Page 224 - Till the Last Breath . . .

one seizure, one blockage, after all. For the next hour, he paced restlessly

around the room. After the first few calls, the test lab assistants asked him
to wait in the stern voice usually reserved for junior doctors. Finally, the
results arrived. He mailed them to his doctor friend immediately. The

results were unambiguous and clear. She was dying, and she was dying fast.
The next surgery had to be performed as quickly as possible. He braced

himself and left for room no. 509.
He entered the room and found the bed next to Pihu empty. He

remembered Zarah’s words: he needs a transplant. Almost to distract
himself, he tried to think about how at least Dushyant could be saved. A

few more steps and he looked straight at Pihu. She met his eyes and smiled.
He knew that she knew, so he decided he wouldn’t beat around the bush. It
was as difficult for him as it was for her, he thought.

‘Your test results are back,’ he said, his face glum and devoid of
happiness. ‘We have to schedule you in for another surgery.’

‘I know. What are my chances?’ she said in a very throaty voice. It
wasn’t easy for her to talk any more. Her breathing was laboured and she

looked drained and tired.
‘I don’t know, I can’t say. Your immune system is a little weak for the

procedure, but there is no way out,’ he clarified.
Her eyes glazed over as she looked at the ceiling. ‘I will die,’ she
whispered and tears flowed. Arman felt like cutting out his heart and giving

it to the little girl whose spirit to live was undefeatable. There she was,
confined to the bed, most of her limbs useless, and she still wanted to live.

‘Don’t say that,’ he said and put his hand on her cheek.
‘I am not afraid of dying,’ she said. ‘I have seen that happening to me

before. I am ready for that. I am afraid of being forgotten. I am scared of
where I will go after this is over. I am afraid of what will happen to my

parents. All these months, I have stayed up nights, crying, thinking of how
my dad will react when I am gone. I know he doesn’t show much, but I
know, inside, he is a broken man. My mother, who brought me up, whose

only dream was to see me as a beautiful bride with many kids, what will
happen to her? All they lived for was me. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be,