Dedicated to: Priyadarshini2001

"Unlike the sand in an hourglass that can be turned and made to flow multiple times,  destiny greets us once, but the imprint it leaves is enough to last an entire lifetime."

-Elegiac_Damsel

_______

14th August

Third-person's point of view:

The night was eerily quiet. 

An overcast sky looked down upon the city of dreams, a city that never sleeps. The secluded streets were silent, the random, sporadic whimpers of strays sounding deafening. The wheezing sound of cars passing by at a quick pace on the empty roads and the occasional screeching noise of brakes being pressed disturbed the serenity of the ambience intermittently. Streetlights glittered, mingling with the flickering lights of the few households that refused to succumb to sleep, and lit up the dark tarmacadam roads. 

The 2 bedrooms flat in Nerul was plunged into a darkness that befitted the night sky. Anindita wasn't home. Apurba was awoken by a sudden jerky movement that came from Agastya laying on the other side of the bed. She sat up in bed, her pulse racing as she saw his body convulsing in spasms that seemed utterly abnormal and in a way, alarming.

She adjusted her clothes before rushing towards the living room where Ms Thomas, the nurse had been preparing to retire for the night. The middle-aged woman was quick to assess the urgency of the situation from Apurba's impatient demeanour. She was yanked up from her seat and pulled into the master bedroom of the house.

"We need an ambulance, ma'am. He needs to be taken to the hospital," Ms Thomas told the distressed woman.

A frantic call was made for an ambulance, and Apurba busied herself in trying to reach out to Anindita via phone. She was unfortunately greeted by the automated responder that let her know that the phone was either switched off or unreachable. Fighting all the frustration, agony, and nervousness, she tried a few more times hoping that there was something wrong with the connection that would be sorted out, the only key being persistent in her attempts to reach out to her daughter.

Unread messages from WhatsApp caught her eye. They were all from Anindita, sent barely 5 minutes ago.

Ani: Hi ma! I know you must be asleep now.

Ani: The flight got delayed due to rain and bad weather. We are going to take off in 40 mins.

Ani: Take care of yourself and Baba. I'll call you when I reach Dubai. Love <3.

Apurba was horrified! She wouldn't be able to contact her daughter for at least 8 hours, even so, there was no way Anindita could make it home before 12 hours. 

She sank into the sofa, her head resting against the backrest, tears of frustration, rage, and a strange fear, rolling down her cheeks. For the first time, she felt helpless and lonely, agitated at her daughter's frequent travelling. She laid motionless on the sofa, oblivious to the silence in the flat, awoken only by the commotion caused by the paramedics who rushed in with a stretcher.

"Ma'am, you are coming along to the hospital, aren't you?" a concerned Ms Thomas asked the dazed woman, resting her hand on Apurba's shoulder.

"I am," she whispered, looking up, staring blankly through red, glassy eyes that reflected her fear.

...

8 hours later, Dubai

Anindita was tired after a backbreaking, long flight. She was sleep-deprived, first with the regular sleeplessness that often troubled her, followed by the physical strain of sitting straight at one place, and the mental fatigue resulting from the long hours of single-minded concentration that flying demanded. Her phone's battery was down, and she decided to charge it up at the hotel, first thing, knowing that her mother would be worried.

Following the immigration at Dubai airport, Anindita was quick to leave immediately after, choosing not to linger around the Duty-free area like she normally would have. 

An hour later, when Anindita finally switched on her phone. There were scores of missed calls; some from 8 hours ago, and a few that had come in the last hour. There were texts, numerous ones; some on WhatsApp, and some sent via SMS. They were from her mother, the nurse, Ms Thomas, and a few of them from Satyaki. Her head started spinning, a horrible sinking feeling in her gut, weighing her down. 

"It has to be Baba," her instincts warned her, demurely. 

She struggled to dial her mother's number, trying her level best to restrain her hands from trembling. The call went through, but Apurba never picked up. Her pulse raced, her stomach knotting in fear and trepidation. She sucked in a deep breath, willing her mind to calm down, to shy away from assuming the worst. 

Fighting back tears, she dialled the nurse's number. 

"Ms Thomas? This is Anindita speaking," she spoke urgently into the phone, "What has happened? Is it Baba?"

"Anindita, your father, he," her voice trailed off as a sudden sob followed by a persistent wail resounded in the background, scaring her further.

"Is that my mother?" Anindita asked the other woman, squeezing her eyes shut at the sharp throbbing in her head.

"Anindita, I'll call you back, your mother kind of needs my assistance now and she needs to take her medicines," the call got disconnected abruptly.

She slapped her palm against the wall, screeching silently, in frustration. Her next instinct was to call up her cousin, but then she didn't appear to be aware of the situation there. Otherwise, Aparajita would have surely tried to get in touch with Anindita.

She found herself dialling Satyaki's number, ignoring all the texts that had been sent to her. Speaking to someone would give her a better insight into the situation.

"Hello? Satyaki, this is Anindita. I tried calling Ma and Ms Thomas. What has happened? Is it Baba? Please tell me something," she spoke into the phone, not even pausing once to let him get a word in between.

"Yes, it is your father. He um, had a second stroke, Anindita," Satyaki told her, his voice low and considerate, even though he chose to be straightforward.

Anindita felt the floor beneath her giving way. Her hand tightened around her cell, her back pressing against the wall as she leaned against it. The unshed tears that had welled up in her eyes, seeped out, making their way down her cheeks. Her throat felt hoarse, all her words and questions dying down.

"Anindita, are you there?" Satyaki's voice was laced with concern.

She was brought out of her shocked state as his initial words registered in her mind. 

"How bad is it, Satyaki? How is Baba doing?" 

"Anindita, this is his second stroke and it isn't an ischemic one like the last time, this was a hemorrhagic one and," he paused for a moment, waiting for Anindita to react or speak. "He has slipped into a coma."

Anindita fell silent, Satyaki's words falling on deaf ears her brain failing to comprehend them.

"Which hospital has he been admitted to?"

"Apollo, Belapur. It is the hospital nearest to your home. It was an obvious and instant choice, Anindita," he told her calmly, answering her doubts.

Anindita gulped, her thoughts running into one another. She put the phone on speaker, keeping it on the table in the hotel room, her hand rummaging about in her handbag for her iPad. She had to search for available flights to Mumbai and draft an immediate mail to her Human Resources Department for informing them about her sudden departure from Dubai.

"Satyaki, is there any way to shift Baba to a bigger hospital in proper Mumbai? Hinduja? Lilavati? Nanavati? Jaslok? Anywhere else!" she asked him, earnestly, her fingers tapping the iPad's screen furiously as her eyes screened the flight options, silently.

Satyaki was quiet for a moment. His silence allowed the noise from the background to reach Anindita's ears. The distant siren of an ambulance blared, mingling with the hushed conversations that were characteristic of hospital corridors.

"I would never recommend that, as a doctor," he spoke at length, sighing. "Given his current condition, I would never support anyone's decision of shifting him from one hospital to another."

"What do you mean by his condition, Satyaki? He is in a comatose state. Why can't he be transported via ambulance? Are you hiding something from me?"  Anindita asked him, her voice quivering. 

"No," his voice was unconvincing, almost obscure.

"Satyaki! I really cannot take this. Do you even realize my position? I am stuck miles away, almost an entire sea across! I came to know after almost 9 hours! I need to know. I will not break down. Just tell me already, Satyaki. I beg of you," she reached out to him, the quaver in her voice reflecting on her helplessness and vulnerability.

"He is on ventilator support, Anindita," he revealed to her, finally.

"You mean non-invasive ventilation, right? He is just on oxygen support, isn't that so? Just for respiration and," the lump in her throat gobbled her words, stopping her from uttering and describing a hypothetical situation to provide herself with a false consolation, that her heart knew, was untrue.

"Life support, Anindita," Satyaki confirmed her fears.

The room that had been spinning around her, appeared to be jolting. Her free hand went to her hair, tugging at the strands in an almost painful manner. This was by far the most distressing situation that had graced her 30-year-old life. The fact that she was away, not knowing every detail, not knowing what was happening there, not being there with an arm around her perturbed mother's shoulder, added to her infirmity and helplessness. How was her mother taking the news? 

"Ma?" was the only word that escaped Anindita's lips.

"She is well. I mean, she is in shock obviously, and she is further distraught and disturbed since you aren't here and because she couldn't reach you. Ms Thomas is here with her. She had texted me at 3 a.m. and I..."

"I am so sorry, Satyaki. I am so sorry for the inconvenience. She must have been clueless and helpless to have disturbed you at such an odd hour. I," she interrupted him, feeling guilty and horrified.

"Quit with the apologies, Anindita. This is neither the time nor the occasion to practice such formalities. I had told you that I am more than willing to come to your aid and your parents'. Do one thing, draft an urgent mail to your HR and try to get here ASAP. Your mother needs you here. Don't be too worried, I am here till then," Satyaki told her reassuringly.

Anindita nodded, totally forgoing the fact that he couldn't see or comprehend her gesture of acknowledging his help. She sighed aloud, almost bidding adieu to her exhaustion through it.

"It will take me time. I don't know when I will be reaching. I'll text you once I get a boarding pass in hand," she told Satyaki in a defeated tone. "About the expenses, Ma has one of my credit cards with her, but it has a limit of 50,000. I can transfer an amount and..."

Satyaki interrupted her, "Forget about the expenses. Your mother paid the preliminary amount required through the credit card. In case the expenses overshoot the limit, I am there. You can reimburse the amount later. For now, purchase a flight ticket and get here. Stay calm, Anindita. Have a safe flight."

...

15th August

Anindita finally landed in Mumbai at 7 a.m. following a 4 hour, restless flight from Dubai. The number of flights to India had been compromised owing to security precautions taken by the Indian government to avoid the influx of disguised terrorists on Independence Day. It had taken Anindita hours to get approval from her HR and even longer for her to get a vacant seat on a flight following some other formalities that had to be fulfilled before immigrating to India, which was a part of the security protocol set by the government's security guidelines.

She hadn't slept properly in 2 nights, and the luggage that she had to carry from the baggage reclamation to the cab parking area, seemed heavier. She slipped into the backseat of the cab almost lifelessly, her grafted skin concealing the dark circles under the sockets of her eyes, that would have otherwise been visible. Although she had charged up her cell on the flight, she kept it aside on the seat, in a dismally unsuccessful attempt, at casting it away for good. Directing the chauffeur to take the cab directly to Apollo Hospital near Parsik Hill, Belapur in Navi Mumbai, she reclined into the seat, her limbs immobile, and eyes sunken into the twin hollows of her face. 

...

Entering the hospital is always a nerve-wracking experience, especially when one walks down those quiet, white corridors, to visit someone loved. Anindita felt even more disturbed as she walked up to the reception of the hospital, dragging her luggage behind her. Her pilot's attire, which she had had no time or will to change out of, seemed severely out of place. Oblivious to the stares of curiosity and ridicule that others at the hospital greeted her with, she enquired, "Mr Agastya Mukherjee? Had a hemorrhagic stroke and had to be put on ventilation. Could you direct me to him, please?"

"Your relation to the patient, ma'am?" the receptionist asked her routinely, in a monotonous tone.

Anindita gulped, "He is my father."

The woman tapped a few keys and viewed the monitor, to check with their system. Anindita observed as her eyes skimmed over the details on the screen. 

The receptionist looked up at the expectant, impatient woman, her lips parting to say, "Ma'am, I..."

She paused, her gaze shifting to something behind Anindita.

Anindita let out an exasperated sigh, turning to see what had caught the receptionist's attention.

"Satyaki? Where is Ma? And Baba?" she asked him, visibly relieved to see a familiar face. There were dark circles under his eyes, clearly elucidating on his exhaustion.

"Come with me, Anindita," he told her quietly, holding out his hand to help her with her luggage.

Anindita followed him, surprised to be led to a corner near the stairwell. It only then did she notice his solemn expression. It couldn't be... or could it?

Satyaki paused for a moment, placing his hand on Anindita's shoulder, the sombre look on his face revealing what she had feared all along her journey, even before the words were out, "Anindita, your father passed away two hours ago."

Her mind went blank, her eyes turning hazy, her usually tightly pressed lips parting slightly, in shock. 

"We didn't inform your mother yet. She was in a bad shape and without you here, we didn't want to reveal this to her," he continued, squeezing her shoulder once.

She blinked, still silent. 

"I need to go and speak to Ma. I need to inform my cousin, and then Dada (elder brother). I need to seek Ma's approval for donating Baba's organs. He wanted the same, you know. If Dada chooses to come from the U.S.A., I have to arrange for Baba's mortal remains to be preserved," she spoke in a mechanical tone, her expressions not varying.

Satyaki shook her hard, trying to bring her out of her trance, "Anindita, can you hear me?"

"I'll go and speak to Ma, Satyaki. Which floor is she on?" 

"7th," he told her in a low tone, knowing that it would be pointless to speak to her rationally at a moment when she was aggrieved. Everyone had their ways of grieving, perhaps this was her way of coming to terms with what had transpired; acting indifferent and ignorant. 

...

"Ma?" Anindita approached Apurba, trying her best to stop herself from breaking down. 

"Agastya, he is gone isn't he?" Apurba asked her daughter, lifting her hazy eyes to meet Anindita's.

What struck Anindita odd was the fact that Apurba had addressed her father by his first name, something that she had never done. She had always referred to him as 'Anurag's father' or spoken to him directly using the popular interrogative, 'Are you listening?'. Another thing that seemed odd was the fact that Apurba knew that she had been widowed and that Agastya had left. Didn't Satyaki say that she hadn't been informed yet?

"I knew something was off. There was something wrong. I just felt the signs and you weren't here Ani. It felt so wrong," she spoke, her voice reducing to a whisper as tears made their way down her cheeks. "It felt so wrong."

Anindita wrapped her arms around her mother in an embrace, allowing herself to rest in her mother's warmth while offering her comfort. Apurba's resolve broke apart and she let her grief out in the form of twin streams of tears that flowed down her cheeks that were pale and shrivelled with age. Anindita rubbed her mother's back comfortingly, squeezing her own eyes shut as her mother's body convulsed with the intensity of her grief.

...

An hour later, Anindita arranged for Apurba to be sent back home along with Ms Thomas. She was still in shock and had almost passed out due to fatigue and shock. It had taken Anindita a while to stabilize her mother, coax her into drinking water, and then making her leave for home, so she could eat something, take her medicines, and get some rest. 

She proceeded to the reception, enquiring about the details of the bill.

"The amount has been cleared, ma'am. Your mother paid the part of the initial bill and later when your father had to be put on ventilator support, the Sir who was accompanying your mother, initiated the payment. We can give you a proper breakup for your ease and you can talk to the doctor about the death certificate. The body will be released only after the certificate is issued," the receptionist told Anindita, mechanically, a pinch of humanity seeping through her veins at the last moment, causing her to quip, "I am sorry for your loss, ma'am. Take care."

Anindita nodded, "Thank you for your condolences. What I am interested to know, however, is who I am supposed to talk to regarding the death certificate and I need to know if any possible arrangements can be made to donate his organs and preserve the mortal remains?"

The receptionist directed a passing peon to lead Anindita to the doctor who had been in charge of Agastya's treatment. She followed behind, stopping abruptly when she caught sight of Satyaki who was still lingering in the lobby of the hospital.

She was quick to approach him, "I am so sorry. It completely slipped out of my mind that you were here. I mean it is so self-centred of me, especially after all your help and I... I am sorry. Ma just went back home and I got involved in all that. About the amount, send me your bank details, I'll transfer them. I do not have any cash on me and my chequebook isn't here. I need to talk to the doctor and someone from the morgue. Oh, wait! I still haven't spoken to Dada or Bonu!"

Her flustered face seemed to have aged further in the last one hour. Satyaki forgot to speak listening to her breathless, non-stop rant. It was her grief that was causing her mind to become so messed up and unorganized. 

He was quick to assess that. 

He caught hold of her hands, shaking her slightly. 

"You haven't had the time to cry yet, have you?" he asked, softly.

Anindita shook her head, her hand going to her wrinkled forehead, "I just cannot understand what I am supposed to do first and what I can leave for later."

"For starters, I think you need to make the calls to your elder brother and your cousin. You need to speak to the doctor, yes, but after that, instead of worrying about the payments, you need to give yourself the time and space to cry and let out your emotions," Satyaki told her quietly.

"I am sorry. I know I am a mess at the moment. I think I'll talk to Aparajita's husband, instead of contacting her directly. She is pregnant and her emotions may just go all over the place. Perhaps, he will be able to break the news to her gently. She has already lost her father; my uncle, and now another loss for her. By the way, Rohini auntie and Agamani must be alone at home and you have been here for two days, relentlessly. I am here now, I will be able to manage," Anindita told him, managing a small smile that appeared self-contradictory on her sad face. 

She turned, unlocking her cell phone and dialling her brother in law, Ranvijay's number. She pressed the phone to her left ear, smiling weakly at a little kid who waved at her. 

She spoke to him for a while, inquiring casually about her cousin's health and then moving on to tell him about Agastya's demise. She asked him to break the news to her, gently and also advised him to take Aparajita to Anindita's home where Apurba was, instead of the hospital. Once done, she disconnected the call and sucked in a deep breath. It was time to talk to Anurag.

Anindita dialled his number, listening to the slow rings as the call went through. It was picked up at the 7th ring. 

"Hello? Bonu (little sister)?" Anurag's voice was groggy. "Is something wrong? You are calling in so late."

Anindita checked her watch. It was neither set to Eastern Standard Time nor was it set to Indian Standard Time. Her watch was adjusted to the local time in Dubai that was 1.30 hours behind IST and 8 hours ahead of EST. Doing a quick calculation, she concluded that it was about 1.30 a.m. in Massachusetts. 

"Dada, it is something important. It is about Baba," she began, hoping that she had all his attention. "He passed away, Dada. I wasn't in town, I just returned, Baba left us two hours ago."

She heard some shifting sound from the other end, followed by a low grunt which sounded like, 'Anurag, switch off the light.' The sound of a door being shut and steady footsteps greeted Anindita as she waited for her brother to speak.

"Bonu,"  he began. "How did this happen?"

"He had a second stroke, Dada. He slipped into a coma and he passed away later," she told him, blinking her eyes rapidly to stop her tears from falling.

"How is Ma holding up?" he asked quietly.

"She was shocked and was crying. I sent her back home with her nurse," she replied to her brother's question, solemnly. "Dada, will you be flying in? I have to make arrangements for Baba to stay, till you come. Send me the details and let me know, will you?"

"It will take some time, sis. My younger son, Rhitam doesn't have a passport. Moreover, Gitanjali and I are green card holders and we need to get some formalities sorted out. Aryaman has an American passport. We need to apply for his visa. I'll visit the Indian consulate's office tomorrow," Anurag sighed, his sleepiness evaporating. "We will be there by the 20th sis if God wills. Take care of yourself and Ma. I love you, sis."

Anindita felt her heart constrict. Her brother had never been too vocal about his feelings. His silent actions were all that showed his love, but words? Anurag had been so alien to expressing his feelings with words. She bit her lower lip, fighting the urge to return her brother's words. Instead, she said quietly, "Come home soon, Dada. Ma needs you here. She needs us both."

She disconnected the call, letting out a loud sigh. She had never felt so alone in her life as she did at that moment. The vein in her temple pulsated. She hadn't slept in two nights and after hearing about Agastya's condition, she had not been able to push a morsel down her throat. She felt the dire need to pop an analgesic into her mouth. Her hand automatically went up to her forehead and she rubbed the area in between her eyebrows. Her eyelids felt heavy.

"I know you aren't in the right state of mind, but you need to eat after you are done talking to the doctor," Satyaki's voice startled her.

Anindita turned to face him, surprise and shock apparent on her face. "You are still here?" she blurted out.

"You thought I went back home, just because you asked me to?" he asked her, raising his eyebrows. "My mother and daughter are quite safe and well at home. Ma wants to come over to be with Auntie."

"I... That would be good," she said quietly. "Ma is alone. She could do with someone close by. Auntie can help. If you can get her here, it would be a great favour to me, Satyaki."

"I know you are alone too. Your brain refuses to work when your heart is heavy with grief, Anindita," Satyaki told her. "I'll leave once someone from your family arrives when there is someone else apart from you who can go about with this work. I am going to leave for home after you are done with the work here, to freshen up and bring Ma here so she can be there with Auntie."

...

To be continued...

PUBLISHED ON: 23rd September 2020

I just realized that it is Agamani's birthday today :-)

My calendar had a reminder set for some reason that I am unaware of. I don't even remember setting one! But I guess it is my baby's birthday, so here's wishing her a Happy Birthday. 

Author's note:

Hi!

I hope you all are well. I know this chapter isn't much, but this was essential to the plot. I will try my best to update whenever I can. 

Thank you Priyadarshini2001
Thank you isn't enough for what you do, always.

Thank you _sarcasticpanda for the 'motivation'

Thank you Jhimli2301 for the little message that made me feel good.

Thank you Hanz7781 Hey new writer! You know I have way more reasons to thank you than what I can type here.

Take care of yourselves and stay safe.

A random question for you:

Which fairytale did you fall in love with, as a child?

Till next time...

Love,

Shubhadittya

P.S. Please do VOTE, COMMENT, and SHARE if the story has been able to touch a part of you.

P.P.S. Please share your views and opinions with me. You can contact me anytime and for any reason. The DM Box is always at your disposal.