Mamta Kalia

And before anybody could guess his
mind, he himself resumed his statement—
”When Dr. Roy asked me what I was
thinking, I questioned back— “By the
way, do you know this patient?”
Perhaps she didn’t expect this
question, so for a moment she was
surprised, but seeing him looking at her,
said, “Sir, I keep reading such things
in papers.”
“I see!” I smiled, “I thought you
knew him personally.”
“No Sir,” Dr. Sujata Roy was as if
intent on clarifying. “The people who
have come with the patient, I guessed
from their talk that this man is a naxal
leader.”
Suddenly I remembered that Sister
Elvin hadn’t returned yet. So I instructed
Dr. Sujata Roy about the patient and
came out of ICCU quickly.
Sister Elvin met me on her return.
She looked very irritated. Looking at
me she almost exploded— “Sir nobody
is there. Biochemistry lab is locked.”
“Why?”, I was stunned. This anarchy
in this institute was nothing new, but
this time I felt irritated. I was almost
angry. I told her to go to ICCU and
went forth quickly.
On the verandah outside the institute
there was a silent but restless crowd.
Many pairs of eyes glued on me as I
came out. There was hope… there was
apprehension in those eyes… with curious
silence there was brimming entreaty. I
120 :: April-June 2010
didn’t have the courage to face them.
Trying to ignore them I went towards
doctor’s chamber. Suddenly the whole
institute became dark. Load shedding.
In that unlimited darkness, it seemed
everything stopped.
In that hideous darkness two faces
flashed in my consciousness at once,
first my wife’s, second patient Vijay Mitra
in ICCU. Both the faces collapsed in each
other and I was helplessly waiting for
light.
I was wondering why the generator
hadn’t started yet. In this unexpected
delay and the dread of darkness it was
almost impossible for me to wait. I went
towards ICCU in the darkness. As I
entered ICCU light came, or generator
started. In that sudden gleam my eyes
started flipping my lids I gazed at the
ECG monitor screen. The graph denoting
heart-beats was not there. Only a plain,
shining line. I ran to the patient. I tried
to feel his pulse. I was so troubled and
agitated that I couldn’t check his pulse.
I tried to give him cardio-pulmonary
resuscitation, but Dr. Sujata Roy stopped
me, “Sir, the patient is no more.”
I noticed Dr. Sujata Roy was neither
emotional nor uneasy. Her voice was
calm. I felt she was noticing my emotions
and uneasiness, but the truth was that
I would not accept his death. I told
Dr. Sujata Roy in a hopeless way—”No,
Dr. Roy, we could not save him!”
Dr. C.K. Bhagat stopped in between
the statement. There was sweat on his