A warm welcome once again. Well, this time around, its going to be a mega- blog for me, in the sense, i am posting my first novelette as a whole. Beleive me, this novelette has been one of the best things that has happened to me, A surprise to myself, that i could indeed create this. I am very much sure, you ll all find this one worth reading... infact, worth the time spent.
before we get started,
...At the onset, let me get somethings clear. Kindly make sure you dont associate myself with this novel. the 'I' through out refers to a imaginary character i created, and is not 'ME'. :)
Secondly, the central theme of this piece of fiction is based on Dr. Raghuram's (batch of 1973, JIPMER ) article titled 'right to live!'. A few instances, situations n in a couple of occasions a few lines have been borrowed from his enviable analysis of the subject, this novelette deals with.
This novel was inspired by reality. By reality, i mean the reality, i see around me! Readers should not think this is anything other than a work of fiction, however, as all characters in the book, whether central or peripheral, are purely the product of my imagination. Though such incidents actually occur in real life, all of the events surrounding it, as well as the actions, motivations, thoughts, and conversations of the characters, are solely my creation, and neither the characters nor the situations which were invented, are intended to depict real people or real events in life.
A license to live
Mani Prabhu.
All rights reserved.
To my dear mom, dad... and all
Those, because of whom, I stand before you,
as an author (of sorts)....Half the miseries of man, half the uncertainties, lie in his irresistible desire to answer every question with a YES or a NO. 'Yes' or 'No', ... may neither of them be the answer; each side may have in it some YES and some NO...- Somerset maugham
Never ever underestimate the human senses... for the lack of control of those five elements have been proved to be the cause of the greatest disasters, mankind has faced...- Gauthama Buddha
In the absence of certainty, instinct is all that you can folllow...
- Jonathan Caines
No woman wants an abortion as she wants an ice cream cone or a Porsche. She wants an abortion as an animal caught in a trap wants to gnaw off its own leg.
~Frederica Mathewes-Green
PROLOGUE
I wouldn't have come here at the first instance if I had known I would feel like this. The dim light was making it increasingly difficult to fathom whom I was dancing with, but the intermittent flashes of blue and white light made me ascertain that it was indeed a girl. Metallic music was emanating from the surrounding five thousand watts loudspeakers, threatening to puncture my eardrums.
The reason for all this - one more academic year was about to end shortly.
Someone passing by the floor whispered in my ear, "Hey...you are with the wrong girl man! Your girlfriend was in the fourth table from the left!” I knew it. I had come to the dancing floor on purpose. I didn't expect this kind of behavior from me, but then that was the reality.
I felt a light punch on my back, "Congrats dude! Quite expected...to be frank. Well, enjoy yourself.” it was one of my classmates. I felt bad about myself. What a kind of person am 1, to agree on a bet on such a ...and now suffer..? The person dancing with me suddenly took my hands, held them high, and started swirling. My mind swirled with her...I remembered myself saying, “Do you think I am not bold enough even to kiss my fiancé, the girl I am engaged to. It's all, but a bit embarrassing...ok, I agree!" Having said that, I had gone about it, some twenty minutes back. I expected it to be another usual routine one. But, this time, somehow it was not the same.
Those thirty seconds, which seemed like thirty hours, had something unexpected in store for me.
I felt bad about allowing such thoughts to creep into my mind... but I couldn't help it. It was as if the animal within me was trying to surface. And now, all of a sudden, all 'immoral' questions seemed to have a 'logical' explanation! I couldn't bear it, for I feared I might lose control. Immediately I had left the place, turned my back to her and had come to the dance floor. It was all left to the never-ending arguments between my reasoning and my senses now.
Someone gave me something to drink. I felt on top of heaven. My mind was not stable for quite a time.
Everything felt a bit different... everything seemed to look correct. Luscious hallucinations ruled my subconscious self. Not quite sure of mine, I could least gather her thoughts at this moment. I pierced my glance at her. She kept looking at me for some time, and suddenly bent her head. After a few seconds, she again glared at me, but this time the intensity in her eyes, blew me down. Suddenly she got up, and ran to a room nearby. I felt like saying something to her...I felt like facing her normally like I always did... or was it really an excuse for something...?
As I decided to follow her, I couldn't face my own questions. I opened the door. Her blue eyes glowing in the faint orange light met mine. And here, the questioning part of me suffered a pitiable death. I entered inside. A streak of silver white lightening flashed across the wet window panes, illuminating the room transiently. A raindrop having fallen on her forehead was making its way down her cheek. I could hear sounds of thunder, making a valiant attempt to mask the loud music, resonating within the dance floor. I started walking towards her. . . my path being guided by her killing stare. And a gush of strong wind blew, closing the door behind me...
One
San Francisco, USA.
August 11th 2007.
Monday 1 A.M.
‘I think I am pregnant' -the sentence was reverberating in my inner ear continuously, when I realized that my mobile was singing. With some effort, I glanced at my watch. It was an hour past midnight. I had battled with sleep night from ten-thirty and had dozed off just twenty minutes back. Somehow, I couldn't digest the whole thing that Anjali was talking about, the day before. Morning sickness? Couldn't be . . . she might just have had a stomach upset, I convinced myself last night. Glancing at the cell screen, I knew it was her. Unable to control my anxiety I answered the call. "Hello...!” "Yeah, it’s me. Bad news Shakthi!” I was counting the next few seconds waiting for her to continue.
“The home test kit confirms it! I am really confused. I need to see you immediately, Shakthi!” Another painful silence followed. Yes, I knew it - the thing I feared the most might have happened. I couldn't bring myself to activate my voice box all of a sudden. It betrayed me Somehow, I picked up my words, and asked her to calm down saying I will be there in an hour or so.
Two
Monday 1.15 a.m.
I could see few lights being switched on in the apartments as my car roared to life at an odd hour. I had to open the gates myself, getting down, as the guard was fast asleep on his stool. As I drove out into the streets, I asked myself, how can I face my parents if this happens to be I rue? How did I go wrong? Is it like myself to have behaved like this? ~.? To be frank, I had indeed been a very lucky person throughout my life. Being the only son of affluent parents, I had got only the best everywhere-BTech at BITS-Pilani, a M.S seat at Hopkins University, San Francisco, an angelic girl like Anjali and I couldn't have asked for more. Anjali too resembled me in many ways, making people talk that we were made for each other. Having lost her father very early in her life, she was showered with love by her mother. B.E at IIT Chennai, one thing that spoke tons of her brilliance and charm!
The San.F International airport was where we met the first day we landed here from Chennai. We were in the same class, the same discipline and in fact we got adjacent apartments for the first session. Hardly a year after our course started, I had decided she was my 'girl'. Anjali was, as a matter of fact, faster in every aspect. Before I could believe my heart, she conveyed her feelings for me in a very special way, and it was an easy story from there. We told our parents just six months back, at the end of our second year. After the natural initial hesitations, they were all quite happy at the whole idea. Anjali' smother wanted the engagement to be held immediately. And so we were engaged officially, in a function in Chennai, thronged by friends and relatives. Our marriage was scheduled a year later in April 2005. Everything seemed like a dream come true. We both returned to the States excited and determined to finish our course by February.
But there was one thing; my parents went 'crazy' about. They didn't like me hanging out very much with Anjali till marriage. I readily laughed at their advice, every time they spoke about it. But… everything was all right until that fateful day. We were partying out in the late hours, when I actually lost something more than my power to reason. I didn't know much of what happened that night. Scenes flashed in bits and pieces, as reflections on my retina. I could remember Anjali saying something like, "The rhythm method can be trusted, Shakthi! I think it’s safe today. But, is it...?" "Hey... what's wrong dear" well... well, what foolishness! What happened to my reasoning that day? I couldn't answer many of my own questions. I rushed out of the car, and rushed to the nineteenth floor as I reached Anjali's new apartment.
Three
Monday 1.30 a.m
I glanced at Sanjana, who was fast asleep hugging a huge pillow, as I crossed her bedroom. Sanju, who was doing her eight grades, was staying with her elder sister in USA for her studies. When I reached the hall, I saw Anjali sitting beside the fireplace. I hugged her. Her face was pale and her hands were cold. "Shakthi...I am sure I am pregnant da! My home test kit also says so. What are we going to do...?” I pretended to look calm, staring at her eyes. Silence reigned the hour.
"A mistake is by all means a mistake. Ok, fine.. Let’s do away with this.” I blurted out inadvertently all of a sudden. Though I didn't expect any kind of immediate reaction from her, I subconsciously expected her to nod in compliance. She looked away for a few seconds, without giving me a chance to measure her emotions. She then glared at me with narrow eyes, “Is that the only solution, Shakthi? Isn't it cruel to kill a new life... our first replica to this world... that too, before starting our marital life together?"
"What else can we do, Anju? We can't face the society for this?"
“Society... chuck it! See Shakthi, we both have been socially engaged before. For us, we are married mentally. Why don't we, you know..., tell our parents and arrange something else, like an early marriage next month or so?"
"What are you talking about, Anjali? Leave alone the society, if it's your last concern. What will happen to your studies and your ambitions? We haven't finished our courses and it's impossible for us to happen now. If you have a baby now, it will affect your career and your future very much. Are you ready Anju, to sacrifice all these to carry this one! You can't bear that dear .you know, what I mean?"
“If you haven't conceived, it would have been different, Shakthi! But now that the reverse has happened, why don't we think of something else other than abortion. Believe me ... I feel somehow its a little Shakthi or Anjali, who is eager to see the world and its treasures. Tell me honestly, does u have the heart to destroy it?
I could feel my eyes moistened a bit now. I went away to the balcony and stared at the moon. She followed me there... “But as you say, it's highly impractical for both of us to think of having the child now. But… but … should we ask someone else, like my mom or your parents, just for an opinion, Shakthi?"
My stare was still fixed at the sky. I turned and looked at her. “Sometimes they don't understand Anjali I know they haven't been brought up like that. They even warned me before, you know? I can't imagine facing them now. See Anjali, its really simple now. We have to decide."
Anjali remained silent for sometime. Even in the dim moonlight, I could still notice a faint film of uncertainty hovering over her face. Her lips quivered suddenly. She closed her eyes and bit her lower lip with her incisors. This suppressed emotion tortured me.
"Did I offend you dear? Fine, then. We will do as you say, Anju!"
Anjali moved closer to me, pulled at my shirt collar, and ran her hands all over my back.
" I'll be happy", she said, "as long as you are before me. You are such a comfort Shakthi! Maybe I am a bit too sentimental.. Am still a silly sensitive little girl. Ok, let’s make the decision.
I did not know what to say. I just pulled at her tight, let her fall over me and stroked her beautiful black hair.
“Anju", I murmured, "you must be happy. It is that simple... you will be fine soon. We will have as many kids as we want after marriage. We will see your gynec in the morning. Everything will be all right. And now, cheer up, man!"
Her consent was an inaudible soothing mumble in my ears...
Four
Monday
10.30 a.m.
The hospital smell was not for me right from my childhood days. Somehow it made me feel that 'humans' were all 'cursed beings', cursed to' suffer eternally. The bell rang after an hour's wait and we were ushered in. I knew Anjali's doc a bit before. She was a nice woman in her late fifties, still a spinster. “Well, Shakthi, you couldn't bear to wait, could you? Hey...I meant your waiting outside, she managed. I could only grin. Anjali had explained the whole situation an hour before through her mobile.
“This is not at all a problem. We will first confirm it. If its positive, then comes the decision! Most of them, you know, stumble at the decision part. “We looked at each other.”Well...” she continued, “abortions have become very safe nowadays. Especially if you go for it early- the second or the third month will be ideal. Right from the seventies, after the MTP act had been passed there has been no problem at all. The loops are always there you know, like ineffective contraception, intoxications, loose calculations..."
I didn't understand what she was saying, " excuse me mam... what was it you were saying about MTP?"
“Yes, MTP- Medical Termination of pregnancy, that is, an abortion induced in good faith for the physical and mental well being of the mother. There were deaths due to illegal abortions all over the world- such crude methods you wouldn't have ever imagined of! It was like... yes, the Quack's paradise. Well... here, you need not have any second thoughts about going for it. Anyway, in your case, if you ask me, going by the heart- you ought to have the baby. But going by the brain- abortion would be the wise decision. I leave it to both of you - the heart or the brain. ..
Five
August 12th
Tuesday 10 a.m.
After lots of discussion overnight, we voted for the brains and landed up at the maternity ward. But for the men-doctors strutting about here and there it was entirely a world of females. I was asked to wait outside as her gynec called Anjali in. Waiting outside the outpatient room and guessing what was happening inside was making me mad.
It was at this moment of unrest that a bespectacled doctor came out, a stethoscope hung round his neck. Somehow he seemed familiar to me. ‘Thank you doctor’, I said to myself, for he could spare time to gaze at me in the midst of his hurry.
“Hey... you must be Shakthi, aren't you? How are you man? How come you are here?" I gazed at him for a second without knowing how to "react. Then I got it. . .
“Hari, yeah... Hari, as usual in a hurry! Man! you have changed a lot ya! I think I saw you last at the farewell nine years back. Hey, what's that beard? He he".
Now I remembered. He was Harish- my classmate at school. I remembered his nickname too- 'The Specimen. Harish was simplicity personified right from his school days- a great fighter for the cause.
“How did you recognize me, Hari... sorry, Dr. Hari, to be precise!"? I awed at his memory. Doctors generally have an eye for details- details that strike a cord III the listener. They develop a memory for 'things' considered 'trivial' by laymen. It's their technique- a necessity Anyway, I was thankful.
"It was easy, Shakthi! You hadn't combed your hair since you were ten..." I laughed.
"I am doing my residency here in OG," he said" "Studying or working here, Shakthi? By the way, the patient is...?” he hesitated.
"I am in my final year M.S., Hopkins university, and the girl inside is my fiancé", I grinned, "Anjali- studying with me. We are getting married by April next year. And now, unexpectedly, she has conceived...I hope you have seen her."
"Yes, the senior doctor examined her. I was beside her anyway."
"What does she say?"
“Pregnancy is confirmed. And regarding your request for abortion I think there will be no problem. I will be taking care of her throughout the procedure. Simple and short, Shakthi! Before that, we have to do some tests”
“Thanks, Hari!"
"Forget it...there are, in fact, lots of things we have to catch up with. We will meet for lunch at the canteen at around twelve-thirty. Fine, I have to go for a procedure now! You complete the formalities by then. Sign up as her fiancé; I will take care.
“He walked away before I could say 'yes'. Hari- I could recognize him fully by now. His calm face and those thick-rimmed spectacles, adding an air of tranquility, mingled with an element of concern. I knew he had the stuff in him. He would surely turn out to be a successful doctor. It was fortunate that I met him; now I could know more about the mystery profession... the happiness inside- this closed world of women and their ailments. . .
Six
Tuesday 10.25 a.m.
“They are calling you!” yelled Anjali, "you've been dreaming for quite some time." "Oh yeah", I had completely forgotten where I was. From one of the rooms in the outpatient reception table, a blonde called out my name again. “Please sign here in this column," said a doctor there as soon as I entered the room. "Fine, madam. Change your attire...don't remove this badge. Ok, ten-thirty a.m.- admission for MTP- Tests scheduled!"
I wanted her to be admitted in the special ward.
“I am sorry, sir", said the brown-haired lady doctor. "But at present, it is not vacant." " . .
…. Maybe, if I tell I know Dr .Harish well. . . ", I tried using his influence.
“Sorry, sir! All beds are occupied by VIPs, sir. I can't do anything about it. The stay will be quite short... this is nothing after all. If there is a necessity, we can shift her later. If you want, you can get a diet pass. . . I mean, if you so particular about the food she takes in the wards!" “Its alright, doctor", Anjali interrupted my confused state. "I'll manage in the general ward." Then turning to me, she said, “I can get along with the food provided here Shakthi! It's after all for a day or two. Why do you want to take any trouble sending something cooked in the mess? Anyway, you know, I am barely able to cat anything outside."
In a way, she was right. In all these years I have known her, I haven't seen her at any time, enjoying a hearty meal outside home, especially during train journeys. Sometimes, I had even upbraided the silly home fixation of hers, for she cooks in her apartment. I used to eat mostly in the apartment mess and sometimes in her flat. Again, I was cut off from my reverie, as the lady doctor put in... Fine, the patient has to be taken to the wards for further tests. Why don't you come back at visiting time'!", she didn't sound too polite.
"No...But doctor, how long do you think she'll have to stay here? I mean, approximately…?
The siren of an ambulance could be heard the intensity increasing gradually. And then a screeching halt of the tires… and then lots of chaos and commotion! “Excuse me”, said the doctor, “I think it’s the complicated labor case coming up. You better, please, settle your problems with the ward head-nurse.”
Anjali was taken to the wards and I, in no mood to leave, followed here there. All I could do was sit in a hall, a few meters away from the ward. I waved to Anjali, who was inside, and she smiled back. Those made me feel a lot better. I leaned back on my chair and closed my eyes for a second…
Seven
Tuesday 11 a.m.
I could hear fast tapping sounds, which made me realize my surroundings. There was a young, black, well-dressed man in his twenties, anxiously twiddling his fingers, pacing here and there in the hall. He appeared to be the best example of an expectant father. Could be that it was his wife's first delivery or was it something like my case? I was brooding over it, smiling to myself, when something caught my eyes. There was a tall man in his early thirties, with a reluctant potbelly which was making a vain attempt at hiding inside his expensive, pressed shirt. He looked more relaxed as he sat reading the day's news from the local daily 'The voice of San.f’ I stared closely at him. He looked very much Indian in many aspects. Should I ask him out? I was wondering to myself, when he suddenly lifted up his head and shifted to the seat next to me. He must have seen me too. "Want a glance of the paper...?” he offered.
“Thanks, but am not really interested in daily news. Seriously, is anything at all happening on the surface of the globe... terrorism, violence- same stuff...?” I pretended to sound a bit smart.
“There is a bit of interesting news from New York", he continued, wiping a particle of soot from the corner of his eye with his little finger; "a pregnant woman got trapped in the debris of a house, which collapsed in New York yesterday, and believe me, in the shock, gave birth to a premature infant!" “Really shocking!" "There's more...imagine, when the rescue workers from 911 arrived at the scene, the infant was crying. But it was nearly dead. They saved him alter an hour's intensive care. But, anyway guts is guts, sir! The thirst for life... how that small little creature won the battle!"
I gulped as I felt something blocking my throat.
"Excuse me if! Am boring you . . . but, just think! The kid croaked, possibly. I would have given it a posthumous award for gallantry! If there is a will- a down to earth fight- to live, to prove its presence, anything can exist- a worm, a kid, an elephant!" He paused, probably seeing me turn pale, hut went on, "... look at our condition- the way we arc struggling! To get a living life out of another human being pain, anxiety, suffering, stress... everything! Feminity must be divine, you know!" He again gave a break, expecting me to tell something and then came out, "Ok, fine, we both know why we are talking to each other now. Let’s come to the point. I am Rahul from Orissa, Asst. programmer Infosys, New Street." “Shakthi from Chennai, Sir! Final year M.S. Bioinformatics- Hopkins University. Pleased to meet you, Sir!"
I shook his hands.
"Well, Shakthi...if you don't mind, you can call me 'Rahul'! I am not that old you know... just thirty-one! Already started graying ya...” he joked. “I have admitted my wife, Angeline, for her delivery. Doctors say that there might be a one percent chance of caesarean section... that's why! What about you, Shakthi?" I hesitated a bit. My situation was not as simple as his. I really couldn't decide whether to tell him or not.
"It’s like... err... its like, you know, well... ", I couldn't come out.
"Well, are you pregnant?” he tried to joke again.
“It’s like I m getting married by April next year after I complete my course. And now, unexpectedly, my fiancé has conceived. She needs to concentrate on her studies.... and so I have admitted her for an abortion" I poured it out clean and blank.
At this, Rahul's expression changed a bit. He least expected this, I presume. For a moment, he was in a state of indecision as to what to talk to me next. However, he recovered very soon and continued his ceaseless chatter. I was not bored. No doubt he was a successful executive.
He knew what to talk, where to talk, and how to talk! He had mastered the trick of charming his listeners and baffling them with his verbal pomposity. At the same time, he seemed really caring by heart.
"You know one thing...” he said, bringing me back to reality, "my wife had a miscarriage for the second time last year. I was really shattered and shaken to the core, but we have to learn to accept things as they come, you know!"
I nodded silently.
The young expectant father, who couldn't stick his back to a flat surface till now, was nervously scanning the floor. He turned an irritated glance at us, and then mumbled something, evidently, not in a mood to enjoy our chatter...
Eight
Tuesday 11.44 a.m.
“There comes my wife. . .” shouted Rahul excitedly. I could see a well-built American lady, probably twenty-five, give or take a year, wearing a light blue salwar. She made a 'namaste', catching me by surprise, but I recovered quickly and reciprocated. She looked blankly at me. "He is from India. His fiancé is admitted for an abortion, an untimely pregnancy...” Rahul spoke for me.
"You must be Mr. Shakthi then", she asked me, all of a sudden.
For a second, I stared blankly at her. 'This lady is really a bundle of surprises', I mumbled to myself.
Recovering once again, I asked, “yes, but...how... how do you know?" “If I know Anjali, I should know Shakthi also, right?” she giggled.
"Anjali! How come..?" “We met just an hour back. I am in the bed next to her in the ward. Due to sudden shortage of beds, I was shifted temporarily to the MTP ward. Got it now?” she again smiled.
“Don’t sleep too deeply, honey! I don't want an accidental abortion performed on you!” Rahul commented, which couldn't be deciphered as a joke or serious talk.
“Come on, Rahul! Speak nice things only. . . ", she shot back.
Just then, Anjali entered the hall. I was least ready, but, somehow beckoned her towards us and introduced her to Rahul.
"I am happy that Anjali has got someone to speak to", I told Angeline. "If you stay long enough, she might even bore you to insanity. I was worried that she was going to be alone. At this rate, I think she need not even go to the special ward." "There's no problem, Shakthi", said Angeline, "she is just like a sister to me. You don't have to bother yourself much about her.”
“It’s so nice of you. I must thank you and Rahul... you have been such an encouragement in a place like this, you know! I was really tensed up. It happens, more often than not, in new places... that too in hospitals...
Nine
Tuesday 12.10 p.m.
The couple had moved away to have their bit of conversation. Anjali then started off her personal talks in a typical way, standing as close as her judgment of the surroundings would allow- another demoralizing proximity.
She got most of her propositions accepted only during such conversations. I would never become immune to it.
“Listen", she mumbled, “I have asked Sanju to have lunch at school. Pick her up at four-thirty and let her stay in your flat till I am discharged. For heaven’s sake, don't eat wit her in the mess, she is allergic to the food. Ask her to cook something... even if she protests... help her in it. Then, when..." The young expectant father was still pacing the floor, wriggling his hands all the time. ".. .Look here!” Anjali said, rather loudly.
"Aren't you listening? Can't you imagine the state I am in!
To be cooped up in a sick place like this with a little sister left alone at home! Ok... when you come in the evening, bring Sanjana along with you. She must be wondering what had happened to me." I kept on nodding ceaselessly.
"Why don't you ask Mrs. Kapoor in the ground floor to cook some food for Sanju also?"
" Sanjana... Sanjana... Sanjana, your precious little sister! I will take care of her. You don't worry!", I blurted out.
She seemed a bit shaken, but remained silent for sometime.
" Ok.. .Ok, Anjali! Come on, you seemed to have done lots of planning.. . After marriage, I think you will manage the home efficiently enough, for me to sleep the whole day!" She gave me one of her typical smiles, which only I in the whole world, could read- a faint minuscule twitch of the angles of her mouth and a sudden coloring which she usually manifested when I flattered her.
" Shall I get some spare clothes for you? Give me your key.."
" Aah, yes! Good that you reminded me! I nearly forgot", she said and rattled off a long list, " the light blue night pants, the pink tops and that yellow chudi..." " Enough! You seem to be more at ease than me here!”
I shouldn’t have said that. She suddenly turned pale, her eyes drooling and her lips showed off its usual tremble. It was as though she was about to say something and then decided against it. “ Anju… anything the matter?”, I asked, a little worried and angry at myself. “Nothing,” she said, “bring Sanjana when you come in the evening.”
Ten
Tuesday 12.25 p.m.
It was nearly twelve thirty when all this was over. I had anyway not to attend college that day. Above all I had to meet Hari. I dragged my aching feet to the lunchroom. Hari was already there in the lunchroom. We collected our trays and reached the table.
" Then, tell me Dr.Hari.. .How is life? You studied at AIIMS- Delhi, right?" " Shakthi, come on! That is how others address me- Dr. Hari. But I personally don't like myself called that way, by people close to me. Well... you know, many make it sound as if the emphasis is on 'Dr.' and not on 'Hari'!" I smiled.
The coffee was rather hot and we turned our attention to the cold sandwiches. In our short conversation, I told him about my college, my friends, Anjali and the story behind our marriage shortly. I came to know that he is working fifteen hours a day, and is yet to find a girl! I envied his sincerity towards his profession. We discussed some friends of ours. But, in my mood, I couldn't pursue any lengthy discussion on any of the matters. Perhaps, it was too immature on my part, I started bringing the conversation round to Anjali! Was I being overanxious, I didn't know! Hari, given his brilliance, sensed it and reverted to my line of thought.
"Frankly speaking, how many days will she have to be there?", I asked.
" Not more than four days.. . and sometimes even less than that. See, by tomorrow, most of the investigations will be over and then we'll do the laminaria tent... "
" The lami... what?" " ...It's a sort of sea-weed used to dilate the cervix. Well... err.. . You know the cervix-the mouth of the uterus. It swells gradually when moist, so there is sudden dilatation, which is detrimental. Once this is done, then further dilatation is done with surgical instruments and all the products of conception arc cleared. This is an age-old method, time tested.. . Really effective. She may have to remain for a day or two for follow-up. That's it. Shakthi...! Think you are needlessly anxious about her. I simply don't find any reason. . . " "Yes I was anxious. And I could find no reason for it! Perhaps... it was because I had the inner feeling that she was being subjected to all this because of me, due to my coercion.. My convincing her on the issue. Or was it my conscience pricking me at the thought of this destruction- the annihilation of a part of my own self and hers? Oh! Hell... this goddamned sentimentality! How ridiculous that knowing the futility of sentimental dogmas, we still remain powerless prisoners at the hands of those same sentiments. Now I was planning to destroy that bit of life, growing in Anjali's womb! Is it living? Can it be considered a life? When would it become a being? The other day. . .I remember reading in a book, that a child inside the uterus is viable after 20 weeks. It was also said in it that the embryo is complete at eight weeks of development. Then when is it a crime? Destroying it at 8 weeks or 20 weeks? Does it come under 'murder'?
Somebody had said something about 'destruction' - yes, Ernest Hemingway- 'Man can be destroyed, but not defeated'! So then I was going to destroy that little fellow little body perhaps with a soul, in its phase of development-before he is given a chance to see the wonderful world...
Eleven
Tuesday 12.45 p.m.
. "Your coffee must be getting cold!", Hari's voice brought me back to the lunch room. "Shakthi', I was watching you- the way you suddenly went into a trance, like a saint. Hey…You didn't seem to be coming back.
“Anything interesting?"
. "Oh! Nothing, Hari...I was just chewing the cud, analyzing this action of ours- abortions, I mean! How ethical or moral is it?"
"Oh, forget it!", he said, trying to laugh. "We will be getting nowhere if we start talking of morality and ethics. These things are relative, you see, just like Newton's theory! 'You may have to do an immoral thing just because that particular life situation demands it! Just because that thing benefits some people, the adjective 'immoral' loses the ‘im’ in it.. .how easy! Like that doctor in the novel 'Hospital.' by Arthur Hailey, who lies for the benefit of his patients, Its all relative..." " I was wondering," I said abruptly, "whether to take leave for the week. It's a big hangover for me, and I don t think I would be able to concentrate on my project. And now, I have to do hers too. ..God!"
"Cool it, buddy! Why all this trouble? Relax, she is going to be normal very soon! It’s after all a plain curettage or at the most- a suction evacuation.
I didn't catch much of what he was saying.
Being immersed in medical jargon all through his personal life, he was probably finding it difficult to avoid using them. Did I appear foolish in asking him the meaning of those terms? But I had to know. Hari was generous as any fresh doctor, and meticulously explained the technique behind those apparently simple procedures.
" Shakthi, it becomes my duty to explain the procedure to patients because they have to be aware. The situation here is completely different from that of our country! Here, patients demand their right to know! More so...when we deal with people like you! I mean those who are related to biology. . . what you do with computers, we do with humans! That's all." I grinned.
" And so... when you are so much interested, I feel I must tell you explicitly what's being done! But, regarding Anjali's case, it’s yet to be decided. The chief will give her final opinion tomorrow morning, after the central lab furnishes the routine test results. I am in particular interested in knowing her hemoglobin levels... she looks a bit weak to me. But, nothing to worry! Well... coming to that novel 'Hospital'..." " I haven't read that book. . ." "No! Its something, which no one related to medicine should miss reading- worth every single letter of it. I'll bring it tomorrow!"
" Thanks," I said, trying hard to control my yawn, which threatened to surface any time.
" It seems like you have had your last attempt at sleep two yugas back. You look half dead yaar! Why don't you go and get some solid sleep? We'll meet tomorrow!" I stood up nodding. We shook hands and I hurried to my car. It started after some initial grunts. As I drove off the gates, I could see another ambulance entering the hospital. I sighed...
Twelve
Tuesday 2.15 p.m.
Somehow, I wasn't in my usual self for quite some time. I narrowly escaped two accidents, as I drove home from hospital. Something was bugging me too much. I got up from the sofa, moved to the tall windows and stared at the streets below. They were all buzzing with activity. I heard someone at the doorstep. It was the apartment guard who had come on his regular rounds. "Sir! You seem to have skipped lunch today. Shall I get you something to eat?" " Today, I am going hungry," 1 said inadvertently, not really meaning it. Strangely I was feeling hungry again. "Yes, thanks! Anything you can get!" He came back with some pasta and macaroni. I just grunted. I had no choice. Sometimes I felt I was being too dependent on Anju or others? Why couldn't I cook myself? ...start washing my clothes?... taking care of myself Somehow, I lacked the energy, the will! I sat glued to the chair like a statue.
Nothing was appetizing. The eatables just went down my throat mechanically. To my surprise, after a few gulps, my hunger disappeared. I couldn't take a second helping. Almost three fourths of what he brought, was left untouched. I was wondering what had happened to me when I decided I would take the easy way out. I walked into the room and made myself comfortable in bed. I tried to sleep.. . and succeeded this time, quite easily. I was cut off from the agonizing reality at least for the present, transcending myself to the unexplored world, where dreams effortlessly conquer reality...
Thirteen
Tuesday 4 p.m
It was horrible. There were screaming and laughter everywhere- sights of flesh and blood splattered around. Strange incomprehensible voices echoed all around .. . And there was me, smashing an egg, from which a human head came out and spat a greenish yellow liquid at me.
Then, I was running with a fork to carve the head. . .
I got up stunned, and sweating profusely. I strolled up to the cooler, and got myself something to drink.
It was not like me to get such dreams... 'Something is really wrong. But what is it?', I asked myself.
Like a human robot, I dressed up mechanically and hurried to Sanju's school, this time really careful not to risk my life while driving. She was playing basketball with her friends in the court. On seeing me, she rushed towards me with a smile.
“What Shaky? Has Anju still not finished her hospital tests?" Despite Anjali's constant pleas not to call me 'Shaky', Sanju didn't seem to change her 'naughty' ways. I didn't mind it after all, for it made me feel a lot younger.
"No, Sanju! Doctor says she has to stay a couple of days for a few more tests. She'll will be back soon after that..."
“But... she didn't say she would have to stay overnight!”
“Sanju, it was unexpected, you know? You can stay with me till then. We will have fun... we can try cooking...
Come on, cheer up now!" Sanjana was the typical representative of the class of people known as 'chatter-boxes'! She soon started rattling off with ease, all her experiences that day, as I drove back home. She was, in particular, very upset over the fact that her new friend had ditched her for another girl!
She cleverly avoided the 'sex' of that new friend! I could only smile at everything she said!
I made coffee for both of us. As we sat over a kappa each, she asked me what was exactly wrong with her sister. " Some menstrual problem, Sanju.. .," I managed. I could a sense of dissatisfaction on her face. It was clear that she wanted to ask more, but was struggling to put it to words.
“You look really upset, Shaky! Is it something serious? Can’t tell me?", she asked again after three minutes of uneasy silence. This was all making me feel really bad. Should I tell her? Is a fourteen-year-old girl, brought up in the United States, mentally prepared to understand my situation? I was battling with this thought, when my lips suddenly moved without my brain's command...
"Nothing serious, Sanju! She'll be back soon!"
"Fine, then, why don't you we play a game of chess now, just to cheer you up, Shaky!" I agreed more out of the compelling urge to prove - to prove to myself that I was alright indeed, than for any genuine interest at this time. But, ...it didn't help me much, for the game lasted only four moves as I was checkmated in two minutes. Sanju couldn't believe her eyes, because this was the first time, I had lost a game of chess. It told me something… And I knew it. I had started to lose..
Fourteen
Tuesday 5.30 p.m.
I was staring at the clock for more than fifteen minutes then, waiting for it to show half past five. I wanted to see Anjali again." Why don't we go and meet your sis, Sanju? Come... we will be back in an hour!" She was only too happy to accompany me.
When we reached the hospital gate, it was already nearing six p.m. The hustle of the day was slowly waning and the light breeze was soothing to my worn out stressed body. " No kids inside Sir, without a kid-pass!", the gate-keeper said, stopping us. I had never expected this.
Sanjana went really mad, " You see...I am not a kid. And better don't call me so!" "If you are below eighteen years of age, you are a kid madam! You need a pass!", grinned the gate-keeper. Something inside me gave some comfort!
'She's a kid indeed', I told myself!
" Well, Dr. Harish in obstetrics asked me to come. He knows I'll be bringing this girl!" He sent us in after a confirmation through the intercom. We walked towards the ward, Sanju holding a packet of fruits in her hand. Anjali looked very disturbed and was seated on the edge of the bed, when we reached it.
I expected Sanjana to say an emphatic 'Hai' and hug her immediately, just like the way I had seen in films. But, it didn't happen. For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Anjali, I think, looked very much different in the hospital setting- rather pale and matronly. What was that, which was changed in her, I wondered? Maybe it was... because she had removed her necklace and earrings, and her hair was a mess.
"What's so strange about me for you to keep staring?", she asked suddenly, breaking the silence.
Sanju recovered quickly and managed, "how are you Anju? Feeling comfortable?" "I am fine! How was your day? Have you taken your coffee? How about your test today? Did you have difficulty finding out Shakthi? Don't eat dinner outside. . .I had told him that you will be cooking a bit", she kept on rattling off things. It sounded as if she had been memorizing it for more than an hour.
I felt proud of my Anjali. What a responsible sister she is proving to be? And, what a great mother she would be? How wonderful she will feel then? A teardrop found its way down my cheek. I imagined Anjali holding our little daughter and me feeding her small mouthfuls...a cute little girl between me and Anjali in our bed, hugging us with both hands… we playing together in the lawn. 1 couldn't bear to imagine any further. I opened my eyes, forcing myself out of the reverie.
Sanjana was standing close to Anjali, peeling one of the oranges, she had brought with her. She was calm and composed, enjoying her sister's company as quietly as possible. "How's the food here?", she asked suddenly.
"The lunch was quite good Sanju. Hope it continues!" With that, they broke into whispers. I wondered what they were talking in such low hushes.
I was left behind as a silent spectator.. .
Fifteen Tuesday 6.20 p.m.I was surprised looking at the variety of patients in the ward, when Angeline returned to her bed.
She raised her hands in greetings. On seeing Sanjana with Anjali, she gave a puzzled look, which quickly changed to a sweet tender passionate glance. "Anjali's little sister, I suppose?", she said. I could see the hint of anger, as expected, on Sanjana's face. I knew it. I had seen this happen hundreds of times before. She can tolerate anything other than being called 'little'.
"Where are studying dear?" , it was Angeline again.
"St. Peters- eight grade" Sanjana didn't seem to like Angeline for some reason. As far as I noticed, she mostly replied in rude one-liners!
I came to her rescue, changing the subject quickly.
"Hasn't Mr.Rahul come?" " No," she said, "he has a conference scheduled. He is expecting an official promotion.. So he did not want to bunk it. The doctors say that the expected date of delivery will probably be only after a week or so. So he has gone on the outstation appointment. You know, business is important.. Isn’t it?" And she grinned rather uneasily as though she had been a little irreverent of her own pregnancy.
"Certainly," I said, "but, wont it be comfortable for you to have your husband around, incase there is some urgency and an emergency caesarian sometime! " As soon as I said this, I bit my tongue. I reproached myself for having spoken to her like that. This was their first child.. . and if i called it like that, it would have affected her very much. How many mistakes we have to commit, before finding out things for ourselves…before realizing our own limitations and shortcomings!
"You know yesterday," went Angeline, trying to ease the situation at once, "we had a real scene here. The labor room is nearby and a young lady- probably having her first kid- created a ruckus, shouting the whole place down. For a whole day, she had been yelling every few minutes. Every time she ran, the nurses had to control her with pain-killers. It really disorients you, you know... like when you sort of imagine- the day, when your turn comes.." Her attempt to ease things had exactly the reverse effect. I was feeling uneasy a bit more. I couldn't look at Anjali. I was, on top, concerned of what effect this would have on Sanjana's mind.
"Well. . . it depends on how you look at things.
By the way, are you reading any books now? I remember Rahul telling me that you are a voracious reader!” I said in an attempt to move very far from that awful topic.
"Yes, she reads like mad," Anjali joined me too. "She's even given me a novel 'The murderer'!" I gulped. All my attempts at speaking something nice were going in vain. Has she given the book on purpose? Who knows? I felt like asking her, but controlled myself. We didn't feel the time move on, until the strident tone of a long bell tore through our eardrums.
"There's the signal!" said Angeline, "They don't allow visitors to stay any longer!" "Ok, Anjali. I presume they will take a few more tests tonight. You eat well... don't neglect your health. Already you look very weak! III come tomorrow then," I exclaimed.
"Everything is fine here for me! I will be all right. You relax, and sleep well. Take care of Sanjana.
Drop her at school tomorrow!" And as in the morning, she started off her long list of instructions as what all I should do about our projects. I listened as passively as possible, nodding all the while. She then kissed Sanjana, giving her characteristic smile.
I took leave of her and started walking out, Sanju closely following behind. I badly wanted to stay with Anjali that \light, but I couldn't! As I drove home, not a single word was exchanged between Sanjana, and me surprisingly.
Everything was painfully different. . .
Sixteen Tuesday 8.30 p.m.
Once home, it was a strange feeling that I had- something I couldn't comprehend. A sudden emptiness- like an abrupt silence that follows, when you switch off a five thousand watt speaker. Thankfully, Sanjana was back to her original self, chattering endlessly.
We had made some vegetable sandwiches and scrambled eggs for dinner. Sanju was now busy with her own problems- elementary mathematics, trigonometry and such stuff. I got some milk for her. After washing the plates, I returned back to the hall, only to find Sanju fast asleep on the top of her Maths book. I replaced the book with a pillow and covered her with a blanket. Closing the windows, I turned on the room heater.
I tried to read the book, which Hari had given me, in vain. I couldn't concentrate. Unable to decide on anything to do, I finally returned to bed. For a long time, I couldn't get a wink of sleep. The cold air was also responsible to a certain extent.
I lay sulking for quite a while. Unable to stand it any longer, I got up, switched on the table lamp and started studying. I continued it for an hour, even as I knew quite well that nothing was going into my head. I turned on the heater and returned to bed. To my disgust, after a few minutes, it felt hot. I went and switched it off. Why was I struggling like this? How silly of me to behave hike this at the separation of Anjali for a few says! Oh! These over attachments! Was Anjali also feeling the same way? The roar of a jet plane, flying over the apartment, shattered the silence of the night. Then, there was the noise of the rapping of the guard's boot on the hard ground outside. At times, there was a change of note, when the fellow stopped for some reason or the other
Seventeen
Tuesday 10.25 p.m.
I hadn't won the battle with sleep yet, when my mobile rang. I couldn't recognize the number. Before I could answer the call, it stopped. It reminded me of Anjali. She used to give me missed calls continuously for an hour if she couldn't sleep. The number of missed calls will reach twenty or mo.re. Still... she will not talk. She will keep calling and disconnecting. At last, unable to stand the torture, when I call her back, she will ask me to keep talking until she slept. I used to go wild. My heart felt heavy thinking of it.
How did those bonds between us happen to have deeper roots than those we exhibited in wakeful life? Wasn't it more powerful and meaningful when compared to the luscious physical contacts! Then, it wouldn't have come to this now. I didn't know. Why this uncontrollable desire? What's so appealing which makes man go mad about it? Perhaps, I should have studied the human mind Psychology! I should have become a psychiatrist- a medical man! Then, I would have known everything inside out what was happening inside Anjali's uterus? What would happen when we try to destroy it..? How a shapeless ball like mass of tissue gets the shape of a miniature human when it grew up, how it would come out! Now I had to hang on Hari for those details. Lucky that I had run into him… Sometimes, God is considerate after all. Nowadays how many doctors pause to tell you all you wanted to know? They have so many problems of their own...is it like my job- with numbers, programs, and reports? How would it feel to study twelve continuous years after school to enter a profession, which was going to tax you for the rest of your life? How would it feel to operate for 48 continuous hours to save a life, finally saying its all God's grace! How would it feel to be a doctor like him seeing births, ecstasy, relief, pain, deaths, and dead bodies everyday!
Don't they become hard-hearted? Will they still be able to enjoy the day-to-day pleasures? Oh! the way he talked about scraping that thing from the inside of a pregnant woman… Aah! And about the vacuum suction, the pump forced in...
The string was cut off when I heard a scream outside. Startled and caught off guard, I rushed to the hall.
Sanjana was seated on the sofa, staring at me and at the ceiling alternatively. Speechless, she was sweating heavily.
As I looked round, I saw nothing else other than a lonely lizard on the wall. She signaled for some water. As I brought her a glass, I knew it. She had had a nightmare. I sat adjacent to her feet, talking with her, until she dozed off again.
It was another half an hour, before I went to sleep, mine- quite free from dreams. Or rather, I was too tired for that too. All I could see was black… all I could feel was darkness- a deep black tunnel through which I was falling… and got lost in endless space...
Eighteen
August 13th
Wednesday 7.10 a.m.When I got up, the sun was already shining bright. Sanjana had woken up and was taking her bath. I went up to the windows, removed the curtains and let the morning breeze fall on my face. I went to the cooler and got something to drink. I felt very tired. Every muscle ached and my eyes smarted. I should have taken some sleeping pills last night; at least I could have slept peacefully, I thought.
Once again, the daily routine started- but without the call from Anjali wishing me 'good morning'! She must be sleeping because of the medicines, I told myself. When I called up Hari, he asked me to come in the evening. Sanju made breakfast somehow, this time managing with instant idly-mix. As I had decided not to go for classes, I rushed off to see my project guide after dropping Sanjana at school. I knew I would have to work with him at least till lunch. . .
Nineteen
Wednesday 5 p.m.I had returned home from my professor's place only at half-past four, picking up Sanjana from school on my way back. I knew I had lots of things pending to do or else, both Anju and I wouldn't be able to submit our projects on time. I decided to visit the hospital alone, leaving Sanjana with Mrs. Kapoor downstairs.
As I reached the ward, I heard a familiar voice calling at me. "Hello," said Hari, as I turned back. "How are doing? You look a bit Ok now! By the way, did you see the editorial in today's 'Hindu'?" . . .1 :vas taken aback. How could he start a topic like this, a trivial one at least to me, when I was in such mental torture over my actions and my fiancé’s predicament!
"No, I didn't have the time to read". My eyes signaled out to him to tell me about Anjali.
"Oh... she's quite alright, except that you didn't tell me that she is a bit anemic and has had a history of UTIs. She is fine now and we are treating her mild cervicitis with antibiotics.This will also do some good for her urinary infection."
I really got upset.
"Its nothing, Shakthi! Quite a lot women nowadays have mild cervicitis and urinary tract infections. Its just that we are taking adequate precautions."
He came along with me to Anjali's bedside.
She smiled, and said "Good morning, doctor! Shakthi... I heard you two were great friends!"
"We are still!," Hari added.
After a bit of sentiments with Anjali and her usual list of advices, I took a break and met Hari outside in the corridor.
"Our chief will come on rounds and give her opinion now," he said. "Well...I think we can talk about it in detail in the duty room. I will be there by Six-fifteen. Hope you'll free your sweet-heart by then!" We laughed, I in particular rather uneasily.
When I returned, Angeline had joined Anjali and had started her usual reel of neighborhood news. I couldn't understand how Angeline and Anjali got along as childhood friends so easily. But then, those were the ‘girl’ things! Just then, a lady doctor came and read the pad.
"You are Mr. Shakthi?", she asked.
I nodded.
"Mr. Shakthi, please see to that she gets some nourishing food. I wonder why she became anemic. Is she a strict vegetarian?" "Its like I eat very little of meat and eggs”, replied Anjali rather quietly, ' .
"They've put her on iron and vitamin pills. Injections are also being considered. Eat well, young lady!', she said and continued walking.
I tried to talk to Anjali, but she was busy chattering off with Angeline. I was left alone. Angeline was telling something about a lady with a heart disease, who was nearby dying in the post-natal ward. The trauma of childbirth had been too heavy and nothing could be done to revive her failing heart...
I wondered why she kept talking of such matters very often. Though I didn't see anything wrong in it, it was nevertheless awkward- to keep talking of pain and suffering in a hospital. From the adjoining labor room, feminine screams filled the air every now and then. I sighed. The loudspeaker provided us with healing music in a barely audible tone. There was a hubbub of visitors everywhere around us- fathers, brothers, husbands, mothers, sisters, and children- all assortments made their presence felt. The atmosphere of worry, hope and pain lingered quite obviously. . .
Twenty Wednesday 6.17 p.m.I was punctual in meeting Hari in his room. Luckily for us, there was no one else there. It was a small cozy place with a bunk bed, a worn-out sofa, a washbasin and a stack of books. The dettol odor combined with a strange smell of carbolic acid seemed to be omnipresent.
"Make yourself comfortable, Shakthi,' he said, leaning against the wall and hanging his feet down the cot. I noticed a chain, with a crucifix hanging from it, around his neck as he removed his knee length apron. I wanted to ask him about it, but he started talking without much gap.
"You haven't informed your parents or your in-laws... I presume!", he started, looking me straight into my eyes.
"Yes, Hari, I thought it will only unnecessarily create stress, tension and hard feelings. They might not be that understanding and broadminded.. . and, you know! It's just that I felt this is simple enough for us to handle. Isn't it?"
I gave the last tag, a rather strong, obvious stress, indicating that it needed a convincing answer "Sure Shakthi! Simple. But there are some things you ought to know!"
"What Hari? Anything serious?"
. . "Nothing.. . calm down! This evening, the chief examined her. . ." he started. And he gave a gap, got up from his seat, and walked towards the window. I waited.
" ... and she feels that the uterus size is more than sixteen weeks," he finished.
"It couldn't be," I said, rather childishly, "she has been pregnant only for three months...it couldn't be!" . " .
He smiled. "Shall I tell you one thing", he stopped for a moment “This one might be a big baby, maybe!" A strange feeling swept through me.
"Hey, Shakthi! See.. . your calculations are just based on the number of missed periods. When did you say she had her LMP, I mean her last periods? There are lots of fallacies in these dates. Sometimes, you know, cervicitis can produce a little bleeding, which she could have mistaken for a period. That's what had made her come for help quite late. Anyway, on abdominal examination and on ultrasound we have confirmed the size of the uterus. The scan too appeared to be a bit deceptive..."
"So... ?"
"And, I don't think we will be doing what I was telling you yesterday- the dilatation and evacuation. The decision is also in view of her history of servilities. We will mostly do the intra-amniotic saline." I blinked.
"It' s. .. err . . . like, the introduction of a strong salt solution into..."
"Saline!", I interrupted, rather tensely.
"Yes, saline. Into the fluid filled bag called amnion which surrounds the fetus". He looked straight into my eyes, adjusted his glasses and continued. "Its done by an injection”. You have to then wait for 36 to 48 hours for the dead fetal contents to be expelled out automatically. .. The good news is that we’ve done the urine and blood tests and the results are satisfactory to go ahead with it!
"How safe is it?"
“Perfectly safe...you need not worry Shakthi!"
"How long will she have to stay?", I asked, still worried. .
"Not much. See now, we are giving her Iron for her anemia. Then after bringing her urinary tract infection fully under control, we will do it by Friday morning latest. As simple as that.. .don't worry ya, everything's going to be fine!"
I nodded.
"By the way, here is a copy of 'Hospital', just to relax you!"
"Thank you. It's so nice of you Han, to have told me every inch of it. Or else these things would have been such a mystery for me. Hope I'll find some time to read this book.
He offered to take me out for coffee, but I couldn't accept it. It was already late and I had to leave. It was raining cats and dogs when I reached home...
Twenty one
August 15th.
Friday 7.15 p.m.Slowly, 1 had got used to the hospital smell and being with Sanjana in the apartment. The routine of dropping and picking up Sanju, cooking with her, going out for project field-work and visiting the hospital had been established.
Nothing quite interesting had happened since Wednesday evening. It was all the same. Anjali, not quite cured of her anemia, was still on iron pills. She was until now undergoing treatment for her cervicitis too. Hari had fixed the procedure for Saturday evening, as the chief expected everything to be all right by then.
I couldn't concentrate on anything. I felt like being possessed by something. 1 had even since been living on the concept that abortion was nothing but a day's affair.
And 1 couldn't bring myself to accept this. I started doubting my own decisions. To add to the misery, Sanjana constantly kept asking me of Anjali.
It was at this situation when the mobile rang. It was my dad calling from Chennai. I answered the call, reminding myself to sound cheerful.
"Hello, Shakthi? How are you da?"
"Am doing fine pa! How are you and mom?"
"Everyone is fine here. How is your health? Are you still eating outside?"
"I am Ok pa. Am trying to cook here for quite some days now!"
"Good. Ma keeps talking about you, Shakthi! We miss you a lot you know!"
"Me too, dad!"
"Then, how is your project on the run? Are you working hard on it?"
"Yes pa, will be over by November end."
"Make sure it is. Then how is Anjali then? Is she studying well too?"
"Hmmm..."
"Are you hanging out always with her, scanning the city?"
What Shakthi? Are you there? Hello. Are you there?"
Dad didn't know that I was busy fighting my conscience for the last two minutes.
"Yes, dad!", I came out with some effort.
"She's fine and doing well too! Everything will be over by December pa!"
"Nice, Shakthi! Make sure you get a perfect distinction!"
"Sure, dad! You take care and tell ma that i miss her too!"
"Will tell her surely.Ok, bye! Call you later!"
"Bye, dad. Take care!"
I hung up and hit myself on my cheek. I was angry with myself for many things. I wanted to open up to someone close, pour out everything, but I couldn't. Why not dad? Well, there were no answers. I wasn't able to close my eyelids for quite a long time that night...
Twenty twoAugust 16th
Saturday 3 p.m.I went to the hospital to know whether Anjali would be given the intra-amniotic saline. As I walked towards the ward, I found that Hari was nowhere to be seen. As I entered Anjali's ward with a special pass that Hari had given me, I was shocked to see her bed empty. The head-nurse there directed me to the post-partum ward, saying Anjali had been transferred there from one P.M. Angeline, I was told, was shifted back to her original ward.
Climbing the two flights of stairs, courtesy: lift under repair, I landed up in a noisy place where feminine odors mingled with the usual perspiration and alcohol smells. Anjali, fortunately, was given a bed near the window. There was a fresh breeze there. When I walked towards her, she was dozing, looking really pale and drained.
Hearing me sit beside her, she opened her eyes. "Come Shakthi! Where have you been since morning? I needed to see you badly... you know how painful it was! She was on the verge of breaking out her emotions, but controlled herself. From what she said, I gathered that the intra-amniotic saline had been injected in the morning, as the chief had the day off in the afternoon.
"I can't stand these injections da," she mumbled faintly. 1 couldn't stand to hear this line from her. I stared away to hide the teardrop, which had escaped my eye, from her "Today they gave me penicillin too- two shots and 1 can't move my shoulder," she continued. 1 couldn't meet her eyes.
She sat up with difficulty and 1 sat next to her in her bed. After a long silence, which might have spanned some three minutes, she broke down into tears. 1 felt it. . . she couldn't control herself any further. It was good for her to let it out. But 1 had to react. "Anjali! Come on... what's all this?", 1 asked, quite flustered. " How strong you used to be? Why are you weeping like this? Come on... look around. Everybody has sensed that something's wrong. Now wipe your tears and look at me!"
Anjali took the end of a dupatta lying nearby and covered her face, controlling herself slowly. The patients from the other beds were not very much aware of this. They had their own problems and their relatives to talk to- to weep to. Most of them were mothers of two or more who knew the pain behind it all. What was it that gave so much sorrow to Anjali? 1 had never seen her in tears for the past two years. Was it just physical pain? Was it because of feelings of guilt? Mental torture? Craving for parental support? Was she feeling lost.. . ?
I was staring at her, deep in thought, when 1 realized that she smiled suddenly with some effort. "Shakthi.. . sorry dear! 1 knows... it’s nothing! 1 didn't mean to cry, you know! Then, how are you doing? How is your project work? Take good rest da... you look equally sick!"
Now tears came rolling down, but 1 checked them soon. "Yes, Anju! Everything will be fine soon. We will go back!"
"I feel like seeing Sanjana!"
"Ok... I’ll bring her next time. It's just that, Hari says that she's more prone to infections from the hospital.
She gave me an expression of approval.
I came out and called up Hari’s mobile. He told me not to worry, as the fetal contents will be expelled out by Tuesday at the earliest. He asked me to meet him on Monday evening. 1 went back to Anjali, told her the news and walked out of the hospital after an hour's chat with her, quite relieved that the ordeal was going to be over soon.. .
Twenty three
Saturday
10.45 p.m.
That night again, I was greatly perturbed. The fact that Hari had given me some comforting news didn't seem to relieve me. I couldn't bear to see Anjali crying before me, every time I closed my eyes. I was in conflict with my own thoughts. An instinct with me, for quite some days, kept telling me that I was proceeding in a dangerous path. I could hear questions within me. 'Who is Anjali?' My life-companion. 'Who is the society?' my relatives .. .my friends.. .my neighbors! Who are they for me? Could I go through with this, fearing the reactions of the society? Am I living for myself or for the sake of the society? Can I allow her to suffer like this because of my selfish apprehensions? Isn't it the unity of hearts- the real meaning of marital bonds? Hasn't it evolved like that? Wasn't the event of marriage just a way of proclaiming it to the society? Does it give a license for something? Isn't it cruel on my part to destroy something, at the same time, allowing someone I love- to suffer at the hands of fate, in silence.
I couldn't deceive my pricking instincts. My conflicts gnawed at my troubled heart. I laid awake most of the time, staring at the ceiling fan and the face of the clock on the wall. At some moments… I felt my eyes fill and the tears running down my ear, till it drained down my neck.
Did I really not want this baby at this time? Now that it had started growing despite my efforts, why am I. .. why the hell, was I not willing to let it live? What wrong had Anjali done to suffer like this? Had this turned out to be a tussle between Anjali, me and that unborn clueless human . fragment gasping for breath inside her? Or was I fighting the taboos against 'killing'? But then, was I not trying to destroy a part of me- an extension of my own self? That too- when my Anju is in such pain? Has it turned out to be something like I have defied 'nature'? Who was going to reap the consequences for the sin? Was it a sin? Who was going to be the sufferer then? Suffering???...
It didn't end that night.
Twenty four
August 18th
Monday 6.36 p.m.
I had met Anjali in the morning and she had said she felt a bit better. She, certainly, didn't look a bit better anyway and there were no signs of fetal expulsion. She was delighted to see Sanjana again. It was an emotional sight altogether.
Now, I was seated outside Hari's room waiting for his arrival. When he at last came, he looked badly out of shape and exhausted, more like having been run over by a truck, but his greeting proved his usual cheerful self. I hadn't touched the 'Hospital' since the day he had given it to me, and was wondering what to tell him, if he happened to ask. Luckily he didn't get on to that topic. He poured out some coffee from a flask into two cups Sanjana had got used to being with Mrs. Kapoor in her flat and I had come alone. The coffee was not very hot and we finished it soon silently.
"Shakthi, Anjali has been transferred again to the MTP wards, you know?"
He didn't stop to look at me for an answer.
"She is, at present, on drip and we are watching her closely. She has grown really weak ya. After the procedure is over, make sure she eats well for a couple of years or so. The girls of today... you know, are getting paranoid about this 'slim thing'! . .. .
I acknowledged his advice, giving him a nod. I knew that the quote for the future was essentially made to indirectly ensure me of Anjali's health at present.
"Usually, after the intra-amniotic saline, the uterus acts and expels it without delay. We were expecting it to happen by today afternoon. Somehow for the past two days, her uterus has shown no signs of contracting..." I wiped the sweat drop, which was threatening to plunge down to the floor, from my forehead.
As I understood the condition did not sound too good, I stared into his eyes, expecting something more...
"So, Shakthi... we have started her on a Syntocinon IV drip, and dextrose. See...a laminaria tent has also been introduced." "What is Syntocinon for?" "It stimulates the uterus to contract. She also is getting antibiotics to fight any kind of infections..." Somehow, I had a distaste for this medical jargon. But, when I can't get the meaning of something, I feel restless and forced to ask someone. Dr. Hari, unusually, seemed to take great pleasure in explaining these things to me.
"Should I tell her mother and ask her to come about. ..er...anything serious, I mean! Be frank, Hari!" "It's a personal decision, Shakthi! Yes, if you ask me, it's a 'yes'! It will be better if she can share her feelings with her mum. A parent by the side, at the time of pain, does make quite a lot of difference. And, yeah, regarding her condition, 1 am hundred percent confident that she will come out of this, safe and sound. And that day is not too long… "
I gave him Anjali' smother's contact number incase of an emergency, before bidding goodbye to him.
My mind staggered as 1 walked out of his room. And along with It, followed my feet and 1 slipped, tripping on a pot.
Someone helped me up and I continued walking unmindful of the pain in my knee, and my callous attitude of not thanking him. . . .
Twenty five
August 20th
Wednesday 4.55 p.m.
For more than a day and a half, Anjali was in the Abortion section in a futile wait for the uterus to disgorge its contents. 1 had been visiting her regularly and she seemed to have lost weight further.
"1 don’t understand..." said Hari, when 1 met him then in the post-partum ward.”Her uterus doesn't seem to be reacting at all.. .its confusing, Shakthi!" "What?" "Yes, today afternoon, we removed the laminaria tent. We then tried the intra-amniotic saline again. Nothing is responding. She's being loaded with injections... penicillin, calmpose, syntocinon. Even this afternoon, the chief ordered for one more shot of synctocinon! 1 just cant understand what is happening..?" "What does the chief say?" I knew my voice was now grim.
"She has advised dilatation. I think tomorrow morning. I think tomorrow morning she will herself do the procedure." "Once again...!" "No, Shakthi... this time with metal dilators. . . "
My voice rose unexpectedly, and I shouted, standing in the center of the ward.
"Is Anjali at risk, Hari? I need her to be safe, you know! Everything else is secondary to that. I love her, Hari! I cant imagine anything without her. I want Anjali. Listen, I want her, as she is! Tell me, Hari! Ask them to stop everything. Tell them... for heaven's sake, ask them to stop everything! I am taking her home. Baby or no baby...marriage or no marriage, I want my Anjali with me!" I couldn't continue as my voice choked.
Hari expected this least but he remained calm, staring down deep into my eyes.
"Cool down, Shakthi. Listen... that's not possible now. We can't stop the procedure as and when we like. See, you know well that we have injected her with the saline. If we allow the fetus to develop, it could prove fatal to her..."
. "Well, what should we do then", I begged, slapping my forehead gently.
"See Shakthi! You are taking it all too hard.
Its not critical or life-threatening now- it’s just that all that's happening is a bit unexpected. The situation can still be managed. Cheer up and be brave now. With God's grace she will be fine soon. ' "What were you talking about that metal something?" I asked, sounding still unconvinced.
"Yes, metal dilators. She will be given calmpose and put on a syntocinon drip soon after. This little fetus is creating some strange problems. I wonder whether it doesn't want to come out!", he smiled, trying to ease the situation...
The moment he said that, it was almost a bang on my head. Again, for the umpteenth time in one week, the feeling of inadequacy crept into me! Had I put my feet into a whirlpool of endless trouble, without knowing its depth? I felt weak. Was I powerless before this minute speck of life? But then, wasn't life the same whether in a one-week embryo or in a hundred kilo giant? The story that they used to tell me in my childhood- about how an ant got into an elephant's ear and killed it- came to my mind, just like that. Could it be possible? Should I ask someone about it? Was I being defeated by this uterine troublemaker? Was I being humiliated? Should I surrender? What would be a wise decision? Ok, enough is enough, I decided. I made up my mind to call up Anjali's mother and explain her everything, if everything was not all right by tomorrow evening.
"Doctor!.. . Doctor, that PIH patient in labor is getting fit like symptoms", cried a voice suddenly. Hari's pager rang simultaneously, cutting me off my reverie.
"Hey Shakthi, I will meet you again. You don't worry!", he rushed off, running behind the nurse, who came to call him. . .
Twenty sixWednesday 5.40 p.m.
When I went back to Anjali, the sun was down. She was half lying with a rather blank expression on her, her eyes closed. 1 took her case sheet, which was clipped to the pad at the foot-end of the bed and tried going through it. As my friend had cleared many of my doubts, 1 could get a general idea, but there still were many acronyms, abbreviations and terms, which 1 couldn't follow. What did 1 gain by knowing all this, 1 asked myself.
Only more stress and strain to my mind! Maybe it was because of-my unfulfilled dream of becoming a doctor in my school days, 1 thought. It was useless now thinking of that. I should leave all this stuffto the doctors. One day, Hari could even get vexed with me, if I kept pestering him for minute details and complex questions.
Hearing something, Anjali opened her eyes.
She gave a faint smile. "Are you looking after yourselves properly?" she asked all of a sudden.
"Why not?" I said putting the case sheet down. " I m quite alright. Sanju is doing well too, except that she is very keen to know what is happening here. Now, you don't bother yourself with all that. You eat properly and stay calm... everything will go off well." '.
Anjali turned on the bed with some effort wincing at every movement she made.
"Shakthi, did you hear what the doctors said.
I have problems. . ." "Yes, 1 heard it. They're doing the metal dilation tomorrow. That's what Hari told me. It's not something serious, Anju! It will be ok soon." "I'm aching all over da", she said, "when will I be able to go home, when can I complete my projects, when can I attend college ... when can I be normal!
Shakthi, when can I be myself?" The sight of her touched me. She looked haggard- her hair uncombed, face oily, cheeks hollow and eyes sunken. Yet, she looked beautiful. 1 wondered how.
"Take it easy, Anju. Please, for my sake, at least eat something", 1 told her. "Shall 1 bring you something from the dispenser?" "No.", she said quietly. "I can’t eat anything. Understand me, 1 don't have an appetite!" She was interrupted by the harsh bell.
"Try thinking about something else, say something, good..." 1 told her, getting up.”The more you keep on thinking about your condition; it’s bound to look really horrible. You'll get nowhere. Remember, I am always there for you." She remained silent for a second or so... as if she was trying to get something out of her mouth. Then it happened. She gave out a faint hollow laugh and looked straight into my eyes.
"I love you, Shakthi! I love you more than anything else! Who else, in my life? You are for me dear!" I couldn't stand it anymore. I knelt down and hugged her tightly, taking care not to disturb the drip.
I didn't speak anything. The situation didn't demand words. Everything was being said and understood in that moment of intimacy.
I reached out and kissed her lightly in her earlobe, and whispered, “you will be my same old Anjukkutti soon. Take care, till then....” after that only air came out. Unable to control myself, I got up and started walking, without looking back. I couldn't, to be frank! I felt foolish, affected and inadequate at the same time.
As I crossed the reception hall to the car park, the television screen mounted high up on the wall caught my eyes. A puppet show was being aired for children. It had a strange coincidence, at least for me. . .
Had I turned Anjali into a weak dependent puppet- being controlled by 'drugs' in the place of the 'strings' - in the hands of the doctors? Or was 'fate' playing a double role of the strings and the controller? I really didn't know...
Twenty seven
Wednesday 6.37 p.m.Mr. Rahul met me as I was driving out of the hospital. He looked leaner by two kilos to the minimum. He was sporting an awkward beard, which further made it difficult for me to recognize him.
"Shakthi...! Hey, Shakthi?" I brought my car to a screeching halt, much to the concern of the onlookers. I reverse-geared and drove back.
"Hello, Rahul! Where have you been? I didn't see you here quite a long time", I said, half opening my car's glass window.
"I was outstation for a week. To a conference.By the way, how is your would-be? I thought you would all have be in your college by now!"
"She's not doing very well.. ." I told him, raising the windowpane fully. "The fetus is very obstinate, they say! She also had infections in the beginning.
Tomorrow they will be doing a method to make her abort!"
"Isn't it almost a week since we met", he asked.
I nodded.
"It’s ok. Everything will go off well. You take care. And tell Anjali that I asked about her!"
"Sure!" I didn't know what to talk to him. I had no mind to ask him about his tour. But I remembered to ask about his wife, for I hadn't seen her for quite a while.
"She had been transferred to the special ward, Shakthi! If she doesn't get her pains by day-after tomorrow, they would go for a caesarian, they say!" My lips, with little aid from my voice box, offered him some encouraging words, before I drove back home, bidding him good-bye...
Twenty eight
August 21st
Thursday 5.15 p.m.
My eyes were sunken quite prominently because of lack of sleep for successive nights. I had to drag my feet to the hospital. When I saw Anjali in the ward, she was irresponsive, in a drowsy state... looking more haggard and pitiful. I rushed to meet Hari. He looked rather dejected. Surprisingly, he didn't talk much to me, and took me with him to the fifth floor. Every step, I climbed increase my terror. His silence was even more terrifying.
We entered the chief s room.
"Good morning, Madam", he said." This is Mr. Shakthi, my old friend, I told you!" I halfheartedly smiled and shook hands with her. She signaled to us to take our seats. Hari sat next to me, making his best effort to look normal.
"The dilatation was over just an hour back and the patient is under the influence of morphine", the chief said.
I stared at her, sharpening my ears further.
"Hari told everything to me, Mr. Shakthi!
We are quite baffled at this case. We can't even believe what we are seeing. But that's what it is... there were a little bleeding, and the dilatation... ", she stopped to look at Hari.
My Adam's apple was bulging every three seconds, as I was making a conscious effort to swallow something frequently.
"Yes, Shakthi! I don't know how to put this to you, but the dilatation wasn't very successful, to be frank!
I couldn't bear to hear this. "What can we do Doctor?” I brought words to my mouth with great difficulty.
"We are planning to do the abdominal hysterotomy as the last resort. It'll certainly do some good.. ."
I turned to Hari, expecting him to put it in plain words.
He came to my rescue promptly. "It's a sort of miniature caesarean section, Shakthi... a kind of opening the abdomen... operating inside to remove the contents, and then, there won't be any more problem..." I felt a great weight pulling me down and it seemed as if the force had increased more than hundred -fold. I fought it with great difficulty. Was this all a matter of avoiding problems alone! Wasn't there any positive attempt to improve a patient's well being? Was Anjali enough to endure a section operation? No, it's no use blaming them! It’s me....its me ... the cause. Something taken for granted had turned out to be such a disaster. . .
"Must be a safe procedure, doctor?" I asked
"Quite safe, Mr. Shakthi. Only less than one in thousand risk of operative death and half a percent chance of post-op infections... everything can be taken care by antibiotics. But..." There was an eerie silence in the air for a second.
"Yeah . . . there is something you need to know, Mr. Shakthi", she continued while she turned her gaze at Hari.
"What's it... doctor?" She hesitated to start with. "See Mr. Shakthi, you have to understand. If it doesn't work out. .. By that I mean, if by any chance, we are not able to successfully do the terminate the pregnancy, which is highly unlikely, we would have to go for removing the uterus. It would be only kept as an emergency measure. We won’t go for a hysterectomy unless we are left with no other way out. And legally, you have to give us consent for the procedure.
Actually you, or more safely, her parents, have to sign the papers".
I felt suddenly giddy. A wave of heat passed through me. What? Did I hear you right? Removal of uterus? Was this going to be a challenge to my integrity?
"N o!", I said rather loudly to her. And my voice was now taking a steep takeoff. "No sterilization! She is too young, doctor. We have a life to live... to live with all its pleasures, ahead of us. She can't bear it, mam. I want her to come out of this, fit - by saying fit, I mean, fit enough to bear a dozen more children! Yes you get this straight from me?" I was breathing quite heavily now.
"Well, Mr. Shakthi... you have to calm down and get our stand clear. Try to understand the situation without getting too emotional. The situation, in which we are now, is not worth all these! Look at the whole thing in our point of view we don't do hysterectomies just like that, for every other minor complications. .. We give due respects to the feelings of the couple. If that's the only solution, we can't allow her to die, trying to preserve the uterus. We are not saying the op. is for that! We just want to keep the papers clear... ", the chief sounded calm and clear. I nodded half-heartedly, trying to digest the situation. Hari grasped my palm underneath the table and squeezed it tightly.
"Don’t worry, Shakthi! I know. .. I can assure you, it won’t happen. Hundred percent it wont happen. We are pretty confident about that. It’s just that we are telling you in advance..."
I tried to force myself to believe him. . .
Twenty nine
Thursday 7.20 p.m.
I was staring at the bluish gray sky, seated on a wooden bench by the lakeside, with a distant storm behind me, threatening to surface. The lunar reflection on the water was getting shaken now and then, when drops of dew from the tips of the branches found their way down into the mass of water. I knew I was in a tight situation. I knew I had to make a decision about informing somebody. .. But 'whom'? The 'whom' in the question made it unanswerable.
Somewhere within me, I vaguely sensed something frightful, really awful in the future! My instincts developed a way of getting in constant conflicts with my self. I looked up to the trees. A huge bird came cruising down to one of the branches nearby, and perched itself next to a smaller one. The baby bird opened its mouth, and took a piece of a worm from the beak of the big one- probably its parent. I looked away instantaneously. The lake seemed to suck me down, inside its deep waters. My nerves all worked up, I came home and fell heavily on the bed in sheer desperation.
Sanjana stared at me, surprised and shocked. She had to comfort me now. In another half an hour, I wired to Anjali's mother that her daughter was sick. She was quite into sobs, when I asked her to come immediately. Then I tried calling up dad's mobile, but strangely, it was not responding. Changing my mind in that critical three minutes, I suddenly decided against it and returned home.
Having made the phone call, I felt a lot better. But never near to feeling 'brave'! I kept talking with Sanju for a long time. After she slept, I fell chest down on my bed, took out the photo of Anjali from my purse. I think I kissed it for a long time. I remember that night, as fresh as it could be, when I kept staring at the photograph till my eyelids closed against their will. . .
Thirty
August 23rd
Saturday 9.22 a.m.
I was talking with Hari over the phone when the doorbell rang. He was telling me that the surgery was scheduled for the day at one-thirty in the afternoon. I hung up and answered the bell. It was Anjali's mom, who was accompanied by the brother of the old woman. She appeared visibly tired, drained and exhausted.
"What happened Shakthi? What happened to Anju?"
I asked her to sit down, giving out a loud call to Sanjana who was inside her room.
"Shakthi, where is my child?", the woman asked again, this time her tone unearthly from panic.
"What's happened to my Anjali?" I didn't know how to comfort her, before breaking the news. Sanjana came running down and hugged her mother.
"First of all, relax Lakshmi! Shakthi looks already upset. Don't trouble him like this. He'll tell us soon", the woman's brother said.
I brought them some water and sat with them on the sofa. After a deep breath, I looked into her eyes and explained the whole situation- bottom to top. Her expression didn't change abruptly, as I expected when I told her the things, which had happened during the course of the week.
But she burst out soon... after a minute of silence.
"Who asked you to agree for the abortion?", she screamed in a fit of anger and frustration. She recovered soon enough and stared at me deeply. I'm sorry, Shakthi. I didn't mean to sound hurting... not the least, in such a situation. I know you will be in such pain. Well… it's just that I cant understand why you two didn't even consider us for an opinion. I cant digest the fact that you turned your back to us... don't you think you had to inform me before?" I looked down at the floor.
"I know Anjali might have had a part in this situation and the decision, but I just can't imagine Shakthi!
Couldn't you have had us a word about it? Mistakes do happen in life, but..? Oh, my poor child? How she must be suffering? .
She broke down, unable to continue further. I wanted to say something... but I didn't want to use this time to convince her about the apparent safety and simplicity of properly planned, performed abortions and the unexpected turn of events in Anjali' s case. I wanted to put forward my point of view as my defense, but wisely decided against it. She was already in a state of distrust and mental pain, and I knew she was not in a position to hear my words. We left at once to the hospital, along with Sanjana, who knew the least about what was happening...
Thirty one
Saturday 11.15 a.m.
Since I knew the hospital, nook and comer by now, it was not a difficult job to trace Hari, even at such a rush hour. He didn't look too enthusiastic somehow. He accompanied us to see Anjali in the pre-op preparation room. She was not receptive, as she had been given doses of sedatives. Her mother nearly swooned at the sight of her daughter, stared at me and again broke into tears, leaning against the bed.
"No, madam. You'll upset the other patients too. She is just now put on pethidine and you know, it will get worse, if she is constantly woken up. Please make sure you don't unknowingly do any harm", interrupted Hari, sounding as understanding and polite as possible. Still from his voice, I could get that he was not in a very good mood this morning. I didn't mind his blue mood. Rather I was more concerned about its origin.
With some difficulty, the old woman controlled her words and moved with me to the corridor.
Her woebegone face was making a deep impact on my men~al strength. Her deep stare seemed to kill me every passing second. I badly wanted her to say something to me, to talk to me- at least 'curse' me! But, she kept killing me cruelly with her penetrating look, and a merciless deadly silence. It was her way of punishing me. What was god's way... I wondered!
Thirty two
Saturday 1.20 p.m.
We were standing outside when Anjali was wheeled away in a trolley to the operation theatre. She was really weird and soulless, draped in white from chest to toe.
"Oh! I want to perform a puja in her name!", her mother moaned. She stopped Hari midway and gave him a packet, “apply this 'vibuthi' on her forehead doctor!" He nodded sincerely and entered the theatre.
It was something that I had never experienced before. I could feel the taste of a teardrop on my tongue tip.
In my troubled state, I was completely involved in piety. .. I had left everything to God. No more atheistic arguments...
no more disbelief in idol worship... no more denying the existence of heavenly powers beyond us! I rushed to a church nearby and knelt in submission.
When I returned, there were no signs of anybody coming out. Half an hour had passed since Anjali was wheeled in. I had no thirst, no hunger! Anjali’s mother was sitting in a cha1r, her face facing the ceiling and her eyes closed. It was difficult to make out whether she was asleep or not. I remained outside, occasionally staring through the square glass pane, trying to get a glimpse of the happenings inside. My mouth was chanting prayers to the Lord, like a pre-programmed robot. It was at this moment the door swung open and someone came out. I rushed to find out something. In his mask, cap and surgical apron, I couldn't recognize Hari, as it was he indeed. He walked ahead of me and removed the cloth covering his nostrils and mouth.
"The operation went off quite well", he told us, but strangely the happiness was not quite evident in his voice. I attributed it to his mood today. "We did it under spinal anesthesia. The next three hours are really crucial. . . but actually there was a bit of undue hemorrhage which we controlled with some efforts. We are putting her now on transfusions…
On the whole, I guess she's doing nearly fine", I was sure I saw a smile slowly descending on to his face.
"Thank you, Hari", I shouted. I couldn't express my feelings in words. It was real relief, in its essence, for me. I ran like a child till I reached the church, and knelt before the altar. Tears came flowing down my cheek. I wanted to scream out something aloud, but I didn't. I knew, the Lord always had plans of his own..
Thirty threeSaturday 4.45 p.m.
I entered the post-operative ward, with Anjali's mother closely following me. Anjali was not fully in her senses still. She was half responsive to our calls. She could roll her head and move her fingers slightly. But, she looked really weak.
Her mom applied 'holy ash' on her forehead again and sighed, "God! Don't let my poor child suffer..." 1 wanted to say so many things to my sweetheart; but she was still under the effect of the post-op painkillers, and kept rolling her head to and fro, mumbling inaudible words all the while. I knew you'd be alright Anjali... 1 knew it before! Nothing could happen to you! You are going to live a hundred years.. .",I whispered in her ears.
There was a profound silence. Her mum kissed her forehead and moved away.
"Come Anjali, we'll go home. We have lots to do da... I want you, you know! I need you for living my life, Anju!" I kept talking.
Her fingers moved an inch to and fro. And then a tap of a single index finger. She made an effort to blink her eyelids. I brought my palm closer. I clutched her hand and held it by my chest. She gave a soft squeeze of my fingers as if to say" Same here, Shakthi!". My heart heard it. .. yes, I knew that my heart heard it, even as my brain told me that my ears didn't!
She gave a faint role of her head towards me and then another firm press of my wrist. Her palm felt unusually hot, but I ignored the heat, for it had for me, a thousand other meanings to comprehend.
I knew that time that she was there for me, until I died. . .
Thirty four
Saturday 9.05 p.m.Fate indeed had plans of its own, for my relief was only short-lived. By seven in the evening, Anjali had developed high fever and she was still irresponsive.
Injections were given at short intervals.
I had been mostly with Hari through out the evening. He had enumerated the medicines that Anjali was receiving. Still, the fever remained unabated. It was getting to my nerves really.
To add to the misery, she showed symptoms of diarrhea and dehydration by eight-thirty p.m. I was baffled. The doctors were trying to explain every other symptom... 'Post-operative fever... hypovolemic shock...drug allergy manifestations... infections...' Who wanted explanations? What will happen to my Anjali if she continued like this? That was my major concern.
The diarrhea was getting severe and uncontrollable. There were intermittent spurts of vomiting and fit like symptoms.
"You can stay with me tonight Shakthi, incase she searches for you sometime", Hari offered. "There are many vacant beds in the house surgeon's room. Even Anjali's mom can get a bed."
I knew it was an indirect announcement that Anjali's condition was indeed critical. I wanted to weep. Anjali's uncle went back to my flat with Sanjana. Her mother was constantly beside her, refusing to budge from that spot, and I was in a dazed state, moving like a clockwork figure between the intern's room and the post-partum ward.
Thirty five
Saturday 11.17p.m.
I was sitting beside Anjali, changing her bedpan occasionally. Her mother had gone to have something to drink. When I removed the thermometer from her mouth, I noticed that her temperature had come down a bit. I kept staring at her. Suddenly, her eyelids seemed to move. I watched closely, as the skin on her forehead wrinkled slightly. And slowly her lips trembled. Her fingers again moved along an imaginary circle in the air. I moved closer to her, bent down to her head and asked, "I'm here Anjali. Nothing is wrong. How are you feeling? She faintly opened her eyes staring at the ceiling. Her lips separated a bit and then they moved. I heard a faint 'Hmmm..'. I was encouraged. "Come on, Anju. You can do it! Wake up...talk... fight it! You can! You should!" She then slowly tilted her head to her left and stared at me. "I will love you forever, Shakthi. I will", she swallowed the remaining words into her throat. Again she made an effort and started to say something. But this time, it was only a hush of air from her mouth. I kissed her. "I want to see my mom...where is...?", she couldn't strain any further, as her lips quivered. "She has gone out for getting water. Wait Anju, I'll call her". I came out, my heart racing like a bullet, out of a hot gun.
When I returned to her bed with the excited woman, Anjali was again unconscious. Amidst the painful silence and the old woman's pleas, I could hear the words of Anjali still echoing in the ward. I made her mom sit down on a chair. I sat beside Anjali and fed her some water with a spoon. She involuntarily vomited after every attempt to feed her...
Thirty six
August 24th
Sunday 1.40 a.m.
I had just then come to the ward from the intern's room. Anjali's mother had dozed off in the chair sitting next to her. Hari had come now and then, every half an hour, to keep a trace on her temperatures and drug levels. I sat starring at the moon through the glass windows.
Everything seemed to be alien to me. There was a painful eerie silence lingering around me. Suddenly, for a fraction of a second, the whole ward felt like a mortuary to me. I pinched myself to ascertain the reality of the happenings. It indeed pained. I could see someone coming towards Anjali's bed. It was Hari. This was the fifth time; he was checking Anjali in the last two hours. It showed a piece of his character- his perseverance. He can't surrender at any time for it was really difficult for him to accept defeat- he couldn't bear to accept it even at the hands of 'fate'. He will fight till he wins against all odds. I knew Anjali was in right hands.
He looked up at me as he tied the recorder band to Anjali's hand. As he waited for the BP and the pulse to get recorded, he took the other wrist in his palms and starting feeling for the pulse manually. When the blood pressure flashed on the digital screen, he turned grim, and shouted in a tense voice, "Damn it!". I knew instantly something was terribly wrong. An incident had to be really significant for such a reaction to come from Hari. Anjali's mom woke up, startled by his scream.
A couple of nurses came running to the bedside. Everything was happening in a flash of an eyelid.
The old woman and I stood aside, our hearts going astray in a wild fashion, as someone introduced a needle into Anjali's vein and connected it to a bottle of fluids. Another person injected a fluorescent fluid into that bottle. She was heavily perspiring from head to toe. Suddenly I noticed a twitch of the muscles of her left arm. I signaled it to hari, but he was busy getting the manual BP apparatus.
"Blood pressure is shooting down vigorously, call the chief ASAP", he said as he connected it.
"Her left arm seems to convulse slightly, Hari!", I shouted.
He noticed it, but didn't seem to give it any special attention. He injected another drug into the drip slowly and got in another one in her left shoulder intramuscularly. The seeming convulsions disappeared. Hari was busy, trying to figure out something as I interrupted.
"Shall I do something?", I asked rather guilty of standing like a statue.
He didn't reply. He was busy, fighting the blood pressure within Anjali.
"The chief will be here in another five minutes, doctor", said a nurse, who had come running down the stairs.
Hari turned visibly enraged at this, but controlled himself. He started rubbing Anjali's feet at regular intervals.
"Can I help in something, please!", I asked rather loudly this time, my feelings of guilt and inadequacy reaching very high levels. Anjali's mother was standing beside me, probably in prayer, for her eyes were closed.
"Yes Shakthi! Go to the pharmacy downstairs and get this drug immediately. The staff are in shortage today", he said.
Inside the lift, I couldn't see the floor numbers. My vision was blurred. I was totally disoriented. I had no idea what day it was... what month it was... or where I was?
In the ground floor, on my way to the pharmacy I bumped into Mr. Rahul. I had no plans of getting into a conversation with him. "Angeline has started getting her pains, Shakthi!", he said, holding my shoulders with his palm. I stopped and blinked a second, unsure of how to react. "But, there is some unknown delay, you know! They say they'll do the caesarian in the early morning...
Anjali is really sick, Rahul! I have to go urgently now. . . ", I screamed, as I tried to free myself from his hold.
He let go off me instinctively and I hurried to the stores before he could grasp the gravity of the situation.
He must have been taken by surprise by my sudden reaction. But then, I had my own problems, and so I hurried up the stairs with the packet. Once in the stairs, I wondered why I didn't use the elevator...
Thirty sevenSunday 3.15 a.m.
Anjali's condition was becoming worse, every passing second. At least that was what I was told.
Hari was truly fighting it out. The chief doctor was checking her heartbeat and respiratory rate. ‘She might have had a transfusion reaction, but not sure… we have stopped it n sent the blood for cross-match’, I was told.
I hadn't lost hope even an inch, at this moment. I could see Anjali trying hard to breathe; I knew she won't give it up that easily. I clenched her palm, pressing it at irregular intervals.
"Her heart is progressively failing. Her breathing is also shallow... quick!
Connect her to the respirator", the lady doctor screamed to the head-nurse.
They brought a complicated machine with tentacle like cylindrical tubes and kept Anjali propped up in bed, with an oxygen tube passed through her nostril. After a few minutes, they replaced it with a mask.
The resident cardiologist was busy making the decision, "I think the specialist consultant from higher centre has to be called for. ..", he cried out at last.
A medical man was brought in from a famous hospital in another ten minutes. Immediately another EKG was recorded. The man examined it and instantaneously brought a dissatisfied expression to his face.
Anjali's mother and I stood at the head end of the bed and gasped sorrowfully at them, as they rattled off terms like 'low end-diastolic volume... subnormal pulse pressure... sudden shift to hypotension... compensatory tachycardia. .. seems like endotoxic shock. . .crossmatchin is perfect!". They gave her morphine again for she manifested a constant wincing effort. And as a result, her occasional mumbling stopped.
Dr. Hari said that they were trying their best.
"We are still fighting hard, and you know, a fight is always aimed at success. We are giving her all vital supports and every medication indicated- steroids, mephentin and IV fluids..."
Hope was the only thing that was keeping me alive that stressful moment.
Thirty eightSunday 4.41 a.m.Hari hadn't closed his eyes till now. He hadn't moved an inch from his position. He was constantly bending over Anjali, doing one thing or the other. Anjali's mother hadn't spoken a word to me since last evening, and just stood there like some lifeless soul, mumbling inaudible prayers, which died within her mouth. Throughout the night, Anjali was having difficulty breathing. But now, she could hardly respire. She was wet all over and her hands were cold. Hari was checking the oxygen dissociation levels, when suddenly she vomited twice and collapsed.
The chief doctor carne rushing in, and again cut her vein to introduce something. Anjali soon turned white and then a bit bluish. I could feel my heart pounding against my chest.
Has Anjali 's heart-beat been transferred to mine, I wondered!
The EKG on the screen was going wary. The chief promptly ordered an increase in oxygen percentage.
Anjali looked no more human- just a wretch gasping for breath. She held me by one hand, and her mother by the other with great effort, as she continued gasping. We stood pale and helpless. "Doctor... !", screamed the woman, as Anjali's persevering gasping stopped, and she gripped harder at my hand. Her chest was lifting up on its own, abnormally. Her lips trembled and her nostrils flared. She drew in a rare deep breath, every now and then. Hari sensed the situation and made some manipulations in the oxygen delivery system. He gently slapped Anjali every ten seconds and started talking to her,… “ come on, hold on.. Yeah, a bit more. You can do this.. tell me now… Whats your name? Can u hear me? Whats your name? Can you sense my voice? What’s ….? Anjali was just staring at he ceiling and remained silent. Her grasp was getting harder. The interval between her breaths was getting too long…
Below my chest, I could feel a tight knot of pain. We were waiting for the next breath, but it never seemed to come. I felt her grip loosen by the second. Her mouth just opened wide, as Hari started pounding on her chest, with his fist. I felt like he was pounding on me… each box on her chest feel heavily on my heart… thud… thud… hell, it pained like never before! He breathed into her mouth, alternating with the chest compressions, it went on… then, on one particular fateful breath forced in, her hand fell on the bed, loosening its grip fully. Electrical impulses were given on her chest in a frantic desperate attempt to revive the heart. Her mouth was half open- it didn’t move… Hari kept on pounding, but only for a few critical minutes. Then he stopped and I saw the chief shine a torch into Anjali’s eyes. She took her wrist as I stared at the monitor screen with eyes glued on the EKG line… It was running flat.. almost a straight line. Hari gave me a vacant look, as he continued pounding on Anjali’s chest like crazy, unable to stop himself. I could feel Anjali's sweat drops still in my palms..., but there were no more grips... no more bonds... Only a quite tranquility. . .
Thirty nine
Sunday 5.05 a.m.Right in front of me, on the hospital bed, lay my Anjali, like a ragged doll-lifeless, the white of her eyes exposed. There were no creases on her face. .. nor there was any twitch of the angles of her mouth. .. Only a deadly calmness! Suddenly I heard it! Yes, I heard a child cry in the ward. I looked around. No child caught my eyes. Then it happened! There was a loud infantine laughter echoing around the room. Was it my imagination? But, I could hear the mocking laughter tearing at my eardrums and reverberating within me. I knelt in submission. My unborn baby- you were more powerful in your death than the wonders of science!
I stared up at the shining hub of the ceiling, the fan rotating above. .. the whole scene was repeated there and also flashed in pieces on my retina, in a miniature reflection- the bed with my dead lifeless Anjali and the live corpses all around- myself, an old woman in a swoon and a shocked, disappointed doctor.
Mr. Rahul rushed into the room, in all smiles and jubilations and shouted impatiently and emphatically at me, "Shakthi... it's a girl! I have become a dad, you know! Come on, lets have a...!" he suddenly stopped, stared at the bed, turned pale at what he saw and came close to me...
I didn't know much of what happened after that. When I slowly carne back to an awareness of the surroundings, faint voices were discussing outside the doctor's room, "...I can't believe this! Yeah, must be shock… endotoxic? Infection? Circulatory failure…but then, why?" I didn't want all that now. I had no doubts anymore. They all knew only how it happened. But I knew why all this happened? ... it was me! It was because of me, that it all happened! The secret was there in my heart of hearts. Hari told me that Anjali's mother had become hysterical and uncontrollable and had cursed all the doctors, the entire hospital staff, and pointed at me and screamed" Murdererrrr!!!"
EPILOGUE August 24th
Sunday 6.20 a.m.I was still staring blankly at some distant object, as Hari forced me into his spare room in the twenty third floor. He felt my pulse and recorded my blood pressure. After giving me an injection, he poured out some tea and sat next to me, with a hand round my shoulders.
"Sometimes, things don't happen the way we want them to be, Shakthi! I do understand what this will mean for you. But, there are matters which are taken out of our hands, you know... beyond our reach, beyond our perception, beyond our control. . ." I was still staring at something I couldn't recognize.
"Don't lose heart, Shakthi! Life will move on... and you have to face it..." Life will move on, but can I? Will mine move on? I heard a voice inside me.
"Let's think about how to proceed from now.
I have informed Anjali's uncle and had asked him to call up your parents. Be brave... I will talk to them. I’ll arrange for any help you need. We have to remove the body. . . err . . . we have to take her from here. We can arrange for the mortuary van here.. .", he choked and wiped a tear dropwhich had unexpectedly surfaced on his face. But, he continued.
"I am so sorry Shakthi,. .. that I have to say such awful things to you now. But what's the alternative?
For me, it's just more than the loss of a patient... more than the loss of a loving friend! We had all been so close together... till yesterday, I thought. I would wave to you, as I see you both walking out of here " At this, I broke into loud sobs and rested my forehead on his shoulders, "I killed Anjali. .. I am the murderer- the guilty!"
" No, you didn't! Not you for sure!"
"Yeah, it was me- the murderer! ... punish me! Come on... punish me!"
"What? What are you talking? Its ok, now… cool down and relax! It was just plain fate!"
"Damn good fate. . .! It was I. I don't deserve to live.. .not even deserve to exist! Hari,... I don't have the right to be... No, I don't..." I, impulse fully, broke free from him and started running towards the tall glass windows, which were to the extreme left of me. I heard Hari behind me, calling out madly. I think he guessed my motives instantly. I had no other thing in my mind... except for my guilt. Feeling possessed by something, I threw myself out of the window.
I felt someone grasp frantically at me. I looked up and then down. I was suspended in mid-air, some one holding at the shoulder end of my shirt. My eyesight dimmed as everything blurred out gradually. As I was about to see darkness, my head started spinning. At this micro moment, the sound of cloth tearing started entering into my ears.
Someone else tried grasping at my collar. .. At this, I fainted. The last thing I remember coming to my mind was I did have a right to die, ... didn't 1?
***************************************
Author's note
Why this novelette? Well, I wanted to write this as my maiden attempt at novels for many reasons...
Primarily, I had always wanted to do a medical novel, with lots of emotions and sentiments thrown in. And this storyboard proved to be the apt choice for getting the desired effect. Right from the day I started reading novels ten years back, I had noticed most of the medical fiction were invariably based on crime, illegal research or the 'psycho' inspired! A real, more down to earth medical story, which every one of us can relate to, was indeed very rare. A sentimental fiction drama, based on a single person's fight to survive, was what I aimed at!. This, in addition to being frighteningly real, provided me an opportunity to show the last few hours before a person's death.
Secondly, I was greatly shocked when I browsed through the statistics, which show a steep rise in the number of abortions, most of these illegal, performed every year. I also felt that the concept of abortion has been grossly misunderstood in the society. This, I feel can be partially attributed to the sexual 'taboo', which exists in our country in particular. The idea that it is just a four hour affair prevails among the general public, especially in the developing nations. How many of us know that nearly three women in every hundred abortions performed develop some complications or other! Here, it becomes my duty to make clear the fact that MTPs are indeed perfectly safe, if gone about in a well-planned, professional way. But then can it prove to be an escapist route- an excuse for sheer immorality? Doesn't it make humanity look really animalistic? This question was in the comer of my mind, as I created the storyline.
I also wanted to touch upon the highly controversial question of whether a human being has the right to destroy a speck of life, which had already formed.
Lots of things... lots of arguments have been put forward about it. Lots of literatures have been published about it. But still, the question remains unanswered, as the feud between science and ethical art still remains unsolved. I, purposefully, wanted to go about this issue, analyzing it philosophically, getting out from the shoes of a medical student.
Then, I desired to project the 'cat on the wall' attitude of the Indian youth in the west. It is particularly significant in our times, as nearly forty percent of young professionals in the United States are Indians. I feel, the Indian youngster abroad, is caught between the two cultures, unsure of what to adapt to. He develops panache for the 'way of life' there. At the same time, he hesitates at every step, and he is unable to take a firm decision. This is because, the desi culture, which has been imbibed deep into him, doesn't allow for much of flexibility. He is stranded between the two, at times proving to be dangerous. The characters of Shakthi and Anjali are perfect examples of this. They both had the courage to go about 'sex' the American way, but then, did they have it in them, to go about 'marriage' and 'social recognition' the same way? Particularly, Shakthi knew he had to go back to face his parents and the society from which he hails. And so he chose to take the easier route- 'covering up the mistake' - the Indian way. 'Culture chock', to put in two words!
Next, I wanted to emphasize on the capricious nature of 'medical science', given the giant leaps in technology and diagnostic methods in the last two decades. Who would want... Who would expect- a twenty four year old girl- beautiful, charming, brilliant, confident, independent, dreaming of a wonderful career ahead of her, engaged and about to start her marital life in another six months- to die? That too... when she is admitted for a relatively simple procedure like MTP! That too, when the doctor is so positive about her health till the tenth day of her admission! How can you explain the occurrence of serious complications in one of each hundred patients undergoing abdominal hysterotomy! How would you explain the failure of suction evacuation and dilatation techniques after Syncotinon administration and the introduction of a laminaria tent?! That's medicine. . .that is medical science for you... and that will be medicine science for you, even after a century, for we have to admit that there is something superior to 'science' - more powerful! Call it 'God', if you are a theist. Call it 'fate', if you are an atheist. Call it plainly doctor's inadequacy, if you are a 'cynic'! Why should this happen to Anjali? Only that power can answer this.
Then, I needed to extend an indirect subtle warning on the concept of 'communication gap', which had crept into the average Indian family, exceptions apart. I also wanted to 'hit the nail on the head' on this 'generation gap' thing! Shakthi wasn't even ready to tell the situation to his own parents, fearing their reactions. He says that they won't understand. This means that he thought that they were incapable of guiding him. Shakthi- a model 'allrounder' - bright, smart, futuristic and victorious. Does that mean his parents were indeed successful in their duty of making him a 'successful' man? No; if you ask me, it's a big big 'No'. Yes, they were successful in bringing him up as a perfect student; but then, ... were they successful in infusing faith in him that they could be depended upon, they could be sought f(or- be it any situation'? Did they succeed in making him believe that they will try to understand his 'point of view' of things'? Did they sit and talk to him about his problems, after he completed his teenage? They thought he was 'independent'! but then, was he? The whole disaster could have been avoided, if only had Shakthi asked his parents for an opinion! What prevented him from confiding to his dear parents? Where exactly did his parents fail? Many families face this threatening question today... and this prompted me to weave the storyline, to strike the alarrnbell.
If you had noticed well, I had given 'instinct' a character status in the novel. ‘In the absence of certainty, instinct is all that you can follow’, says Jonathan Caines. How much importance do we give to our instincts? How many of us have the power to read our omens?
Omens? The individual language, the power above us talks to you. They are this strange, but very personalized language, that guides you towards your own destiny. They are not logical… nor are they explainable, they talk to your heart directly…If we look closely, the answer for most of our problems lies in our instincts. Like in this story, Shakthi constantly had a eerie instinct that something was going to be terrifying wrong, right from the beginning. Ifhe had given due importance to it, a major catastrophe could have been prevented. Was it some kind of warning from God?
Nobody knows! I introduced the 'instinct' element in the story chiefly to build up the suspense till the end.
Now for some of the interesting details of how the characters came alive…
When the story had been finalized, I spent considerable time in deciding how to go about writing it. I had two options- to tell the story from a third person's view point or to get myself into one of the roles, so that everything is told from that role's viewpoint. I decided to use the latter strategy primarily it was my favorite. Thus emerged the character of Shakthi, as myself… but then, I had to write it as if it is being said by a non-medico. That’s why knowingly; the details about medical decisions, procedures and complications have been kept quite hazy. And so if you r a medico, and you r looking for academic accuracy, forgive me if you find fault. That’s not what this novel aims at. And now that’s the truth. No lay men can tell the exact medical cause, why his dear one died… that’s how the hospitals keep it… especially, in the private set-up.
Then for the female lead, every little detail of her personality was in my mind. Yeah, you can say that she, in a way, represented my expectations of a dream girl. But, I struggled at getting a name for her. Dissatisfied with hundreds of names, over a period of one week, I was driven to the point of frustration. I needed a Indianized version of a modern name. .. there were many options for me in that category. But the second condition posed a major problem.
It had to have a native tinge, be very much tamilian and had to have some flavor of her character. Finally I hit upon the name rather serendipitously, while watching a song from the movie 'Duet'! Once the name was fixed, the character of Anjali metamorphosed better than what I had in mind.
When the backdrop of the novel is a hospital, the doctor in it, will have a vital role to play, more often than not. The character of Hari, in a way, had some resemblance to my maternal uncle. Yeah, you can say, in many ways, my inspiration! I had a liking for this type of a personality, right from my childhood days. Since it was imprinted on my mind, it shaped out effortlessly on paper.
Hari is unusually brilliant, hardworking, sincere and persevering. At the same time, he is shockingly simple, surprisingly jovial, ever smiling and sometimes unacceptablely different. His 'fighting nature' is his forte.
He has not been tuned to accept defeat. But his overoptimistic nature proved to be his weakness too. His character becomes essential here to emphasize the fact that Anjali's life was fought for, till the very end.
I enjoyed introducing Sanjana's character into the story for many reasons. She is a typical teenager, bubbling with energy, ever talking and immature. There was one girl I knew, who used to go wild, every time some one called her as 'little'. As it amused me a lot, I introduced the mannerism into the character of Sanjana. The love and affection which Anjali shows for Sanjana, helped to emphasize on the motherly instincts of Anjali. I deliberately kept Sanjana out of the scene in the climax, as I didn't want to distract the attention out of Shakthi.
Rahul- a perfect North-Indian, a successful businessman, a mesmerizing speaker. His speech is his forte and it is evident in the scene in which he meets Shakthi. I brought Rahul back in the climax to give that emotional touch- a birth coinciding with two deaths.
Angeline is a character, which I had some difficulty in developing. A typical American lady, who adapts herself to the Indian way of life without regrets, was indeed interesting. I wanted to have some interesting mannerism for her. The way she talks about uneasy matters- pain, death, suffering- rather callously, very frequently, as if nothing had happened, that too in a place like the hospital, made her different.
Then for the most exciting part of it all- the climax! Some where in the middle of the course of the story, the fact that Anjali might die in the end, can be guessed. And so I presumed that there would be no suspense in it. And so the suspense lies in how Shakthi would react to her loss. I was really in two minds whether to go for the controversial climax, as given here. There was difference in opinion among those I consulted for this purpose too. Some badly wanted to project Shakthi as a brave young man, who gets ready to face life with determination- even with all its tragedies. Others wanted me to kill Shakthi (go for his suicide) as that would be the most fitting and emotional end to the story. I seriously considered the former climax, I was tempted to have it in a different way too- but I couldn't accept it whole-heartedly for unknown reasons. One former colleague of mine (she happens to be a medical student too!), much to my amusement, warned me that if I don't go for the 'suicide thing', the story might turn out to have a hint of 'male chauvinism'! Hell, what was that. He he Well, to be frank, I dismissed the comment as a silly joke.
Finally, after all the talk about the available options, I decided to go for his decision on the suicide attempt, but I didn't want to 'kill' Shakthi! So, I opted to leave the suspense as it is, and leave it for the readers to decide- to choose from.
Individual views may differ, but according to me, this is the best climax, this story can have.
Such a novelette cannot be written just like that, as it demands quite a lot of reading, technical research, scientific support and many sleepless nights. I, to my own surprise, did quite a bit of homework for this project, going through statistics in the net and obstetrics books. I am greatly,. if not fully, indebted to Dr. Raghuram, Batch pf 1973, Jipmer, whose article 'The right to live!' provided me first with the stimulus, and then with immeasurable inspiration, technical assistance. I also want to thank my friends, residents and well wishers, who readily cleared all my doubts regarding the indications, rules, laws, techniques, and complications of abortions. And at last, I would like to thank my mom, dad, tom, archu, jan, pri, jo, kam, jane and all those inspirational people around me, without the efforts of whom, none of what I have accomplished now, would have become possible.
Will meet you all soon with another exciting novel. adieu till then :)
