Of Thorns and Roses

Tears rolled down her cheek as her heart beat faster and faster. It throbbed so loudly that she could hear it clearly despite all the commotion. She stood up. She felt as if it was all a movie scene, unravelling in slow motion. The volcano erupted and lava flowed. Each step trying to pull her back; each step taking her away from herself. She turned around to look at the frail, motionless figure of her six-year-old son, Keith. Her eyes blurred with warm tears that flowed down her face. She tried hard to stop, but found herself rushing to embrace his fragile body tightly. She did not want to let go, but knew she had to. There was no choice. It was a race against time and she had to win. She looked at her mobile phone helplessly, wishing it would ring, just once, but it did not. Vidya, the ever-so-confident, bubbly, vibrant and successful 34-year-old vice president of a media house, felt like she was somebody else, somebody completely unlike herself, at the moment. She had been at the Kishen Seth Hospital’s casualty for the past hour. Ambulance sirens screamed continuously as more and more people flowed into the already flooded hospital. The atmosphere was chaotic and desperate, filled with cries and mourning. She had never seen so much blood in her life, though the pain of death was not new to her. She shook her head resolutely, refusing to let memories of another day so like this sweep her away in its tide. She stared at the middle-aged man screaming in pain, holding on to his ripped arm, as another was brought in with an oozing eye. There was one whose scalp was ripped open. It was a gory sight. Vidya was numb to all the pain that was all around her, oblivious to the surroundings. All she could think of was Keith. But was she really thinking? No, she was scared. Scared? Was that the right word? She felt the same helplessness wash over her once again; the feeling she had hated all her life. The one she thought she had escaped, the feeling that had kept her awake all those cold, dark nights. “Lord! Why me? Why me again?” she kept murmuring, her eyes turning up as if expecting an answer from above, only to see the dull ceiling covered with cobwebs. “Sister! Please...Please...Please,” she pleaded once again, trying to stop the nurse rushing into the Operation Theatre. Her voice choked and her words were barely audible over the groans and cries that filled the air. “Sorry madam,” was all that the nurse could say as she hurried on holding bags of blood, pulling the door closed after her with a click that seemed final to Vidya. She lifted her eyes once again to see the face of the paan-chewing, bald attendant dressed all in white. His smile seemed to mock her misery. She felt like scraping those insolent eyes off his face. As though reading her thoughts, he gestured towards Keith and she turned once again to look at her son who lay in a corner on the floor. She was scared the rush of doctors and nurses would trample him underfoot. Vidya had to make a decision, and she had to make it now. She nodded to the attendant and his lips parted in a vile smile that showed stained and yellow teeth. She felt she’d puke as she walked towards the gruesome attendant. She wished in vain that time would stand still. She froze as a sudden realization hit her - a realization that had come so late in life. Wails, louder than all the others, echoed in the crowded room and she was dimly surprised to notice they were her own. Her cries got louder, tearing through her soul and her very existence.