to assure her that the patient will be alright. She rested her head on my left shoulder and reached my collar with her left hand, filling my shoulder with the silent tears. I didn’t utter a word for a few minutes after which the receptionist came near and informed us that the person is out of danger. She stood up, hugged and thanked her as we left. She was holding my hand very firm to avoid it from the shivers and we took an auto back to hostel.

Loud cries from the entrance brought me back to the hospital. The patient’s family had come and my brother started assuring the relatives. Two kids came near me and sat next to my chair. The little girl was unable to get on the chair whom her brother helped to climb. She turned to me, smiled after the achievement and made me take the hand from my Chin.

“Dad always says we should not be in this position no matter how big the problem is.”

I turned to see a kid who had come to see her Dad, met with an accident, advising me to be cheerful in life. I removed the hand and smiled at her. Her bro got up and came to me, kept his hands on my lap and asked, “Did you bring my Dad here?”

I looked up to show him my brother or my cousin and tell that it was them but no one was there, so I nodded in affirmation.

“Thank you very much. Dad always works till late night and come to say us Good night before we go to sleep. Today he didn’t come till 12, so we thought we will fight with him tomorrow.”

I hugged him and tears started rolling from my eyes. These tender words made me realize “Every man here, good or bad lives not just for himself. We are a society of highly chaotic network where even small losses in remote places make a great impact in us.” I started talking with them and getting to know the beauty of their world.

The emergency room became silent when my cousin came out holding his right elbow. All three males stood silent as they saw him walk and sit on the first chair. They came near him and with embraced look, one of them started speaking.

“Thanks for saving our son. We ill-treated you and fought with you when you came to our village. Sorry for that”

He looked at them and turned away.

“Please accept out apologies. We were enraged by your friend’s behavior and lost control when they started living our village after breaking our village law and made the two communities fight.”

He looked up and with a smile started speaking, “What was their mistake? They loved each other, made their parents accept their love and are living happily. Who are you to determine something is wrong and right? Just know one thing I am certainly not from your caste. If my blood runs in your son’s body what caste will he belong to? Stop all this and understand nothing is more important than love.”

The relatives stood there without saying anything for a few minutes. My cousin stood up and rushed to the paramedic who came out and enquired after the patient. The sense of relief spread through the room as she explained that patient is out of danger and asked everyone to be seated and remain silent.

We started from the hospital by 4.30 AM. The whole family said their thanks and they showed signs of change towards enlightenment from the darks of separation. The children gave the most memorable presents as I walked out and that was warm on my cheeks. I stretched myself on the backseat and after a very long time got drowsy and fell asleep without any thought. We reached the hotel by 7.30 AM and the marriage was from 8-9AM. The Executive bus had left when we arrived at the hotel as I had advised my Mom to do.

We rushed into the bathrooms and everyone was ready in 10minutes. Everyone except me. I had left my travel bag with all my clothes in the bus. I stood there not knowing what to do now and started searching my Dad’s bag in hopes of finding any spare shirt. Instead I found my other bag along with my mother’s luggage and saw that it had a white shirt in it. I took it out and found that it was ‘the shirt’ that I had hidden away to be kept as an antique.

The shirt which had the blessing to hold her tears, the last few which she lost on my shoulder, the shirt that still gave the jasmine smell it acquired from the petals that had fallen from her hair, the shirt that still had the red Kumkumam mark that I wiped away from my cheek as I watched her being dragged away from me. The same shirt, which I wore when I had her with me as my own, was in my hand and is my only choice to wear when she is going to be gone forever as someone else’s. I smiled at the irony filled life of mine.

My bro asked about the stain in the shirt and offered his shirt instead but I said I am okay with this one. He didn’t protest as he knew that I am not in a state to think anything else. We reached the street in which the marriage hall is situated and found our bus parked well before the hall. We parked behind it as my Uncle signaled and I came out. The intern came out running and hugged me.

“I didn’t know this will end like this. Look at the poster.”

I turned to see the poster twice, thrice in disbelief as my Mom pulled me into a cuddle.