Short story

The visitors' bench

Sachitra MAHENDRA

I was taking a stroll down the hospital alley. The scene was amazingly arresting. How can or dare you portray a hospital as something 'amazingly arresting'? But this is what I have seen. Probably, because the hospital was still hemmed in early hours of the day. My walk-mates seemed to be reveling in too.

When I reached the main entrance, that was a different scene. The medical staff was occupied with patient-affairs. Gosh, these folks are real eager beavers. They have got to work even before seven.

I don't wake up that early to get to work - well, save special occasions. To wake up early and get ready for work? I would rather sleep under my dear duvet with clothes on ready for work - that will be the finest thing in the world.

I was almost stepping into the entrance, when I spotted a Morris Minor being reversed. The picture was somewhat disturbing - a man's legs were hanging outside the front shutter. I did not want to see this sight. You never know when will these nasty nurses and attendants drive you away. They are worse than doctors, who - er... - are all right in a way.

I sat on visitors' bench. Oops... I forgot to say why I am here in the first place. 'Thousand apologies', because I was basking in the morning beauty to the hilt. My mother had a little difficulty in breathing, so my sister in law insisted she should be nebulized. We had to rush her off to the hospital. After the nebulizer thing, she had to see the doctor for consultation, which made me wait more time on the visitors' bench.

Remember, I came straight away to the visitors' bench without waiting to see what's going on. Yet I was craving to see what's at hand. Suddenly the staff started running here and there in a frenzy. The man of those legs - chap must be close to 40 - was wheeled in on a stretcher, someone pumping his heart.

At length, a woman I presumed should be his wife, was escorted to the bench. The nurse looked at me as if to say 'keep her engaged' - she was too busy to do it herself. To have a male stranger to console a woman in distress? But such things should happen.

My parents had advised me not to talk to any stranger lest they would kidnap me. This woman was too sober to kidnap me. I really needed to talk to her. A late adolescence experience came back to me out of nowhere. I must have been somewhere close to 15 when I tried to talk to that girl. She gave me a glare, and I wished I would have been better off in hell. That was nonsense to me, an adult now. But still I had no inkling how to open up a talk with a women in distress. There should be a starting point.

"Your husband?"

"Yes, he kept so well, even last night. But suddenly he was silent. He wasn't even breathing properly."

My first attempt worked just fine. I am pleased.

"Why, what's wrong with him?"

"No idea. But Nirmala has been drinking a lot lately."

"Really?"

She was almost in tears.

"You know Malli, he never touched alcohol, when we first met. My cousins spoiled him. He is a very mild person. He easily gets stoned, he is not even used to heavy drinks. I curse those bastards for doing such a thing to him."

She was sobbing.

"I think I will never see him alive again."

A woman pouring her heart out to a stranger so placidly, when her husband is wrestling with death. I could hardly figure out what kind of a wife this woman could be.

"No, Akka he will be all right. Don't worry."

"Do you know what he told me last night. And those are the last words he spoke to me. How am I going to bear this, tell me?"

"He will be all right, don't worry." What else could I have said other than the same set of words?

"He wanted to go to a movie and spend the day together. Only two of us."

"Any special reason?"

"Today's our 15th wedding anniversary."

Now this came like a stab on my heart - I felt lump in my throat. Come on you got to ease her pangs; I was raking my brains for words of comfort.

"He drank a lot. I hated him for that. But he always cared for me. He never had a meal alone. Last night he said, Lalitha, I can't wait for tomorrow to dawn, and went to sleep, never to speak again."

Why is this woman telling me everything? I wanted to soothe her with my hand on her shoulder. She would not mind, I knew it for sure, but others would give me stares. I glanced over her, and our eyes met.

"Don't worry, everything will be all right. Has it happened before?"

"He survived two attacks. But something tells me he is not going to beat it this time."

"Why do you think so?"

"Something tells me. I don't know."

"Don't take what comes to your mind seriously. You have got panicked. This is a first class hospital and your husband is under the supervision of qualified doctors. You have got absolutely nothing to worry."

"Let's see. Anyway I am sorry I could not ask what you have come here for. I loaded you with all my stuff."

"My mother's having a breathing difficulty. She will be all right. Thanks."

Silence grew between us. I could not think up of anything to carry on the talk.

"Look after your mother well. Luckily I have two kids from him. I loved and cared for him. I have never been unfaithful to him."

"I know, even if we hear what we don't like, don't worry. You have done everything for him. He will never curse you from the grave. You can still live with that memory."

Where am I getting at? Words slip in without any forethought.

"I know. That's a great relief. I know I can live with that memory. I gave out my whole self to him. He drank, but he cared for me. He cared for me! He had never spoken aloud to me. He was such a good man. I want my sons to be like him one day."

"That memory will hang over you. You'll be all right. He will be with you all throughout your life."

My throat was aching. I managed to keep on talking this far, but now I have reached out the borderline. The distant figure of the doctor seemed sight for sore eyes - ironically. She fished out a visiting card from her handbag.

"This is my husband's visiting card. Funeral will be at the residence address. See you Malli then. You are a godsend one - I wish I had a brother like you. I would not recover this shock if I didn't have you to share my feelings. Nirmala and I are forever grateful to you for that."

I stood up, for I could not stay here any longer. But still my ear was elsewhere...

"I am sorry Madam..."

"I know doctor. I was half expecting that."

Mother must have gone to see her doctor. I have to wait for her. I stepped out to breathe in the morning serenity. Minutes seem to trickle in, yet the morning was still arresting!