An Unforgettable Night

After that night, I told to myself that I’ll never share that experience with my readers on my blog. Actually it was a very depressing period of my life and I was at my weakest. I seriously thought that night that I’ll not be able to see the next morning sun. Nevertheless, after around one year, I finally decided to break those mental shackles and write about the darkest night of my life. And which better place to write about the experience than the place from where it all began, the train from Bareilly to Ghaziabad by which I returned to college today after Diwali vacations.

I should start from the morning of 5th January, 2009, or otherwise the whole situation will not be clear. It was a chilly winter morning and I boarded the train from Bareilly to Ghaziabad, to resume college for the 6th semester. Mom insisted on wearing a jacket over the thin sweater I was wearing but I had a tendency to act like ‘Phantom’ in winters, so I refused. And then the journey started, which changed my life for ever.

I was allotted a window seat and despite all my efforts to keep that damn thing closed, it repeatedly unlocked itself and let the chilly breeze in. And as predicted by mom, soon I was shivering like hell. After three hours of journey, I felt some relief when the sun was finally out from. But it was still cold.

Around noon, I reached the college campus and was glad to be back. I took a nap as I was tired after the journey. It was not until in the evening around 6pm, I felt something is wrong within. I had started to shiver and was feeling weak. In addition, I felt some fever too. So, after dinner, I took a Paracetamol and hoped that I’ll be fine.

But by the time the clock struck 9, I knew that it is not just an ordinary fever. I was shivering uncontrollably. My limbs were numb, my forehead was burning, was having fits of cough with sputum, was unable to breathe, and there was no way I could fell asleep.

After three hours of suffering, I decided to repeat the medication as it was obvious that the previous dose had no effect. I took a Vicks Action 500 in order to get some relief from cold apart from fever. But nothing seemed to have been working that night. After an hour or so, I was now spitting blood! At this moment, I wished that God should take my life away so that my suffering could end.

It was 4am and I hadn’t slept a bit. My condition was worse than ever, and the constant shivering was making my life miserable. I am not a religious person, but at that time, I was thinking that if there is God somewhere, He is taking into account for all the sins I have committed in my entire life. All my memories were flashing in front of me, as I waited for the morning sun. Meanwhile, I took another tablet, although I knew I should not because there should be enough gaps between doses.

At 7:30am I some how moved to the mess, so that I could have something for breakfast, because all the medicines I took were not required to take on empty stomach. With utter difficulty, I had a bowl of dalia. And now I had to wait for the campus doctor to come to his clinic.

After 10am, when the doctor arrived, I told him my symptoms, and not to my surprise, he was baffled and immediately referred me to Fortis hospital with number of blood, urine and sputum tests. Later in the afternoon, finally, I was diagnosed of Acute Bronchitis and was put on heavy medication for 7 days.

These two days and the night between them were pretty hard on me. The more I try to forget them, the more they haunt me. The only positive came out of all this fiasco was that I started valuing and respecting life which God has given me. Today, I strongly believe that there was some invisible force, some power, which despite of all my miseries, helped me to pass out that period of agony and suffering and gave me a sort of rebirth in this beautiful world. May God don’t let this happen to anyone what happened to me that night.

Boot Polish

It was yesterday when I was heading towards Noida in a train. It was an awkward feeling returning to the Karmabhoomi after being spending a weekfull of leisure time at home with the family, friends and amidst various festivals. Nevertheless, the tension of pending projects also creeped in. So, to lessen the guilt of not studying at all at home, I tried to read a research paper to pass time which we have to study for the OS term paper.

As the time passed and more and more passengers boarded, my compartment was jam packed when the train crossed Moradabad. It is a regular scene in the Indian trains where many vendors try to sell their stuff to the passengers. That day was no exception. The packaged drinking water man, tea and coffee man, chips and biscuits wallah, chaat wallah and many others roamed about the compartment from time to time.

Then came a little boy of around 6-7 years of age. Wearing a shirt torn from n number of places and was dirty as hell, the shorts which were just managing to cover his necessary parts. It seemed his face and hair had not touched water for months. He was carrying an old, outworn bag and was desperately searching for something on the floor as he moved on. He stopped infront of an elderly gentleman and then I came to know what exactly he was looking for. He asked the gentleman to let him polish his leather shoes. The man like a true businessman inquired what he will charge for that. The boy replied Rs 5 for a pair. The man told him that he didnot have change and so the boy moved on sadly only to return after half an hour and again asked him to let him polish the shoes. The boy told him that he had earned enough to return the change in case the man gives him a bigger note. Reluctantly, the man gave him his shoes and the boy, with his full heart and skill, polished them. After a lot of effort the shoes were polished and the boy handed them to the man and asked for his money. The man, looking at one of the shoes and pointed in an offensive and abusive language that it was not polished proplerly and demanded to repolish it in order to get the money for his labour. The boy with a sad and desperate look on his face took out his brushes again and was back to work. Finally after much hassle, the man paid him his due and the sad expression changed to the feeling of satisfaction.

Now the question is, all this labour, hard work and humiliation just for Rs. 5? Is it not unfair on the part of that little boy? In the age of attending school, and gaining knowledge he was forced to work and that too in such inhumane conditions. I was really startled to observe that. We all know these incidences happen on a regular basis in India but I realized it yesterday for real. I am not able to forget that sad and hungry look on the face of that little kid. Is this what we have achieved after 61 years of Independence? Only managed to offer lives of poverty, desolation, and humiliation to our next generation. I will not be surprised if that boy grow up and become a gangster and kill people for little money, or become a terrorist and plant bombs in the dustbins, or get killed in the tender age while falling from the train while attempting to remain stuck to the door. Can anybody give me the answer?

Comments invited.