Love Beyond Condition

Kabir had never felt so lost before. He just couldn’t believe what he saw everywhere there was smoke, confusion, debris & the smell of raw flesh mixed with gun powder. His eyes burnt with tears & the surrounding heat. He had to keep wiping them away to be able to see. He didn’t know which way to go, which way to see. Where was his Ananya?

   She had been here just few minutes ago covering the interview of a politician for her news channel & he had seen her live on TV; & it was just a few minutes ago that he had seen an explosion a few yards behind her. Now the whole place looked the same. The air was thick with smoke & everywhere there were clusters of remnant fire, scattered chunks of clothes & flesh, pools of blood & men in uniform working intensely amidst the chaos & the cries to restore some sort of control.

    He didn’t realize how he had reached that spot; nor did he know where to look for his wife—his life—now. All he knew was that his Ananya needed him & he must rescue her at any cost. He wiped his tears once again, took a deep breath. He ran to where his legs led him, digging where there seemed even a slightest hope of finding her, all the while calling, ‘Ananya! . . . Ananya!’

   In the process, he saved a few people buried under the debris of fallen walls & broken wooden planks while unearthing a few others who couldn’t survive. People rushed to take over & help, but where was his Ananya?! Kabir felt drained now. He knew his wife was alive. She couldn’t die! Not now, when he needed her the most! Not when their life was just beginning to blossom! She could not desert her Kabir! ‘Where are you, Ananya?!’ Just then he noticed Sunny Gill, Ananya’s cameraman, sitting outside a rescue camp, heavily bandaged & crying, with his hands over his head.

   Kabir rushed to him as hope flooded his heart again. Maybe, he knew! Maybe he could help! ‘Sunny! Oh, Sunny! I’m so glad to have found you! Thank goodness you are safe . . . where’s Ananya? You were with her, right! Where is she?’

   Sunny seemed overcome with increased pain at Kabir’s sight & refused to even look his way.

   ‘Look at me, Sunny. . . please, look at me . . .’ Kabir pleaded his reactions stabbing at his heart. ‘Don’t hesitate even if she’s hurt. I’ll take care of her . . . but tell me where is she, please. Listen! Don’t cry . . . please don’t cry! Tell me, where’s my Ananya? Please tell me, bro . . . please.’

   But Sunny cried even more & could only manage to look at Kabir with sorry eyes. This merely increased Kabir’s desperation & he looked around, inside & outside the camps, yelling out her name. But she was nowhere. He returned to Sunny & said sternly, ‘Look!

Stop crying. We are here. Everything’s going to be alright. Tell me, where is Ananya? At least show me where you saw her last, man!’

   At this Sunny looked around like a broken navigator & at last pointed in a direction. ‘There . . . ’

   ‘There! By that rubble?!’ Kabir asked with hope.

    ‘In . . . that . . . rubble . . . I think.’

    As Kabir broke into a run, Sunny called out to him & said, ‘I’m sorry, bro . . . but there’s no hope.’

    Kabir had to fight the tears that rushed to come &, deciding he had not heard Sunny’s warning, ran to the place the cameraman had indicated. He sought her in the rubble & all around it, with only her name on his lips, pushing aside every bit of wreckage he came across—broken slabs of wood, shattered glass panes, mosaic wall pieces. But still there was no sign of Ananya. ‘Ananya! Are you in there?’ he kept calling out to her. ‘Don’t worry, your Kabir is here. He will save you. Hold on, dear . . . hold on.’ As he pushed aside the last piece of rubble, all that he met was warm feeble ground. His hope left him, his limbs gave way & he collapsed to the ground, shouting for one last time, ‘Ananya!’

   Kabir had never cried like this before in his life. He looked at the silent chaos around him. His family & friends, like so many others, were still searching through the wreckage. There were others too—the volunteers & officers still searching for survivors, the media still covering the incident, the survivors & family members still crying for their loved ones. There was a lot of activity all around him. Then why did only his world suddenly seem to have come to a stand still? Why had it suddenly fallen silent? He could even feel his heart slowly cease to beat, one beat at a time, as his tears flowed in such a rage as if determined to kill him.

   Just then something glittered in the sun & caught his attention. It was a little diamond ring on a hand buried under debris a little away. He immediately recognized it to be the same ring he had gifted Ananya on her last birthday. His heart lifted at its sight & he quickly crawled up to it. After a few more laborious minutes of moving aside the debris, he found his life again. There was his Ananya—limp, badly injured & soaked in blood! He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He pulled her up & held her tightly to his chest. He heard a meek ‘Ka-bir!’ escape from her lips before she passed out.

   She was rushed to a nearby hospital & the doctors immediately took her into the operation theatre. Many hours passed, & they were still inside with her. Their family & friends sat over the benches in the corridor, waiting & wishing for the operation to end successfully, but Kabir couldn’t afford to move away from the OT’s door. He stood outside it & looked on as if he could see all that was happening inside—the nods & gestures of the doctors, the exchange of surgical equipments, the questions & confirmations in their eyes, nurses using cotton balls after cotton balls to control her bleeding, the monitoring of her heartbeat & other vital signs through machines, the cuts, insertions & stitches mad on her body. He twitched at the last thought, feeling the prick & pain of scalpels & needles. It must hurt her too, won’t it? Only that she wouldn’t feel it. She had long been unconscious and he wondered if they had even needed the anaesthesia for her; & all the while, he wished for a miracle. He wished his heartbeat would reach her even as he stood here in despair while she lay there in distress; & like a fairytale effect her spell would break, her eyes would flutter open much to the amazement of the doctors & nurses, & she would murmur, ‘Water’ or ‘Kabir’.

   He waited long moments for the doors to fling open & the doctors to emerge, beaming to declare, ‘It’s a miracle! Ananya’s completely fine. You may take her home now.’ But no such thing happened. The red light continued to glow overhead, the door remained closed & every moment continued to be an ordeal. The air suddenly grew thick around him & he couldn’t stand there any more. He rushed to the window across the corridor & stood there looking at the commotion below & the setting sun further beyond, fighting his tears that hadn’t dried yet. His mind moved over everything that had happened—how so many people’s lives had changed in a split second, maybe for ever too, because of one senseless & mindless act of violence inflicted on them by some heartless brutes; & how nothing made sense anymore, except the little life, now threatened, flickering or extinguished within their loved ones.

   He didn’t turn back even once to look towards the door. He neither had the courage nor the need for it, but he immediately knew when the red light was switched off at last, & he was there by the door before anybody else could reach & before even the doctors could

emerge. Dr Mayur Sable emerged, looking his usual composed self. Mayur was Ananya’s close friend & Kabir knew friends never spelt doom. He forced a faint smile & conveyed to them in his casual doctor-like tone, ‘The operation was successful. We have removed almost all the foreign particles from her body & treated her wounds. Second phase of the operation is under way, but we need to discuss few urgent matters. Can any two among you come into our senior doctor, Dr Sethi’s, chamber?’

   He went away without further talk, & Kabir wondered as to what it takes for someone to be this composed even after seeing his friend caught between life & death! Maybe years of dedicated practice as a top surgeon! But what were these urgent discussions he talked about? A sudden fear gripped his heart & he couldn’t manage a thought, as his father led him along.

  The few minutes they had to wait outside Dr Sethi’s chamber were some of the longest in Kabir’s life—enduring every moment, fearing every moment. At last, Dr Mayur ushered them in, every part him being the epitome of composure; only his eyes seemed to betray him. There was restlessness behind their calm. Kabir sat looking at them suspiciously, ready to talk on Ananya’s behalf while knowing that he should let his father handle most of the discussion.

   ‘We are lucky to have found her before too late,’ assured Dr Sethi. ‘Our team is still attending to her & we hope she responds well.’

  ‘I hope Ananya isn’t critical, sir!’

  ‘She’s gone into coma & we need to keep her under observation.’

  Coma! Kabir looked stricken.

  The doctor continued, ‘We, however, can’t wait for her to revive & there’s an important procedure we need to do to save her.’

    Another blow hit Kabir hard on his heart.

   ‘What procedure, sir?’ Even his father’s voice couldn’t hide the fear behind them.

  ‘We all have seen her right hand. She’s lost a major portion of her forearm from wrist to elbow . . .’

  ‘Replace it,’ Kabir suddenly spoke up realizing what Mayur was referring to, the feeling of something tearing that he had felt when he had pulled her out of the rubble, returning to him. He clenched his fist to suppress it.

  ‘I’m sorry Mr Sharma, but that’s not—’

  ‘There are so many ways,’ Kabir interrupted again, ‘grafting, re-building, whatever.’

  ‘That’s not an option here. It will only increase further complications. Her hand’s lost its life.’

  ‘Revive it then.’

  ‘Try & understand, Kabir. She’s in a very fragile state & we need to do this operation,’ Mayur broke in.

   ‘There’ll be some way out . . . please find it,’ Kabir pleaded.

    ‘Her blood isn’t clotting, Kabir. Our team is at present trying to help her achieve that.’ Kabir only shook his head in denial.

   ‘We need to save her & amputation is the only way.’

   ‘I deny the permission,’ Kabir said in a cold voice & left without letting them say another word.

   Kabir stopped by a little fountain in the hospital’s yard, his helplessness killing him. He knew he’d be approached again & he wasn’t escaping. He only wished Ananya had somehow escaped this attack. Mayur came & stood beside him.

   ‘I can’t let this happen, Mayur,’ cried Kabir, sensing the friend in him.

   ‘I can understand,’ Mayur replied gently, ‘Come with me.’

   Mayur led him to the ICU. where Ananya lay. As Kabir entered, clad in a surgical robe, he found her lying still, a dome-shaped cover over her body. She was heavily bandaged & looked so delicately brittle. There was swelling in most parts of her body & her wounds still seemed ready to burst. She was being supplied with glucose & blood intravenously & an oxygen mask helped her breathe. He yearned to touch her, yet the fear of harming her turned him numb. Mayur moved the white sheet a little aside to reveal her hand. The sight of it brought Kabir’s hand to his mouth & he looked away ‘You need to be brave, Kabir,’ began Mayur, his desperation finally evident. ‘You can see the degree to which her bones have suffered burns. Her nerves . . . blood supply . . . everything’s been cut. The pain must have been horrible for her. It’s a miracle she’s alive.’

   ‘It’s . . . so blue!’ Kabir blurted out in fear. Mayur nodded. ‘It’s turning toxic. Doctors don’t consider comatose as a good thing, but I’m glad she’s not witnessing this part of her life . . . We can’t wait for more than a hundred

minutes now.’

   ‘Then do it,’ Kabir said, sounding really lost & walking out of the room, a part of him dying with those words. He didn’t cry anymore, tears didn’t have the power to console him or comfort his heart anymore. A nurse approached with a statement to sign, which he did without another thought, even as his family looked on. ‘We are helpless, Dad,’ was all he could say.

   As two wardens wheeled Ananya again towards the OT, Kabir whispered, ‘I’m sorry, Ananya . . .’ The last drops of his tears finally fell.

   The next few months passed away in a haze with lots of visitors coming in & offering him words of encouragement, & Kabir not being away from the hospital for more than a couple of hours every day. Ananya’s condition improved at a very slow rate & Kabir stopped paying attention to what the doctors had to say after the first week of her operation. Before the operation they said it was necessary in order to save her life &, after it, they said they needed to wait for her to revive in order to rule her out of danger. He, instead, chose to sit by her whenever they allowed, listening to her breathe & the beeps of the monitors as if his own life depended on them, & pick signs from her condition. Every day that passed gave him only one report—his Ananya held on to life & she was in pain, immense pain. Though her wounds & burns had begun to heal, she showed no signs of revival. The tumult inside him threatened his entirety but on the outside he was the paradigm of calmness. Only those who knew them well could see the storm he battled within him.After all, their love had withstood the test of time, distance & trust.

   The pain filled her as she slowly regained consciousness one evening, & Ananya moaned even before she could open her eyes. By the time doctors rushed in, she was crying profusely. Outside, though Kabir had found his heartbeat again, he realized he didn’t have the courage to face her. What was he going to tell her! A few hours later, after her situation was brought under control & Mayur turned to leave, Ananya called him back, saying, ‘How long have I troubled you?’

   ‘Not long enough to tire me, sleeping beauty.’

  ‘My whole body aches . . . but I don’t feel anything in my right hand.’

  ‘Don’t worry; you won’t feel any pain anywhere else too by morning.’ It was too early to shatter her with the truth. Her family was then allowed to visit her. Kabir crept in last & the others kept their meeting short—to allow her to rest & give the couple some time together.

   When they were finally alone, Kabir slowly sat beside her & embraced her.

  ‘Don’t ever leave me again, all right!’

   ‘When it happened . . . I feared I’d never see you again.’

   ‘Hush! Don’t say that . . . Thank you for coming back.’

    Ananya tried to smile despite her pain, relief flooding her. 

   But she is not able to lift her right hand!

   They softly talked into the night even as apprehensions gnawed at his heart, as he noticed fear & panic slowly settle in her eyes.

   ‘Kabir, can you do me a favour?’she requested before too long.

   ‘Say,’ he managed, fearing the worst.            ‘Remove my cover . . . I don’t have the courage to.’

  He froze for an instant, too shocked to react. ‘Ananya . . . listen . . . ’ he stumbled.

‘Please!’she pleaded, gripping his hand & nearly in tears.

  He silently acquiesced &, moving closer, he gradually lifted it just enough to confirm her fears. The next moment she had buried her face in his arms, stifling her cries & denying what she had just seen.

   He cocooned her in his love, letting her cry her heart out.

 ‘How am I going to manage without it, Kabir?’ she lamented between her sobs, as the first wave of shock slowly passed away.

   ‘We’ll work it out somehow,’ He assured her. Prosthetics was an option. But he didn’t tell her that. It depended on how much mobility her arm regained. Nothing was certain yet.

   ‘But it’ll never be the same again.’

   ‘Then we’ll start afresh,’ he added, smiling faintly for the first time in months.

   She nestled in his arms, shutting her eyes to the trauma, finding strength in his warmth & life in his love again.