Till the Last Breath . . . (13 page)

BOOK: Till the Last Breath . . .
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16
Pihu Malhotra

Pihu’s condition had started to worsen. The first signs of the relapse of ALS were beginning to show in her body. The nerve conduction tests showed that there was a significant loss of sensation in her legs. That morning, she had bumped into the door when she had gone to the bathroom. Her hands were starting to betray her again. She had started to drop things and had become clumsier. The horror of being an ALS patient was back. The loss of sensation and control didn’t bother her as much as it bothered Arman, who was the first to go through the reports.

‘Maa, I will be okay,’ she reassured her mother who was inconsolable on seeing her daughter struggle to do the simplest things again. The disease was
back
and it was worse than ever.

‘No, you won’t be. It’s our fault,’ she said. ‘We must have done something wrong,’ and she burst into tears. Her dad stood over her mom’s shoulder and smiled at his daughter. That’s the only thing he did. Someone had to be strong, hold the pieces of their lives together and remind them that there was still hope, that all was not lost. Yet. It was a little unfair to expect it from Pihu.

‘When is he scheduling the treatment?’ her dad asked.

‘Soon,’ she said.

They had discussed the treatment before. It was illegal and highly dangerous but Pihu saw it as a win-win. It was no secret that there were just two possible outcomes of the radical stem cell treatment. Either die a quick, painless death or be cured. It made perfect sense for her. Having seen herself rot and almost die, she knew what it took for her to plod through that time. Behind the smile and the emotional strength she portrayed, inside she was still a little girl scared to death. Either the
disease
would kill her or the
treatment
—she preferred the latter.

Her sobbing mom excused herself for a bit and her dad sat near her.

‘Do you think we should do this, beta?’

‘Dad, it’s our only option. And Dr Arman is a brilliant doctor. He is putting himself on the line to try this out. I am sure he has something in mind,’ she assured him.

‘But what if—’

‘Don’t worry. I am in good hands,’ she said and her dad snickered like a child.

‘What?’

‘You know what I think about sometimes?’ her dad said. She looked at him and encouraged him to continue. ‘Every time that Arman comes in to check on you, I think what if you two were to be together. As in, be married. You know. I know it’s stupid but I can’t help it. All the jewellery your mother bought for you … and her … her … dreams …’ His voice trailed off.

‘Aw. That’s sweet, Dad. But isn’t he a little too old for me? And you forget—he is trying to kill me with his scientific experiment. You wouldn’t want your daughter in the hands of a guy who uses girls as his guinea pigs.’

‘That’s funny,’ he said. ‘By the way, I have something planned for you. I really hope you like it.’

‘For me? A birthday gift? I am not dying in fifteen days, Dad,’ she said and wondered if it was a possibility. Her birthday was in thirteen days and she wondered if she would see another one after this. She had never really been a birthday person, but every year her parents put together a family-only birthday party with a butterscotch cake, trick candles, heart-shaped balloons and birthday hats to top it off! Oh well, maybe she had
always
been a birthday person because she loved these parties, and pitied other friends who spent theirs in clubs, decked up in newly bought shiny dresses and claiming to have brought the house down.

‘I know you’re not going anywhere,’ her dad responded. The smile had vanished for a bit but now it returned. ‘It’s just something I wanted to do for you.’

She listened closely, waiting for her father to give more away.

‘I will tell you more about it later. I think you should go sleep now before my son-in-law comes in!’ her dad joked.

‘Yeah, he can be a pain in the butt,’ she smirked and closed her eyes. Her mind started to concoct images of her getting married to Arman in a huge marriage banquet hall with all her friends and relatives lit up like Diwali in their sequined saris, mixer-juicers and enveloped money in hand. In a red-and-gold saree, she thought she looked resplendent while Arman looked his dapper self in a white
bandgala
, tailored with golden thread. She wished. Oh, how she wished! With dreams of a lovely, romantic honeymoon in the bluish-green waters of Malé, which she remembered from the holiday-package pamphlets, she went to sleep. For the first time, she fantasized about kissing a boy and clutched her pillow tighter.

When she got up a few hours later, she saw her father pacing in the room excitedly.
The surprise?

‘What’s wrong?’ she asked groggily.

‘Nothing, nothing,’ he answered and smiled broadly. On the next bed, Dushyant, who had been heavily sedated since he broke his arm, was grunting in his half-asleep state. She couldn’t wait to tell Dushyant it was she who had found out about his cadmium poisoning. After all, it was her first diagnosis. After her own, of course.

Just as her father sat down, tired, the door of the ward opened and ten familiar faces with big smiles came in, and crowded the tiny room. They shouted Pihu’s name in unison and hurrayed. Seeing her friends from the medical college again opened the floodgates of the happiness hormone in her and she felt her heart would pump out of her chest. She hugged them one after the other, Venugopal being the last one. He had the biggest smile, and the most crushing grief behind the misleading eyes. They had not come empty-handed. Similar rectangular boxes wrapped in yellow Pikachu wrapping paper. Some of them carried helium-filled balloons which were now kissing the ceiling and she wondered when they would come down again. Would it be when she was sleeping and would it scare the shit out of her?

All of them sat around her bed and asked her if she was doing okay. She pulled out one of her ‘I am going to be dead’ jokes and everyone laughed out loud. They told her how proud they were and how strong she was. A couple of girls broke down.

‘Who’s he?’ a girl asked about Dushyant lying on the next bed. ‘He’s hot, isn’t he?’ the girl winked at her.

‘He has AIDS, so you should probably leave him alone,’ she said.

‘You are kidding me, right?’ the girl said, duly horrified.

‘Obviously. He is a poisoning case. Though he is really rude and we don’t talk,’ she said and smiled. The girl’s eyes were still on Dushyant. ‘It’s so sweet of all of you guys to come here. I
am so happy! Can I open these? Please?’ She flitted like a small child amongst all the boxes, touching them, guessing what they were. She knew. It was one of those things when you know what the gift is but you don’t want to believe it till the time you unwrap it, just to prevent disappointment.

Everyone looked at her and smiled. Her dad, standing in the corner, radiated happiness and her mother was choked with tears. She ripped open the presents one by one. They were books. Big books. Mean and thick. Books on medicines.
Holy shit.

‘What is this?’ she said, her eyes a barge of tears, threatening to flood.

Her classmates were bewildered. They knew she would
love
them, but her smashing, teared-up smile exceeded their expectations. Venugopal said, ‘We all know what you want the most. You’re a freak. A junkie. So we are giving you what you want. That is the whole course for the next two years. And some old notes from a few seniors. Potent stuff.’

After taking time to compose herself, feeling like all the happiness in the world was concentrated in that tiny moment, like a hundred Christmases coming together on one single day, she said, ‘I have to say I am a little disappointed. I thought you guys knew me better. I have already read half these books, you know?’ Their shoulders drooped, defeated. ‘Obviously, I am joking! This is the best I could have ever asked for! You have no idea what it means to me. If you think you do, I feel about a millionfold better than that!’ she shouted and everyone laughed. The two girls who had cried hugged her and cried a bit more. ‘Though I wasn’t joking completely. I have finished a bit of it.’

There was a fresh round of banter, after which the room slowly transformed into a college hostel room after the last exam for which no one had studied, everyone thankful that it was over. Pihu’s parents left. Soon, the room was what
teachers in school describe as a fish market! They shouted, joked, laughed, cursed and fell all over each other. Pihu saw Dushyant grumble and mumble irritably in his sleep, but no one was in any mood to mellow down. They started to discuss their various professors, their quirks, the dissections, other medical-college stuff and uninteresting college gossip about who got caught making out and who was cheating on whom. In the middle of the conversation, she would close her eyes for a split second and imagine herself amongst frozen corpses, driving a knife through them, studying their slimy insides and taking elaborate notes. In those moments, she felt like she had lived a lifetime. Venugopal ordered pizzas, stuffed with molten cheese of three delightful kinds, for all of them and they ate like hungry cavemen. Pihu could really get people to talk and people loved talking to her. Except the guy on the other bed.

‘Can you guys just KEEP IT DOWN? FOR FUCKING HEAVEN’S SAKE!’ Dushyant shouted from the other side.

‘What the hell—?’ Venugopal replied.

‘If you don’t fucking leave this ward this very moment, I am going to kick you out. All of you,’ Dushyant warned.

‘Try it,’ one of them snapped.

‘Yeah, fuck you,’ added one of the girls who had cried earlier.

Dushyant had blood in his eyes, like when those invisible veins in your eyes fill up and make their presence felt. ‘Fuck you,’ he sneered and ripped out the tubes from his hands. His forehead popped a vein as a stunned Pihu watched in horror. Before she could react, Dushyant had jumped at Venugopal and hit him with a left hook that landed squarely on his chin. Venugopal lay on the floor in evident agony. He moved swiftly to the next guy, filtering out the girls and charged with an open hand. It landed on the other guy’s head and he tumbled to the ground.

‘Anyone else?’ he yelled as he stood there, breathing heavily.

‘Such a dick,’ a girl finally murmured as everyone looked at him, dazed.

As soon as he had hit Venugopal, Pihu had pushed the emergency button and two ward boys came barging into the room now. Along with them came Arman who was in the vicinity and had followed the ward boys inside. The ward boys instinctively grabbed at Dushyant, who hit them and they went crashing against the door. The other boys helped up Pihu’s friends who were sprawled across the floor, still overcome with fear and shock. Finally, after smashing the two ward boys to a pulp, Dushyant let them go and slumped on his bed. Arman, like the others, was too shocked to react.

‘What on earth is happening here?’ Arman grumbled as he looked at Dushyant and demanded an explanation. His fists were clenched and Pihu could tell he was restraining himself from boxing Dushyant’s face in.

‘They were fucking with me. I gave it back to them in equal measure,’ Dushyant replied, with fire in his eyes.

‘Take this bastard away and put him in the pathology test section,’ Arman ordered the three ward boys who were still reasonably scared of Dushyant. They grabbed his wrists. ‘I will deal with him later.’

‘I will go on my own,’ Dushyant snapped and broke free. ‘Assholes. All of you.’ He turned his back and headed to the door.

‘Hey, you, smart-ass,’ Arman called out. ‘The girl who you are calling an asshole saved your worthless life. Cadmium poisoning. No one else got it, she did. I wish she hadn’t and you had died on this bed.’ Dushyant looked back, surprised. The excruciating pain from his fall that day had numbed his brain—the fact that it was Pihu who had finally diagnosed him had not registered in his mind. Arman added, ‘Yeah, now fuck off before I throw you out of here.’

Dushyant left the room without a single word. Pihu blushed as everyone looked at her in amazement.

‘Yes, she did,’ Arman proclaimed. ‘She is better than a few doctors here, I am sure.’

‘He is just sweet to a dying girl,’ Pihu purred.

‘Can you stop with that? Dying girl and bullshit like that. No one is dying here,’ Venugopal added.

‘YES,’ the others joined in.

‘Oh, by the way, I am Dr Arman Kashyap,’ Arman said and waved.

There were appreciative smiles all around as most of them had heard of him somewhere or the other. For those who hadn’t, Pihu had told them in the last hour about the hot doctor in the hospital.

‘Pihu thinks you’re cute,’ one of the girls chuckled. The girl who had cried.

Arman smiled at her and responded, ‘I think she is quite stunning too. Isn’t she?’

No one replied, though the girls stared at him with unwavering eyes and batted their eyelashes. Pihu wasn’t really at ease seeing the other girls stare at him and flash their best smiles. He was all hers, she was the one who was dying, she deserved the searing-hot doctor who saved lives for a living. Oh wait, what, did he just call her stunning?

‘I think I should take your leave now,’ Arman said and picked up one of the books lying on her bed. ‘You’re feeding an addiction, I hope you know that.’

BOOK: Till the Last Breath . . .
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