Owing A Bit Of Life

 

He was hardly breathing when we reached our medical aid post. Youngest in our team, Sepoy Rajender volunteered to be the Scout number two of our leading platoon that night.

No matter how hard you train, the very instance it happens, you can never predetermine how your body and emotions would react. Everything happened so fast that night. It started with the initiation of a trip flare and ended up with us overwhelming and bringing down two insurgents. Sepoy Rajender received a bullet wound that grazed his neck opening a big gash. The nursing assistant did whatever he could and we carried Rajender’s body five miles across the jungle to reach the nearest helipad. It was a long night.

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I woke up in the middle of night with an excruciating amount of pain slashing inside my left wrist. I felt as if I dreamt of the bleeding body of Rajender and that it woke me up. But no, it was not the reality or the guilt. It was plain and simple pain. It started the night we got ambushed. While taking cover, I fell hard on my left hand. It was numb when I lifted Rajender for five miles. It was numb every now and then after that incident. Perhaps, it was the curse which I had to live with. Perhaps, it was my sacrifice.

But for me – this pain had a name. My condition of numbness in my fingers and lingering pain in the wrist was diagnosed as “Carpal Tunnel Syndrome”. What had really caused it was never a reason for me to find. A decorated soldier with nothing more to prove, I had the option to call it a day and go for a table job at staff headquarters. But I had a debt – a debt I can only pay in the field.       

When I checked in at the Apollo Hospital, Delhi I was told that the reason for the numbness, sometimes burning sensation and pain was due to the median nerve getting compressed at the wrist.

The doctor had the Durkan test  and the Phalen’s maneuver performed in the next two days. On a scale of ten my condition was kissing seven. I was oriented with my condition in a detailed sitting and politely informed that due to the quantifiable confirmation of median nerve de-nervation an early surgery was recommended.

Surgeries and the poignant pessimism of the human mind !

It was my call. The carpal tunnel surgery was performed under local anesthesia by a team of three doctors. I was awake throughout the procedure and it took exactly twenty five minutes before I was rolled out of the operation theatre. Wide awake.

After eight weeks of physiotherapy and a couple of visits back at the Apollo, I went back to my battalion in the field area. The very first person to come and greet me was Sepoy Rajender of my platoon.

Whatever happens in life, it always encourages making you stronger. But there would always be instances where you would look back and thank a couple of hardworking people who made the difference.

I am a soldier…and I owe a lot to an institution known as Apollo Hospitals.

 

(This story is my entry for “How does Modern Healthcare touch lives?” contest.

Click http://www.apollohospitals.com/cutting-edge.php for more info)

  

 

 

 

No Love Without My Soul

 

As the cold winter night approached, the gruesome battle between the two armies came to an end. Battered bodies of hundreds of soldiers lying everywhere. Some still breathing and some long dead.

 

A young soldier – badly wounded and profusely bleeding was searching for something in his torn pockets with his broken hand. He took out a small silver bracelet with two little hearts – one blue and one pink – from his bullet ridden uniform.

 

The bracelet was given to him by his wife whom he had married just three months back before the war broke up. The young soldier kissed the bracelet and remembered her beautiful face. He was sad that perhaps he would never see her again.

 

Just then an angel appeared in front of him. The angel asked the young soldier, “You fought bravely as you had sworn. But you promised someone to come back too. How are you going to keep your promise now?”

 

The young soldier had no answer.

 

“I will give you a new life. You can go back to your wife and have a life you had promised her. But I need to take your soul with me. Your body and life would be spared. Do you want this, O! young soldier.”

 

“What would I do with a life without the only thing that completes my love, “replied the soldier. “I have loved my wife with my soul only.”

 

….and the young soldier closed his eyes…in peace…and still in love.

 

Grant Me A Forever

 

As you walk out of my dreams

Glowing like a new life, every time

I feel like the morning dew kissing your feet

You – my heartbeats’ twinkling shine

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Walking on the aisle of my immortality

Draped in the aura of a sanctimonious chant

The love we make completes our prayers

One “forever” the Gods will surely grant

 

 

When Butterflies Dare – Strength of A Blogger

 

Tamanna had always found solace and a purpose in writing. It was not a mere hobby anymore. More than the art of writing it was the want of writing which used to motivate and guide her urge and skill to weave a subtle, bright and meaningful ensemble of words and thoughts.

Her blog was much appreciated as well. Her strenuous efforts of presenting the smallest of emotions in the most sincere and realistic manner had her readers falling in love with her every post.

 

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Today, Tamanna felt weird and disappointed like never before. She had put her heart and soul in writing her first book – a delicacy of selected short stories which had already been highly appreciated and reviewed by on her blog. But inspite of all this and six months of knocking at the doors of many publishing houses, there was hardly any chance she was getting published.

Everything she had done for the past five years felt meaningless. Undesired. Unappreciated. All her writings felt of no use.

At that very moment, she saw a small butterfly flying effortlessly against the wind. That fragile creature had so much might in her gutsy wings that she was able to challenge the strong breeze that flew head on.

Tamanna had a smile on her face. She realized that it won’t matter how strong a hit you get, but if you know where you belong to and what lays inside your soul, nothing is impossible, nothing is the end and nothing would ever be against you.

 

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Life has its own way to keep you hooked onto its blog !

 

 

For The Love Of Love

I woke up in front a white painted wooden window. The bright white light filtering into the glazed verandah had a sudden but soothing effect.

In a while…I realized that it was time and I started walking.

 

It felt as if my consciousness knew where to take me. Slowly opening the door, I let myself in.

There she was – gracefully calm, glowing with élan and so beautiful – just the way she always had been.

Simply her.

 

I caressed her hair like the way I used to. She knew it was me.

She greeted me with a smile but didn’t open her eyes. She knew it was me.

 

“I always believed that you would come for me. I always believed it when you said that before leaving,” she said.

“I’m sorry but I couldn’t think of a better line!”

She smiled again….and I knew this was her peace.

 

 

When Jai died ten years ago, he promised Aparna that he would come back for her.

…and he did come back for his love of fifty blissful married years.