Page 242 - Till the Last Breath . . .

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Dushyant Roy

Time had slowed down. It had been four hours now. Dushyant had spent a

major chunk of his time in the hospital not talking to the girl on the other
bed, but he felt lonely without her on the bed beside him. He missed her

cherubic, irritating presence. The empty bed and the perfectly ironed
bedsheet, which had been changed since she last slept on it, scared him.

His mother had dozed off on the bed after some high-intensity sobbing
and his father had been looking at Dushyant as if to ask if he was forgiven
—or if he had driven Dushyant to the condition he was in right now. Or so

Dushyant thought.
Constantly, his eyes went to the bed alongside his and he could still see

all the books scattered around, the crutches Pihu had used when he first saw
her, the wrapping paper of the gifts her friends got her. There was a
crushing sensation in his heart like he had lost something important. No

matter how hard he tried to shake off thoughts of Pihu’s pulse dropping to
zero, her lifeline flattening out and she breathing her last on the surgery

table, he wasn’t able to do so. His own heartbeat slowed down every time
he thought of her not being there.

Zarah walked in a little later with an envelope in her hand. Dushyant
didn’t think anything of it before she handed it over to him.

‘How’s she?’ Dushyant asked as Zarah started to walk away.
‘It’s still going on. I am too scared to go in and disturb them,’ Zarah said.
‘And what is this?’ he asked pointing to the envelope in his hand.

‘I have no idea,’ she replied curtly. Her mood since the morning hadn’t
changed. It seemed as if she was still hurting from what had happened