The Silent Call

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.

 

 

                      *******

 

 

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

A very sad story. I like how you described the situation and the journey. I like the interactions and thoughts in the story. It is hard to lose a child. The pain is deep and forever. I did like the ending. I like the hope for a new and better life for Pupul. Thank you for the excellent story.
Coyote

[EMMIE]

Very interesting, sad and sweet at the same time, well written

[Dayran]

There are no endings, only beginnings. Nice write!