Some 15 years ago or so,
a kid was hit by a truck. His mother, as usual, went to drop her two youngest sons’
to the school that morning. The school was nearby and it was an exam time. She had
told them to wait for her to pick them up later. But that day, somehow, the
youngest son finishes his exam early and decides to head back home with some of
his friends. A cross over the road and everything became so fast after that. It
was like within a blink of an eye.
The truck had hit the
left leg, from thigh below, very severe; leaving the little skin that remained
hanging. The right leg was also hit but not as severe as the left. People who
became the witness of the after effects at the accident spot would later say, “Pieces
of fats, muscles, skin and blood were splattered all over the road.” But on
that eventful day, the truck driver did something out of usual. Instead of
running away, he stop the struck, got out of it, took off his shirt and wrapped
it around the kid injured legs, pick the kid up and ran on foot with the kid to the nearest
hospital.
It was a very small
village hospital and when the kid mother arrived, they told her to take the kid
to the nearest town hospital ASAP because the kid had lost too much blood and
there wasn’t much they could do for him. A three hour drive with an unconscious
kid and a crying mother, the ambulance finally arrived at the city hospital but was refused
to admit because the hospital authority didn’t want to handle a case of an
accident death with the cops. It was too much of a mess for them and they knew it
was too late for the kid. You don’t want to be the mother at that point of
time. She was holding her almost death son and she couldn’t do anything except
shed silent tears and beg.
A few minutes or maybe
even hours later (no one really remember now) and after maybe hundreds of outgoing
calls, a nurse intervene and the kid was admitted. It was a day off for that nurse
and she was bound for a holiday or something like that, until she got that call
and headed back to the hospital. Somehow she happened to have known the kid family
a long time back, who knows how.
Three months, seven major
surgeries and who knows how many minor surgeries later, the kid was finally out
of hospital. Now even the kid hardly remembers anything. When ask, he thinks he
remember some pain when they had to do his wound dressings and that’s it.
Oh by the way, I was
telling the story of my little brother. He must be a little over seven when
that incident happened. Now only some scar remains and he has grown so much
bigger than me. He also likes to pain and when we were a little younger, I use to
buy him colors and stuff. So a few weeks ago, he uploaded a picture of himself
painting, on Facebook and it made me so proud of him. After all I was not a
very bad impression at all huh? Ahahaha…Yes that’s him and I thought he deserves an
introduction.
Last Word: Sorry, I had
to tell you such a story today. I didn’t intend to. But yes, I did intentionally
avoided going into the details of what happened at that time and
why it became one of the most important chapter in our lives, especially for my
father. Maybe, someday I will or maybe not. By the way, I added a new page
on my site for sketches. Some I did when I was in college and others for a
T-Shirt project which didn’t work out well for whatever reason. So if you get time, do check them out.
