Sunny

The early morning air was very cold, felt like an icy blade slicing through the layers of clothing and lunging at my heart. The overcast sky made things worse. Kalimpong is reputed to have a very pleasant weather, but in the months of January and February, things take an ugly turn. The falling mercury complemented by sudden winter showers, force the residents to huddle around the glowing fireplaces.

It had rained a couple of days back and might again any time today. The flask and the little packet of biscuits felt a like a ton of bricks. I was alternating the bag between hands as soon as the first signs of numbness would creep in. There were very few passers-by, and those who were there, had adapted the ‘chin bent down – hands in pocket’ posture of walking. Everything was typical of a very cold Sunday morning in Kalimpong.

The Kalimpong Sub-divisional hospital was a good 3 kilometres away and it would take me at least 45 minutes to reach. It was already 6:30 AM, I quickly did a mental calculation and hurried my pace. Gosh! I had said that I’d be there by 7 – 7:15 AM. I should’ve started earlier, but sleep was hard to come by, and I had dozed off in the early hours of dawn…

The final 200 metres to the hospital, is at an average incline of around 25 – 30 degrees. I was huffing and puffing when I reached the main gate, and was pleased to see that there was hardly anybody else visiting the patients. It was 7:30, not bad, I thought, considering the weather and the distance. I let out a huge sigh of relief as I climbed up the final wooden staircase to the Maternity Ward.

It was warm inside, really warm, the wooden floors and ceilings really help. I passed by the rows of beds, the smell of spirit and Dettol distinctly hanging in the still air of the ward. Some were waking up, some ladies were having morning tea. The nasal cries of a few babies here and there spiced up the general silence of the place.

I reached the end of the row, and there was no sign of her, strange, I thought, I am pretty sure this was the bed. Anyways, I think she must have gone to the washroom or something. There were no nurses around, so I just kept the flask and the packet of biscuits on the table beside the bed and sat on the edge, relieved to have reached here more or less on time…

Around 10 minutes and many a curious and some smiling glances later, I realized that she, was nowhere around, for quite some time now. I looked at the young lady on the next bed, and asked in Nepali “Did you see my wife going to the washroom ?”, the lady answered back “They have taken her away…”. I was aghast! “Who, where, when…” all the questions tried to come out at the same time, the lady looking at my confused face, smiled reassuringly, and calmly pointed at the Operation Theatre.

Strangely, I felt nothing, no fear, no anticipation, no joy, suddenly everything and everybody was very quiet and calm around me. I walked out of the ward and reached the verandah where it was marked, “Delivery Room”. Seeing nobody around, just stood there for a few moments, waiting for someone to pass by, so that I could catch and ask what was happening….

I think around 10 eternally long minutes later, the “Delivery Room’s” doors opened and a nurse came out asking “Who is there for Bed No. 7’s patient?”. Suddenly, the ‘slow motion’ I was in, was broken, and I replied, “I am” as if saying “present Sir” to the teacher’s roll call in school.

The Nurse, smiled and said “Your wife and son are fine…” .

1^st of February is knocking on the door again, and my son will turn 4 tomorrow.

“Happy Birthday Sunny, Papa loves and misses you a lot…”