Rohan was going to be late for work, once again.

‘I get delayed everyday for work, because of Father.’

“ Father! Are you finished yet, I am getting late.”

“ Just a couple of minutes more.” Shambhunath, his father , replied.

After a few minutes, Rohan was at the breakfast table, very irritated, seeing the gourd and lentils vegetable and chapattis laid out on the table, He was not liking this, one bit.

‘To be delayed for work, for this.’ He thought.

Unaware of the thoughts his son was having, Shambhunath stood by the table, ready to cater for anything his only son Rohan would ask for.

Shambhunath was on cloud nine when Rohan was born. He would find excuses to come home early from work to join his wife, to play with Rohan. His mere proximity was reason for a unique sense of satisfaction and bliss.

Preparing breakfast for Rohan was something, he had been doing since Rohan was about ten years old,the time Rohan’s mother passed away, succumbing to a short but fatal illness, sacrificed at the hands of a negligent doctor, who was unable to diagnose properly, and too arrogant to admit it. He was treating an ailment that was never there, whereas the actual disease was killing her, life ebbing out moment by moment. Shambhunath realized, he would have to seek an opinion from another doctor.

Shambhunath took his wife to another acclaimed doctor of the town.

“Take her to the City Hospital, immediately.” The doctor said.

Shambhunath had only an old rickety scooter at his disposal, so he hired an auto-rickshaw and reached the City Hospital.

The doctor on duty was a youngster and quite understanding, he looked at the papers and after a short check-up, ordered his attendants to take the patient to the ICU.

“ Sir! Your wife is in quite a critical condition.” The doctor told Shambhunath, “ She has not been properly treated by the doctor you have been consulting, in fact the doctor has been terribly negligent.”

“ We will definitely try our best, but the odds are less than even.”

Shambhunath’s heart sank.

He would remain continuously at the Hospital, at times joined by Rohan. Taking only short breaks, for bath and to take care of Rohan, who was alone at home, most of the time.

Day after day, Padma , his wife was sinking, there were intermittent moments of joy, like wisps of clouds in an Indian summer afternoon, when the doctor would convey that some positive signs were noticed, but overall the position was unchanged.

The clouds would vanish as mysteriously as they has appeared, no rain, no respite from the Indian summer.

It was probably the sixth day at the hospital, in the evening Dr Mukherjee asked to see him in his chamber.

With great trepidation, Shambhunath started walking towards the doctor’s chamber. The distance of about eighty or so feet was seemingly endless today. He could feel his legs trembling, almost as if they would give way.

Shambhunath was a deeply religious man, not one who visited the temple regularly or one who organized pujas, but religious in his own way. He had always followed a path of righteousness, a quality imbibed from his late father.

He was silently muttering the “Maha-Mrityunjay” mantra, his father had taught him when he was about eight or nine years old.

“Please come in Shambhunath ji” the doctor called out, even before he could knock on the door.

The doctor offered him a chair opposite him. “ These reports have just come in, and I am afraid, we are losing the battle.” He said.

He wrote something on a piece of paper and pushed it towards Shambhunath.

“ If you so wish, you could procure this medicine from the market, this will be our last effort, but I must tell you beforehand, there is no guarantee that it will work, and as the medicine is quite expensive, the decision is entirely yours.”

Shambhunath was a man of knowledge, he had an inkling, what the doctor would say, but to actually hear it, shattered everything, words failed him, several times he tried to speak something, but nothing came out.

“OK , doctor I will get the medicine and come right back to you.” Shambhunath finally said, rising from his chair.

He would try out the shops outside the Hospital, he thought. He reached the shops lined outside the Hospital, it was not a good sight, people jostling against each other to get the shopkeeper’s ear. The shopkeeper and his attendant were by and large apathetic to the plight of the people lined up to buy medicine. One man’s misery could actually be the reason for another one’s prosperity.

Shambhunath showed the piece of paper to the shopkeeper, who simply shook his head, signifying a no, without even caring to look at him.

He did the same thing at five or six shops, the result unchanged. As he was coming out of the last one, a man standing there beckoned him, “ Can I see that paper.” He asked.

Shambhunath took a serious look at him, a man in his late forties, ordinarily dressed, he had been a witness to many hospital “Battles” between persistent doctors and obstinate patients.

“Albumen Suspension!” he read out loudly. “ There is not much hope it seems, these doctors prescribe this medicine just to avoid admission of failure. It is so expensive , hardly anyone buys it.” He went on matter of factly- without benevolence or malice.

“ My advice, do not buy this medicine, it will only be a waste of money.” He said with authority.

“But I do want to buy it, only, I am not getting it anywhere, I have tried out all the shops here.” Shambhunath said.

“ You will only get it at the Jupiter Pharmacy, in the main market. But then you will have to make haste, as it is almost closing time now.”

Strange is the human mind, now Shambhunath was focused on reaching Jupiter Pharmacy quickly. He had forgotten his weariness, a new burst of energy seemed to be circulating inside him.

Shambhunath beckoned an auto-rickshaw, and without enquiring about the fare, asked the driver to drop him at the main market.

The auto-rickshaw dropped him on the road at the main market, Jupiter Pharmacy was a little farther down a lane. He was walking briskly now.

Even a few yards from Jupiter Pharmacy, he could see, it was closed.

Shambhunath felt disappointed, his thoughts went back to the City hospital and his ailing wife.

There was a Nepali watchman on the street, he came up to Shambhunath.

“ Are you looking for someone Saab?” he asked.

“ I had to get some medicine urgently.” Shambhunath said.

“ They have just closed the shop and left.” The watchman said. “ But if it is really urgent, you may go to their house in the next lane, they will come and give you the required medicine, they do it quite often.” The watchman added.

It was a bit difficult to believe, but Shambhunath was actually moving towards the next lane, there were a few people trying their hand at Badminton under the street lights, they happily guided Shambhunath to the house he was looking for.

Shambhunath pressed the call bell on the gate. A young man, very fair in complexion came out “ Yes! What can I do for you?” he asked.

“ Actually I am in urgent need of a medicine, and I was told that it is available in your shop.” Saying this Shambhunath pushed the piece of paper the doctor had given, through a gap in the gate.

The young man took a careful look at the paper, “ Please wait at the shop, we are coming in a moment.”

Shambhunath walked down to the preceeding lane and waited at the shop. The young man appeared a few minutes later, accompanied by a burly man.

They opened the shop immediately, one moved towards the refrigerator and took out a small vial and handed it over to Shambhunath.

“ How much?” Shambhunath asked.

“ Five thousand Three Hundred” the young man replied.

In a state of shock and disbelief, Sahmabhunath tried to take a look at the price printed on it, the price on the label was Five thousand Four hundred and fifty.

Even after adding up all the currency and coins he had on himself at that time, Shambhunath could only muster Three Thousand Eight hundred rupees.

“What’s the matter Sir?” The young fair complexioned man asked of Shambhunath.

“ I have only Three Thousand Eight hundred rupees right now, but you can keep my gold chain, I will take it back from you when I pay the remaining Fifteen hundred rupees.”

“ Sir you please take the medicine, and keep the gold chain, but remember to pay the remaining amount whenever you are free.” The young man said, and switched off the lights and prepared to lock the shop again and leave.

Shambhunath was speechless, such acts of kindness were rare, and could much be appreciated by someone who spent a lot of time at any Indian Hospital.

He handed over the prescribed medicine to the nurse on duty, and waited in the corridor outside, along with several other people whose relatives were in the ICU.

At around 3:30 am he heard a nurse call out his wife’s name, he went up to her and she conveyed the shattering news to him.

Shambhunath  felt a sudden weakness in his knees, they would give way, he was held right in time by a man who like him was waiting on a patient in ICU.

The house was crowded for the next 15 days or so, lot of rituals, pujas and feast.

But after the relatives had left, the enormity of the situation hit hard.

Padma had left a void that was impossible to fill.

Shambhunath started sending Rohan to school, he would prepare his breakfast and see him off, he would return home for a short break when Rohan returned from school.

His superiors in office co-operated with him in this matter, because Shambhunath was a great asset at the workplace.

This routine went on for another 3-4 years, till the time Shambhunath was convinced Rohan could take care of himself.

Rohan had joined a company in town as a software developer after he had finished his degree in computers from Bangalore.

He felt suffocated in this house, he could not call his friends over because of father, he had nothing much to do. His friends advised him to hire a flat so that he could enjoy more freedom, he had  refrained so far, but now something had to be done.

He returned home a few days later, Shambhunath sat down with him for tea that he prepared everyday after he returned from work.

“ Papa, I have rented a flat for myself and would be shifting, over the weekend.”

Shambhunath was dumb struck, but his face never betrayed his emotions, he said nothing, just nodded, finished his tea quickly and went away to pick up and read his favorite book “Shreemadbhagwatgita”.

Over the weekend Rohan shifted out taking with him only a suitcase and two bags.

On Monday morning Rohan was woken up by the alarm on his mobile, after brushing his teeth, he felt an urge for tea, but there was nothing in the house to make tea with.

As he was getting ready to leave for his office, he felt distractingly hungry.

“ I will have something at the canteen in the office”, he thought, as he was polishing his shoes.

The doorbell rang!

“Who could it be?” Rohan thought, maybe it’s the newspaperwallah, or the neighbor who had smiled at him when he was moving in.

He opened the door, and froze.

“I was hoping to catch up on you before you left for office.”

“I brought your breakfast” Shambhunath said, handing over the tiffin box to Rohan and turned to leave.

“Papa!” Rohan shouted.

He rushed forward and took hold of his father, tears rolling down his face, he hugged his father tightly for sometime and as he looked up to him, he saw something he had never seen, tears rolling down his father’s cheeks.

Office, work, software, deadlines………………………………………… seemed so irrelevant at this moment.