16~NOT just a passionate affair~ 57 (2 parts) 18 oct-To new beginnings

OSR 57 - PART 1 - To new beginnings

5 days post-op

THE HOSPITAL WAITING AREA ENROUTE ICU

'H... hello...' slowly getting up from the cushiony seat of that semi-ripped waiting chair - a place that'd become his makeshift-home lately, he greeted their latest visitors. The first amongst his family to do so. High time he dispelled the air of discomfort that'd been lingering around for more than a minute now 'Hello Abdul...' he sighed 'And Jalal... h... how are you feeling now?'

'Hello Vishal...' Abdul greeted him

'I... I...' Jalal faltered for a second there 'I'm ok...'

'Aapko baitna hai?' came another soft yet sombre offer soon after 'You still seem quite...'

'N...no... thank you bhabhi...' he tried to smile 'It's ok ... I can...'

'Waise...' Vishal paused to rub his eyelids - the red streaks in his eyes a possible aftermath of prolonged sleeplessness, worry and tears 'Waise...Jalal' he resumed 'All of us... we'd come to visit you after your surgery... but, you were asleep...so didn't want to disturb...'

'I know... I heard...' he acknowledged 'Thanks for the gesture...'

A further awkward lull dominated the morose gathering, before an unexpected voice called out to the young man

'Jalal... I should tell you this when I have the opportunity' a haggard Mr. Singh gradually stood up, his legs almost semi-numb from having occupied that seat for so long 'I realize that a lot of people are obliged to you... Maan's family were praising your efforts to the skies yesterday... as Vishal's parent, I owe you my earnest thanks too...' his words became strained, while the deluge of emotions steadily surmounted his tired mind 'But, I think... the person most indebted to you... is Jodha's father...' picking out a kerchief from his shirt pocket, he wiped the emerging droplets 'Though right now... I'm unable to...'

'Uncle...' he spoke empathetically, finding himself a very uneasy spectator of that touching sermon from a helpless father 'Please don't apologize ... I understand... and...' he let out a heavyhearted sigh 'Anyway... c... can I... I mean... I'd like to meet Jodha!'

'Meet her?' Malthi's low smirk interrupted their conversation 'You can't meet her... you can only observe her... or what's left of her...'

Startled; Jalal turned at once to watch the limp shadow slumped in a far corner of the waiting lobby, growing increasingly disturbed. Disturbed by both - the discouraging undertones of the statement he'd just heard and by the actual sight of what he was seeing. What had become of this mother? Her plight was deplorable - a stark reminder to anyone witnessing that the woman hadn't eaten, slept, or groomed in days. This was bad. Worse than what his own ammi had been reduced to.

Just then, the sounds of a repressed sniffle were heard in the backdrop. It was bade bhaiyya. A second later, the big brother got up and walked off - followed close on his heels by Kranthi bhaiyya.

No doubt. It was all very upsetting. The entire Singh family were 'lost' - more disoriented than a bunch of weary travellers in a dark maze.

Nevertheless. What had to be done, had to be done. So, the young man reverted his attention to the quiet father once again 'Any recent updates, uncle? Did the doctors say anything this morning?' he paused 'I... I would like to see how she's doing...'

AT THE ICU

'Please...' he pleaded for the tenth time with the random white-coat sporting junior doctor - and he knew he was going to lose it soon. Why were there no end to these frivolous hospital formalities whatsoever? Crap! THREE days since he'd gained consciousness. FOUR days since her surgery - and he was still jumping through hoops just to catch a glimpse of her 'Please... I'll be out in a few minutes at the max...'

'Mr. Muhammed... this is an ICU...' the doctor wasn't too impressed 'We have many other frail patients inside... and you've just had a major shoulder surgery yourself... we can't be risking cross-infections ...'

'But I was told it's fine to visit when I could stand on my own WITHOUT support...' he stretched his non-operated right arm across to show he wasn't dizzy or woozy in the least

'Sir!' the irate shift-nurse chipped in 'It's hospital protocol...we can't be letting patients meet each other in an ICU... this is not a park!'

'How ridiculous!' the 'kindness' in this anxious boyfriend's tone was becoming less apparent 'Your hospital formalities don't object to inspectors barging into my room to interrogate me ... but... when it's about meeting another patient in the ICU for a few minutes...'

'Jalal' Abdul whispered, noticing how 'worked-up' his pal was getting 'Calm down yaar ... people dekh rahe hain... and this approach isn't going to help you!'

Taking the friend's cue, he halted - to draw in a deep breath. A swift glance around revealed that the 'scenes' weren't doing Jodha's already-harassed parents any favours either. So, he better sort the issue amicably.

Only, his preoccupied mind wasn't able to think up of the right kind of words that'd help him get his way now. How was he supposed to speak to a bunch of hospital professionals about the kind of relationship he shared with Jodha Singh - and NOT come across like a blubbering sentimental fool while doing so? That he believed sharing even a few seconds with his girl would only help her cause?

Anyhow, the young lover tried - albeit, carefully 'It seems the neurosurgeon told Jodha's parents that in spite of her condition, she CAN hear... I'm trying to be optimistic here...' yes, a tide of despair was relentlessly dragging him under, but he pushed himself to stay strong and rooted 'What if I share a few seconds with her... talk to her... what if she responds... somehow...'

Malthi glanced up.

Those words. Those heartfelt words. Whether they'd affected others or not, they'd definitely managed to grab this desperate mother's attention 'Jodha' her lifeless features were washed down by a fresh volley of tears as she forced herself to give the circumstances a rethink.

So, maybe that's what this 'coma' was all about. A drama. Another 'silent fit' from her ziddi laadli, who was so used to getting her way. After all, every other loved one had communicated with her - in turns - over the past couple of days. But, she hadn't responded. Maybe because she was throwing a tantrum to show her displeasure at everyone and everything keeping her away from this boy of her choice! Maybe she just wanted to meet HIM

'Fine then' she dried her cheeks with the end of her pallu. If THAT's what it took for her stubborn daughter to snap out of this trance! If THAT's what it took to erase the permanent stress-lines on her husband's temple. To bring the joy back on her sons' faces. If THAT's what it took for her little angel to call her 'Mamma' again, let her meet him! 'Doctor' the mother hastily butted into the ongoing conversations 'I am the patient's mother... I'll sign the consent form if that's what's required to...'

'God!' the inundated junior doc nearly threw his arms in the air 'It's not about consent forms...'

'Please...' a composed Jalal spoke above the commotion - peering directly into the doctor's eyes so he had his full attention 'Just a few seconds... from a distance... at least...'

'Oh ok...' the man grew vexed. He had other appointments to rush to and dealing with a bunch of emotional relatives was not something his morning schedules could accommodate 'But only for a minute...'

''Thank you so much!' the young man nearly smiled. In relief. His first smile in days. Unaware that this 'relief' was going to be very short-lived!

THE ICU

'S...she's the one?' he stammered, unable to believe he was actually having to reconfirm the identity of his girl with a shift nurse - but he had to. He couldn't even recognize her. Or what was left of her, as her mother had infamously muttered a short while ago. No wonder then that her family had become this distraught over six days. No wonder his ammi wasn't very forthcoming about this meeting. No wonder his friends weren't giving him any sensible answers whenever he'd asked them 'How's she doing?'

What had he expected to come across? His girl peacefully sleeping on a bed? With a drip or two to keep her going? And what was he seeing in her place instead? An atrocity. An unpleasant chiller. A sufferer painfully unlike the spunky young woman he always knew her as!

'Hey handsome!' a soft pair of hands suddenly cropped-up from behind - meant to startle him as they gently slid over his face, before concealing his eyes 'Something about me is different today... let's see if you can guess what it is...'

'Hmmm' he broke out into an amused frowned - amused by how far his bundle-of-surprises loved this guessing-game sport 'You're wearing something different... something that makes you even more irresistible than you already are!'

'Acha?' she giggled 'Well that's for YOU to decide...'

Releasing her boyfriend from the temporary blindfold, she sashayed in front of him and flounced her hair around - like a model from a shampoo ad would 'Ta dah!' her shiny locks had cascaded along her shoulders, down her chest till they stopped oscillating somewhere around her waist 'A new parlour that bhabhi's discovered. Does it get a thumbs-up?'

'Wow!' his brows raised in amazement. While he was no expert in the latest feminine hairdos, he could note that her generally-wavy hair had been straightened out. Were there a few fancy layers trimmed at the edges too? He wasn't sure. Anyhow. The bottom-line was that she looked no less than a supermodel 'Yeah...' giving his girlfriend a brazen head-to-toe onceover, he pronounced his final verdict 'I'm not changing my choice of adjective... this hairstyle IS making you irresistible!'

'Ok!' she remarked with a flirtatious wink, while brushing a lock with her finger 'Irresistible, it is then!'

Aha! A grin emerged on his lips. It had to. That 'sparkle' had surfaced in her eyes. A sparkle that he so loved - a 'self-assured' glimmer that held a hundred different meanings. With an attitude that read 'I am beautiful and I know it'. A confidence that implied 'I love the effect I have on my super-special boyfriend'. And a sense of contentment that meant 'I feel on top of this world now'

'Jo' as his mind and eyes tried to come to terms with what'd happened to his I-feel-on-top-of-this-world girlfriend, his fingers dug into the railings of the bed! For support. He had to if he didn't want to succumb to the bouts of overwhelming palpitations as he studied her unsettling picture. Where her head had been shaved bald. Where the partly-wrapped bandages revealed trails of stitches running on her scalp. Where her face had swollen from the after-effects of two brain surgeries. Where tubes her been taped into her mouth, pipes into her nose and needles into her arms. Where her skin had turned so pale that her blue veins had become bluer. Where she appeared wasted because her body had already lost a quarter of its weight.

'Sir...' echoed the shift-nurse's voice amidst the many low beeps in that silent ICU 'You're obviously not too well... a couple of days ke baad aa jaayiye...she'll be moved to a room in the long-term care ward ... wahaan par itne restrictions bhi nahin hote...'

'Yeah' he nodded blankly - in no state to either recognize or refute that proposal 'I must probably leave now...' his eyes looked away, still struggling to cope with the tragedy. He needed some time - and some strength - to process all that he'd just observed 'I'll return later...'

His fraught senses needed to snap out of his own daze, before he could set out to wake her up from slumber. He needed to somehow fortify his weakened form. Become a strong bolster that she could hold onto. Well, he had to - for THEIR sakes. He'd successfully crossed many such barriers before. Couldn't he achieve the same again with a bit of patience now? Besides, this might just turn out to be the last of such hurdles to conquer in this journey to love!

****************************************

All this would be easier decided than done, as the young man would soon realize.

For it is not said in vain that -

The final step was the toughest of hurdles to cross

The final spell of patience the toughest of virtues to master.

****************************************

7 days post-op

PRIVATE ROOM - LONG TERM CARE WARD

'These ones should do, right?' bhabhi held out the hardbound books - two novels that'd been worn out at the edges from over-usage 'I hope they do...'

'We couldn't find any others' Meera added

'Nahi... nahi I know... these are the ones she loves reading... over and over again...' a visibly agitated Payal prodded them on 'I...I.. mean the ones she used to love reading ... I... mean she'd love hearing these stories now too, right?' unable to decide if she was beginning to sound supportive or insensitive, the nervy friend decided to cease her arguments 'I... it's just that... I want to be able to do all I can... just that I...'

'It's ok Payal...' Jalal attempted to calm her down, perceiving how she was letting the turn of events get to her yet again - his manner somehow more 'restrained' than it'd been in the past week or so 'We all are doing what we can...' he received the two novels from bhabhi

Noting that Jalal was about to go in, Meera briefly stopped him - to share a parting thought 'I pray this works Jalal...' she ensured her sorrow didn't show-up on her face 'And we all know... that if there's one person who can get her back, it's you...'

The other two ladies joined Meera too. In wishing him with all their heart. Not an easy task for the trio to achieve with a straight face - seeing how many hopes and lives hinged on this couple's recovery.

'Thanks...' he acknowledged their wishes with a grateful nod and then disappeared into the room. To do what he had to.

The door shut behind him.

At long last. It was his first personal moments with her. In their own private space. After days of praying. Of making enquiries. Of researching. Of preparing himself. Of anticipation and of waiting. He took-in a few deep breaths. A few seconds to fortify his grit and to put on some cheer. No, not because his Jo could see him smiling, but because he believed she could 'feel' him smiling.

Speak to the coma patient in a low and pleasant voice he remembered the lines from the various research articles he'd been studying They can sense your emotions

Once certain he was ready, he went near her. Slowly.

Somehow, the meeting felt less stressful today. It was definitely easier to stand beside her. To watch her. To accept this new 'form' of hers 'At least God has given me something to work on' he kept focussing on the signs of 'life' - the zig-zag lines beeping across the heart-machine and the rhythmic heaving of her chest. Taking his seat on an adjacent chair, his fingers gently moved forth to touch her bony wrists - initially with hesitation and then with a bit more confidence 'Hey Jo...' gazing at the outline of her still face, he adjusted the crackle in his parched throat 'It's me... your Jalal... I don't know if you can feel me... but, I know you can hear me... your family was here ... my ammi had stopped by...and ab, I'm here...' following a short pause, he answered the first hypothetical question she would've asked him had she been conscious 'By the way, my shoulder's healing well... the dressing's coming off tomorrow and I might be discharged soon... I do get sharp jolts of pain every now and again though... seems an artery was severed... so a few nerves got affected... MONTHSSS of physiotherapy ahead... no gym for a while!' realizing that he was beginning to get carried away, the boyfriend shook his head in mild self-reproof 'But I hope to be fit and fine... sometime soon! So, we can fool around like we used to...' his cheer plateaued.

He waited. Watched out for some kind of change. In her fingers. Her eyes. Her reflexes. But no luck. Closing his eyes, he allowed himself a few moments to reinstate his faith in happy-endings

'Waise talking of fooling around... our group... Salim, Maan, Payal, Meera, Abdul and Renu... we caught up at the hospital canteen an hour ago... heck... the chai-samosa here is nowhere close to SRI canteen standards...' his eyes lit up 'Jo... remember the fun we used to have in our canteen... amazing days na...even after you complete your MBA, we should drop by at college once in a while to relive all this...' the haze that'd glossed over his eyes turned dreamier 'And you remember Amal old age home? This morning... many Amal residents travelled all the way from the other side of the city to visit us... they brought some Holy Powder... Vibhooti or something...to bless us...' his fingers continued playing with her wrist 'And haan... thanks for taking care of my Taveez sweetheart! It's back with me now... you know... we've had so many visitors wishing us well... my relatives from Mumbai... your uncles from Jaipur... college students... staff... I wish you'd open your eyes and witness all this...' overcome by grief at that point, Jalal ignored the escalating strain on the left torso - still immobilized within a soft cast - to bend forward and caress her wrist with his lips. Well, there was no other part of hers that he dare lay a hand on. No other part of hers that hadn't been tampered with a machine or needle of some sort 'I miss you so much!' he came away from her quiet body after an anguishing minute of pin-drop silence 'By the way...' he noticed the books in his hand 'I have a couple of your favourite novels here... I'll come by every evening during the visiting hours to read you a few pages...'

Reading out to patients in a coma helps them to see images

'And I hope...that by the time I reach the last chapters, you'll be awake to read the story with me!'

With that mental-boost, he opened the novel's first page 'From the moment Nick McCall walked into his boss' office, he knew something was up. Being a special agent for the FBI, he was comfortable at both...'

9 days post-op

'In Nick's opinion, the only accessories an FBI agent should pair with a suit were a shoulder harness and a gun.'

His eyes peeked up. For a fleeting minute. Searching for any flutters or movements on her.

Nope. Nothing yet - not in TWO days now.

It was difficult. To keep talking to an 'unresponsive' person - but he just had to remind himself that this was meant to be healing, not magic. That his girl was in there. Somewhere. Listening to him. Living the world through HIS voice to reconstruct her memories. Dependant on his words to establish the will to be conscious again.

Just then, the beeper on his mobile had gone off. He checked the texter 'Ammi?' Shucks! He immediately understood what that reminder was meant for 'My appointment with the consultant! Errr...' he checked the time 'I can still squeeze fifteen minutes in...'

Letting out a deep breath, he hastily dipped his head to resume the story again. Simultaneously performing a few stretching exercises that the physiotherapist had recommended to relieve the agonizing pain in his frozen neck and shoulders. Ever since the bandages had come off, the entire area somehow felt even rawer. Nevertheless. He couldn't afford to take breaks. Especially when he had so less time left to spend with her.

Re-wrapping her wrist within the confines of his warm palms Jalal delved into the book again 'Nick recognized the woman instantly. Not because he knew her personally, but because everyone in Chicago would recognize her. "Jordan Rhodes?" he asked incredulously. "She's the richest woman in Chicago."

12 days post-op

'This man was good-looking in a rugged, masculine way. There was something a bit... as he watched her intently. He took a step forward. Jordan took a step back. A slight grin played at the edges of his lips, as if he found this amusing.'

A smile escaped his lips as he arrived at the end of that para 'A handsome... well-built hero grinning at the effect he's having on his feisty hot-and-bothered heroine... hmmm... now, where have I heard that kahaani, Jo?' as he recalled their parallel-story - the corridor scenes, Jalal couldn't help but break out into a low laugh 'Waise... wanna relive our famous conversations AGAIN? Been a while since we did this anyway...' whipping out his brand new mobile from the back pocket and muttering a mental 'Phew' for NOT having deleted their memorable text-exchanges during the angry break-up-phase, he scrolled back. To their precious flashbacks

'Unforgettable!' he sighed mischievously 'That legendary moment when I'd received your first YES, a few hours after I'd cornered you in that verrandah...'

He read the sms aloud

'Jalal...u r the most stubborn...adamant...bull-headed...egoistic...strong-willed...annoying guy I've evr met...u r a royal pain, u know that?'

Then, the next

'Yup Jalal! That's why I hate it when I turn out to b WRONG ... and u turn out to b RIGHT!

Now, got ur answer?'

He moved below.

To a MMS attachment

'And remember this photo?' he asked, as he clicked it open 'These were the new brown heels you'd bought... you sent me this pic when I was in a lecture...'

His smirks subconsciously turning into unnerved frowns, he scrolled to the next one

'The aloo paratha I made has gone all sulky and cold... possibly misses u as much as I do. When r u comin?'

He continued rolling through the screen. Reciting the smses aloud. His tone drowning deeper and deeper in sorrow with every passing verse. It was like reading poetry - that portrayed the tale of two lovers.

As he cruised along with her on this special trip down their 'relationship' memory lane, the messages spoke of it all. Her changing feelings. His mischief. Her wit. His flattery. The first time they'd kissed. Their farm house trip. Their secretly planned dinner-dates. Their midnight chatter. Their intellectual debates. Their risque compliments. And Eid wishes too.

And once he approached their excited Annual Day smses, the tale was left incomplete.

'That was the night we made love...' he whispered, his voice as shaky as a discordant chord now 'Remains the most special night to me... and the diamond ring still sits in my cupboard, waiting for you to reclaim it...' he stopped and shut the phone - unable to carry on anymore 'Such a tantalizing journey' his dark eyes misted up 'Wonder how it's meant to proceed!' beholding her passive face required all of his determination to NOT succumb to the pangs of heartbreak he was feeling just then. Mustering some spirit, he went on to stroke a part of her cheeks that wasn't mummified under the oxygen mask 'Just give me one indication...' he demanded 'One hint to show me you remember all this ... that you're thinking about all this as I speak ...'

Suddenly, his thought-processes were interrupted.

The door had swung open. It was Vishal - followed by Kranthi bhaiyya.

Oh! Were visitation hours up already? Compelled to regroup himself from the emotional trauma he'd been entangled in for so long, Jalal glimpsed at the dial on his watch 'Wow... 7 pm!' not only was the hour up - it was possibly too late to make it to his physiotherapy appointment too 'Hi Vishal...' he stood up 'Hi Kranthi bhaiyya...'

'Hey Jalal...' Vishal nodded back 'Guess what?' he held up a pen drive 'I've composed the playlist you'd asked for yesterday...'

The boyfriend was impressed - that was quick 'With ALL her favourite tracks in it?'

'Yup' Vishal blinked 'Sun Raha Hai Tu is inserted at least five times in that list...'

'Great...' Jalal erupted into a half-hearted snigger 'Let's play the songs... and see how it goes...'

PART 2 BELOW 😳

57 - PART 2

17 days post op

The excited boyfriend barged into Room No. 11 of the long term care ward - unconcerned about the visitors who might be present or the kind of conversations that might be transpiring within 'Did she?' he yelped, still catching up on his breath after that 1000 m bolt down the corridors - a dash his two best mates could barely keep up with 'Did she?'

'Yes!' Bhabhi nodded

'Wow!' the man was still in disbelief - wondering if he should rejoice yet 'She moved her fingers? Last night?'

'Wait!'

The voice was dull - acting like a wet blanket on the mini-celebrations that'd hardly begun 'Jalal' Mr. Singh addressed the eager visitor 'It was only for a second... and the doctor said such things are usual ... doesn't mean she is gaining consciousness...'

'Oh!' damn! Did they have to tell him that? Did they REALLY have to tell him that? He could so do without the pessimism. Especially since he'd had NOTHING positive to go on for the past TEN DAYS 'Anyway...' he put on an uncomfortable smile 'Something's better than nothing...'

'Jalal...' Abdul's hush voice resonated from behind soon after 'Dekho, a lot of Jodha's relatives are here today...' obviously, he'd noticed the many 'odd' frowns going around in that cramped room - thanks to this sudden interruption into family-time 'Besides, Taaya is leaving for Mumbai tonight... he wanted to...'

'Wait a second...' the young man turned to face his besties - his wide-eyed expression indicating that he hadn't heard or heeded a word of Abdul's advice yet 'She responded to music, right? Means she wants to listen to happy stuff she can relate to...'

'Hey' Renu wasn't swayed 'It's time for your physio appointment... you better not miss it today... warna, aunty is...'

'What else makes her genuinely happy?' he overrode the warning, growing increasingly oblivious to everything and everyone around him 'I've done it all... reading... music... chatting...texts...'

'Jalal!'

'Wait... wait... wait... wait... I need to think back... to what her favourit-est sentiment in the whole wide world would be ... something that made her truly truly happy!' a nervous laugh followed 'Just trying to recall you know...'

'Jalaaal... are you listening to what we're saying?'

'Shit!' he closed his mouth in realization - like an epiphany of epic proportions had just swept him off his feet 'Shit... shit... shit... shit... how could I forget? She's referred to this many times... as the gesture that touched her the most...' hurriedly removing his mobile phone, he began browsing through their much-cherished video clips 'I should have tried this out before... pagal hoon main!' no sooner than he'd found what he wanted, the overwhelmed boyfriend stepped forth and startled the pal by clutching his face gratefully 'I love you Abdul' he chuckled, unaware that his actions were commencing to border on irrational 'Love you for retrieving my sim card from that creep's house... or I would have lost this!'

'Jalal... you're becoming obsessed' Renu murmured 'Even more than HER family is!'

'Hum apne kaam chodke aaye hain just so...'

'Ufff!' suffocated by their arguments, he retorted angrily 'F**k physiotherapy... f**k this police case... f**k everything else!'

'LANGUAGE! Her family is watching ...'

'We should probably come back later...'

'NO! I need to do this now!' he huffed in a very un-Jalal like manner, the agitation rendering him almost short of air 'I'm not mad! Why do you think I'm trying so frantically to get her out of this state ASAP? Kyunki, all research I've read has proved that the best chances to revive a coma patient is within the first four-five weeks... after that... her probabilities of slipping into a permanent vegetative state are MUCH HIGHER!'

The bickering muffled down.

For a spell, no one knew how to react to that dismal revelation!

Till the parents' pitiable wails - started echoing from a distant corner in the room

'Beta... don't say that...'

'Nooo! Please tell us what you just said is not true...'

Shit! The emotional young man shut his eyes. In remorse. Frustration. And helplessness. He shouldn't have lost his cool. He shouldn't have blurted this depressing fact in the presence of an already-wistful family. And definitely not in the presence of Jodha herself!

The tearful lull ensued - till someone ultimately decided to make an attempt to end the unpleasantness

'I... I'm going to go grab something to eat...' Vishal suggested 'Anyone else wants to join?'

'I'm coming' Bhabhi added

'Ma... papa... sab...' bade bhaiyya nudged - his whole family - on a firm note 'Aap bhi chaliye yahaan se...'

And before long, everyone had left. Primarily, to escort the inconsolable parents out of that desolate environment for a short while.

Yes, he'd come there expecting to celebrate - and it'd all turned out pear-shaped now. Regardless. It only made sense for Jalal to finish what he'd started.

So, wasting not a second further he accessed this 'special-est' video clip that he'd been referring to. The one recorded in his study - on her 23^rd birthday.

He pressed PLAY

Once its hilarious tickle-a-thon conversations started running, he held the instrument near Jodha's ears - watching her features very closely as he did so

Squashed together on that grand armchair, they caught up on their breath - facing one another 'Thank you' she whispered softly 'For making my 23rd birthday so memorable...'

'Don't worry' he winked 'I'll make your 43rd birthday just as lovely too'

'And my 63rd?' she gushed

'Yeah...' he sighed jovially 'As long as you'll be able to hop around a fort so briskly then!'

The clipping ended. There was no response from her. He played it again

Then, again

And again

And again

And again

And again

And again - till his mobile-screen started indicating 'Low charge'

'Jodha' the tears that he'd kept bottled up for days and days finally found their course. Yet, he persisted.

He pressed PLAY once more

Then, once more

And once more

And once more

And once more till the screen flashed 'Very low charge'

'Jodhaaa!' his desperation escalated 'Don't do this to me...' his tears became more profound - but he didn't let the clipping stop. His mates were striving to comfort him - but he didn't flinch. Because his senses were too fixated upon his girl's calm eyelids 'Are you listening to these words?' he hollered 'They talk of how I'd make your 43^rd and 63^rd birthdays grand too! But for that, you have to WAKE UP first!'

And the phone eventually ran out of charge. The screen blacked-out.

After a minute of paralysed stillness, the boyfriend fell down on his knees. Completely out of steam. Degenerating into a woeful heap 'This can't be how it's meant to end for us!'

'Jalal' both friends called out to him - repeatedly - but they were unable to come up with anything that could help put him out of his misery. How could they? The man was at the saddest point in his life - and nothing they said or did would change matters.

So ultimately, they just let him be - the spectacle moving them to sympathy tears too.

And, Jalal vented out. A 25 year old man like a 12 year child would. For the second time in his life. Muttering her name a hundred instances as he did so. Tearing his heart open. Letting his innermost fears be known - that revealed the possibilities of a bleak life ahead. Of loneliness. Of lovelessness. Of how he felt cheated and short-changed by life. He sobbed and sobbed. No one knew exactly for how long. Until his tired mind and body could take the hysterical onslaughts no more.

THE HOSPITAL CORRIDORS

'Abdul... Renu...' he responded to the tap on his shoulder, his morbid tone reflecting how far life had been drained out of his body. Everything was a blur. No longer did he have an idea of the time. Or the day. Or his whereabouts. Or the very reason why he was still alive! 'You guys go on... I'll get home... when I feel better...'

'It's me...'

Jalal looked up. Blankly.

The calm profile of bade bhaiyya was staring down at the 'emptiness' in his face 'I brought this...' he held out a plastic cup of garam chai, while taking a seat nearby 'Thought you might need it...'

Jalal said nothing in reply. He couldn't. However he did accept the tea - and even sipped a little. No kidding. The warm drink felt good as it slipped down his arid throat 'I'm sorry...'

'For what? For trying?' bade bhaiyya quipped 'Strange, isn't it? Grown men like us... reduced to tears because of people we care about...' he paused, before inserting a significant adjective there 'Grown STRONG men like us...'

Even in that state of apathy, Jalal HAD to look up - to meet eyes with the man. Had the big brother just referred to him as 'strong'?

Following a long spell of silence, a pensive Bhagwant resumed 'Choti is like the child I never had... so, seeing her in that state rattled me for a while too... till I grasped that the tears were getting me nowhere...' he heaved slowly 'Jalal, you are the torch-bearer here... my parents may not say it... but it's obvious they're depending on you for hope...' rubbing his tired forehead with his palms, he shrugged thereafter 'Tho, when you've decided to lead a marathon rally here... why race like a sprinter? You wouldn't last long! Like I understood that I have to take care of myself and stay tough for the sake of my parents... I advice you to take care of yourself and be tough for the sake of your ammi...' he paused 'Take it slow... because we don't know how long this marathon is meant to last!'

A pretty rare occasion indeed when Jalal was rendered silent, but he was. Now. The youth was touched. By the many hidden messages in that sermon. By the many hints of care and appreciation in that counsel. It was a big thing coming from one so egoistic. So, he valued the gesture. Both; the message itself and the intent behind it. After all, he'd never had or known a 'big brother' figure all his life 'I...I...' he stammered after a while, not knowing how to display his gratitude here. A hug would be too personal and a handshake too formal. So, he just glimpsed down at the tea cup thereafter and confessed his genuine thoughts 'That was some pretty powerful advice...'

'Trust me...' the man patted the younger chap's shoulder in acknowledgement 'I'm neither good at giving advice nor receiving it... but I've definitely learnt my own lessons through this ordeal too...'

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30 days post op

AT THE PHYSIOTHERAPISTS' CLINIC

'Much... much better!' she praised her patient, having drawn her conclusions from the range-of-movement around his left shoulder

'Waise...' the young man added, with a victorious glimmer in his eyes 'I drove the Audi myself today... FINALLY!' oh yes, the gearshifts did almost 'kill' his shoulder muscles, but he conveniently omitted that important fact

'The sign of new beginnings, I see' she returned to her desk - to jot the report in his appointment folder

'New beginnings...' he repeated with a subtle smile - not knowing why he liked the sound of it

'By the way... looking really smart today... tie... suit... sab...' for the nth time, her eyes fell upon the lovely fresh bouquet sitting at the end of the examination-bed 'And roses too! Going to meet someone special?'

'Interesting!' his debonair frowns deepened. Those were the second round of flirty 'You look smart' compliments he'd received that day - the earlier ones coming from a female colleague at work 'The tie's because I had an important lunch meeting with a client today' he casually informed, buttoning up his suit since the examination was done with 'And the roses are for my girlfriend...' he'd ended with a self-assured grin. In typical Jalal-like fashion!

'Oh! Girlfriend?' the physiotherapist's expressions instantly sobered up 'Waise... I apologize... don't mean to intrude... but, I heard she's in... a... a...'

'Coma?' he saved her the trouble 'Yeah she is! But she loves to hear from me every day...' he glimpsed at his watch thereon. Yup. Just enough time. To get to the hospital for his 5:30 - 6:30 pm daily catch-up session. To chat with Jo about his day. Play her their favourit-est video clip. And then, to make it home - for the sumptuous hot dinner that ammi must have prepared.

'But if she's in a coma, she isn't going to know that you are doing all this... that you've bought her such EXPENSIVE roses and all... this, coming from a medical professional...'

'Oh! I know... but, she SENSES it...' he countered 'Besides, my girlfriend does deserves the best from me...' after all, he hadn't been able to spoil her with flowers when they were dating in fear of her family's retaliation. However, NOW that things were different - he made it a point to buy her a fresh EXPENSIVE bunch every time the old ones faded away 'Makes her hospital room feel more homely... and she'd prefer it that way!'

'Wow!' the young lady nearly melted into a puddle 'Is she the lucky one? Or are you the unlucky one?'

'I'd say we BOTH are lucky!' an amused Jalal corrected her - trying not to chuckle at the various undertones in the physio's reactions 'Had I been in her place... she'd have done EXACTLY the same for me...'

Slipping his Bluetooth back on, he picked up the bouquet. Flicked his hand to give Miss Doc a fancy farewell. And then, strode out. His pace brisk. His manner jaunty.

Once at the car park; he beeped-open his car, slipped in and drove off. Into the lively streets. Into the busy Hyderabad evening traffic.

Just as he'd stopped at a junction's red light and increased the radio-volume in response to a good tune that'd come on, his mobile started buzzing.

Casting a quick peek at the caller, he switched the Bluetooth on 'Haan bol Abdul... so, how's your new office, Manager saab?'

'Abbe where are you?'

'Just out of the phsio appointment...'

'In your own language' Abdul sounded thrilled 'F**k the physio appointment... and get to the hospital... NOW!'

'W...wh...' his jaw dropped 'What are you saying?'

Ya Allah! The words that followed were a daze. The news bloody unbelievable. He removed the Bluetooth off his ear and let the device slip off. So the last words he'd heard would continue to resonate for some time. His forehead subconsciously rested against the steering wheel. As he took a few moments to breathe. To celebrate. To scream. To shout. To laugh - all of it in indescribable relief.

The traffic-light eventually turned green. A myriad of noisy horns started honking behind him, but he couldn't be bothered. Queued-up angry vehicles had to take a detour around his stationary car. Rickshaw drivers peeked into his window so they could curse this 'grinning' man who'd stopped his vehicle slap-bang in the middle of a junction. He couldn't care less.

Because he was busy celebrating. He'd just completed a humongous marathon. And won!

PRIVATE ROOM - LONG TERM CARE WARD

'Fifth time lucky' he struggled to steel himself. Because on four previous occasions, his fingers had coiled around the door handle only to recoil in trepidation. The nerves were unlike anything he'd felt before. His beats so ridiculously wild, he'd stopped trying to keep them under any form of control. This was crazy, silly, scary and ecstasy - all in one 'Damn... open it...Jalal'

And he did - almost expecting to find his girlfriend comatose. Buried under a mask and a series of tubes.

But no sooner than he'd stepped in, the place felt different. MASSIVELY.

Frozen at the entrance, his nervous gazes fell upon her features - the ones he'd become so used to seeing as unresponsive!

'God!' her eyes were open. OPEN! She was smiling. SMILING! At him! His girlfriend was alive. And AWAKE!

'Jo!' he gasped under his breath the moment a massive burden had just been knocked off his shoulders 'Tujhe tho...' he sniggered in disbelief, as he spoke his first words to a 'conscious' Jodha Singh 'Is that really what you told the nurses? Your first words? That you had to wake up because you want to celebrate your 63^rd birthday?'

'To celebrate it with you' she mouthed a correction. And made it a point to beam, though exhausted.

The boyfriend got the message.

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Hope you enjoyed it and if you did, please don't forget to leave me a like/comment as if time permits - it helps the writer in me to keep going 😳

My original take that Lashy refuses I delete 😆

Res

Shards you did it again ,I was in tears while reading it ,just kept on reading few paragraphs again and again ,it took me 2hr to read it completely ,was relieved after reading the last part 👏🤗,will be back with reply soon dearie .love you

aww...that was such a touching part...i cried thru most of it...jalal is such a sweetheart...the family now realizes what a gem he is...btw what happened to the professor?...i just want to see jalal and jodha getting married now.

Lashy, this was so so amazing. Totally worth th long wait. I could see why you said this was even more difficult to dish out. This made me cry again. It was so moving to say the least. I will be back with a proper reply. Love you Lashu my darling. 🤗 I thought of everything except the birthday clipping . DAMN!!! I loved it a lot re.

Di, I want to tell you one thing