Page 74 - Till the Last Breath . . .

8

Dushyant Roy

It was a painful morning for Dushyant. The sedatives wore off and the pain

escalated. He had rung the bell twice but he hadn’t been attended to. He
clutched his stomach, rolled in his bed from side to side and whined. Had

Pihu and her parents not been nearby, he would have screamed his lungs
out. His guts were on fire.

‘Can you call someone?’ he heard Pihu say to her father. Her father
promptly left and came back with a nurse.
A transparent liquid was injected into his bloodstream and he felt

immediate relief, followed by a spinning, whirling sensation in his head. As
if he had just got off a merry-go-round. The nurse left just when he was

about to ask her for more. His hand was stretched out, wanting more of the
liquid that had just got him high as a kite. Slowly, his eyes closed and the
boundaries between truth and fantasy began to blur. He heard the woman—

Pihu’s mother—say to Pihu, ‘He used to drink and smoke. The nurse told
me. He needs a liver transplant, but he has no donors. I don’t know why you

chose this room. He will give you some infection.’
‘Maa, his disease is not contagious and it is too late for him to give me a

drinking habit.’
Her mom gave her an icy stare. ‘Whatever it is. I wonder where his

parents are. Since the time we have come, no one has come to meet him.’
‘Why are you so worried?’
‘I just feel bad for his parents. Such a young boy with such bad habits.

Disgraceful!’
‘It’s okay, Maa.’