Numb

The waiting area outside the ER of Jehangir Hospital was just as clean and well maintained as the rest of the hospital. But it didn’t need to be. Nobody who ever sat in those chairs lining the walls of the long corridor ever cared about hygiene or cleanliness while there. Every man who has ever had to sit down on one of those grey plastic chairs has always had far more important things on his mind. Anxiety has filled his head as he has repeatedly gone over every imaginable conclusion to his current situation. Many of the conclusions he has arrived at have been far less pleasant than he can bear, and he has had to drag his thoughts away from them, and set off again on a new line, hoping for a better ending. This battle has raged on within him, until finally a man in a green overalls has walked out and given him news; news that he has inevitably already imagined at some point, but news that evokes strong emotional reactions from him nonetheless.



Naveen sat alone, on a chair far away from the ER doors, his hands together, thumbs pressed against his lips, and his fingernails digging deeper and deeper into his palms. A passing nurse could have seen her own reflection in the sweat that had collected on his forehead. He stared blankly at the wall opposite him, trying hard to stop his hands from shaking. His mind was in turmoil.



Away to his left, standing or seated right outside the main doors were members of Arun’s family, and several of his friends.  His classmates from college had formed a quiet huddle close to the corridor wall, inches away from the path being traced by Arun’s father as he paced up and down the hall. In the chairs closest to them, Arun’s mother sat sobbing into his elder sister’s shoulder, resurfacing every few minutes to voice her faith in God and to tell everyone not to worry.



Five metres away from where she was sitting, Naveen gave the silent gathering a quick glance. He cursed himself. It was his fault what had happened, and he knew it. And he didn’t even know if things could still be saved yet. Behind the doors of the ER, Arun continued to battle for his life, and Naveen looked back at all the things he could have done differently this afternoon. He had known instinctively even then, that handing Arun the keys to a car like that was a bad idea. It was a an ‘83 Hindustan Contessa, and a beautiful one at that. But handling of a car the chassis of which is a decade older than yourself is no child’s play. And Naveen should have known that before giving in to the demandss of an 18-yr old.



Naveen’s knees were shaking too now and the shirt he wore was stuck to his back, moist with perspiration. He had always been careful about these things. He had always thought these things through. But Arun had asked so nicely, with such charm. He had known all about the history of the car, its lineage, its year and make. He had spoken of the car with a passion that Naveen believed they shared. He had impressed Naveen. And he had driven off.



It was almost an hour later that Naveen had flown out of his home and sprinted all the way to the hospital. He had not known who made the call, nor how he knew Arun. All he heard and understood was that the nearest people who knew anything about what had happened were gathering at Jehangir. And that was where he was headed. At the hospital, none of Arun’s other acquaintances spoke much about the accident, or how exactly Arun had swerved his car into the path of an oncoming truck. Naveen’s heart rate hadn’t gone down since. He shook violently as he tried to keep breathing steadily, but it was no use. Guilt was slowly starting to devour him from within. He did not yet know if the damage he had done was permanent. But until he did, no one could offer him any relief. Not until the news came. Only then would he know where he stood. Only then would he know whether he could live with himself after this.



The doors of the ER burst open, and the man in green overalls walked out. Immediately Arun’s entire family stopped still. Each member of the party stared at the man’s face, their minds now numb, no one daring to think any more. The man started to speak.



Further down the corridor, the light above where Naveen was seated flickered. He had heard the doors open, and was aware that the man had brought news. But he had continued to stare at the wall opposite, his knees had not stopped shaking and his nails continued to dig their scars. The flickering light distracted him. He stole another glance at the ER doors. Arun’s family and friends had burst into conversation. Men and women hugged each other and the man in the green overalls smiled as Arun’s father embraced him. There were tears everywhere, but tears of a different kind. Naveen looked away again, and back at the white wall. The sudden commotion just as suddenly began sounding muffled. Naveen shifted back into his world of anxiety and despair.



“Excuse me? Naveen, yes?”



Naveen didn’t look up. He was still shaking. He could barely hear himself think, let alone others speak.



“He’s safe. The doctor says he’ll be fine, there’s nothing to worry about.”



Naveen exhaled loudly, as if angry at having lost concentration. He began to speak, still addressing the chairs on the opposite side of the corridor, but the words got stuck in his throat. A frustrated grunt was all he managed. His anxiety did not leave him. Nor did his fear. He shut his eyes, praying silently.



A hand fell upon his shoulder, and Naveen would have shaken it off had his phone not begun to ring at the same moment.



In a sudden response to the noise, Naveen jerked himself off the chair and slammed his phone against his ear. “Yes? What is it? How is she?”.



Arun’s father stared with his eyes wide. Naveen’s cell phone had its volume set high enough for the entire corridor to hear the caller’s response in the silence that had fallen over it.



“She just came in. I’ve had a look at her, and I’ve got good news. She’s pretty beaten up, sure, but nothing money can’t fix. Part of the engine might need to be replaced, and fenders too. But I know a guy who can help. No need to worry. She’ll be fine.”



Naveen’s knees almost gave away beneath him. His shoulders drooped as he let out a huge sigh, warmth spreading to his very fingertips. He had never felt so light in his life. He looked up at the ceiling, back still turned to Arun’s father, and whispered a silent thank you prayer to God. His phone dropped back into his pocket, and his feet slowly dragged their way away from the rest of the gathering.



A dozen pairs of eyes bore into his retreating back, but no one said a word. They knew he wouldn’t hear them if they did.







Harman Singh