Just a little more time!

Just how ready are you to let go of someone whom you cant even think a second of to let go? And what if that farewell is for lifetime?

“God bless you son,” Dr Anurag tapped Dhruv’s hand lightly, avoiding any eye-contact as he made his way out of the room.

I stared at the needle punctured into the 9 year old’s vein, that carried a liquid all the way from a bottle hung a little above to the right. Momentarily his fragile hand shivered due to the unceasing pain that the needle inflicted. The hand that was supposed to have scratches from the playground had more needle marks than bare skin.
Dhruv slightly inclined his eyes to look at me. The oxygen mask, that had faithfully been his companion for the last few weeks, occasionally fogged from the vapour of his breath. His mother constantly held onto her son’s hand, making innumerable deals with the lord, anything to get her son out of this. She refused to give up, even though everyone had.

“Mr Ghosh!” Dr Anurag said jerking my shoulder, breaking me out of my delusion. “Did you hear what I said?”

I gave him a blank look. I didn’t even know what had happened in the last few minutes.

“Mr Ghosh, please come to my office. We need to talk.”

I looked at Angira to find her looking at me. We both knew what crossed our minds. I shifted my gaze down to the floor and walked out of the ICU.

 

“Please, have a seat,” Dr Anurag said, rolling up his sleeves, as I followed him into his office. “Water?”

I took the glass and slowly touched my lips against the cool liquid.
I could hardly remember the last time I ate or even drank something. I could hardly remember anything at all.
It’s said a person can survive three weeks without food and three days without water. But without hope, one can’t even survive three minutes. I had lost my hope a long time ago.

Dr Anurag sat on his chair and let out a deep sigh, “Mr Ghosh, there’s something you need to know. Your son doesn’t have much time. His condition is worsening every minute. The cancer is spreading fast. Now if we keep administering the chemo, all we will do is compromise with his ability to live longer. He won’t be able to tolerate it for long now.”

I didn’t know how to respond. Somewhere down in my heart, I knew I had given up the day the cancer returned back.
I silently gazed at the wall that proudly shined the doctor’s achievements.
Gold medallist from London University! Head of Cancer Department!

Yet all, one of the best doctor’s in the world, could do was to confine his chances upon God.

“Mr Ghosh, are you following me?” Dr Anurag asked, vaguely shaking his palm infront of my face to get my attention.

I nodded, looking away from the wall. I didn’t have much of an option. Sentences like ‘Can’t you do something?’ or ‘Please save my son’ ceased to have any significance in Dhruv’s situation.

“I know this is tough for you and your wife but you both have to be strong. Please help yourself. Dhruv’s body is opposing the chemo. It’s a matter of time before his heart stops.”

I closed my eyes, clenching my fist tightly. It felt like someone hit my head with an iron hammer. I could feel my breath getting heavy.

“You should be with him now. Spend as much time ……”

“Doctor, you know, when he was this five years old,” I interrupted, opening my eyes slowly. The doctor was taken aback at the sudden interruption.

 “One evening, all of us had been out to the market. My wife and I had been busy negotiating the vegetable prices when all of a sudden, there turns out to be a commotion in the streets. We turn around to find a child had nearly been missed from being hit by a car. As the crowd clears out, I realise it was my son. He just sat there in the middle of the road, cuddling a little puppy. Soon enough, Angira breaks into a panicking outburst of what he was doing exactly but all Dhruv had to say was, ‘I was protecting it. The car would have hit it, Ma.’

But the thing that amused me was why risking his life for just a puppy? So later at home, I ask him and he says, ‘Papa, they say at school that God exists in every living thing. So when someone needs help, we should always help them. Because god himself cannot come down to everyone, so he sent us to them.’

Those words! And he was just a five year old kid.

Today, the same kid lies in there with a dozen needles scavenging his blood. He can’t even breathe on his own. He’s simply drying out there, his health almost half of what he had been a month ago. He’s just waiting for his death, waiting to be killed by this f*****g incurable disease that had damned his life since the last two years.”

Dr Anurag lowered his eyes. His face showed the pain he had been going through for having been able to do nothing. Somehow, his profession had made him strong enough to not denote it through tears.

“And you know what the funny thing is doctor?” I stood up from the chair and walked up to the door, “This time, God didn’t feel the need to send anyone. He just let my son rot.”

 

Angira had been caressing Dhruv’s hair, as I walked in to the ICU. The bed sheet was covered with hairs that had fallen off his head. Patches of hair barely covered his round head.

Dhruv turned towards me as he heard my steps.

He strained his throat hard to bring out any word. I hurried up to him and sat by his side.

“What did doctor uncle say Papa? Am I going to die?” he whispered.

I turned towards Angira. Her swollen eyes had turned red due to constantly staying awake and crying.

I stayed silent. I didn’t have any words. I just brought his hand slowly close to my lips and kissed it softly, staring at him. My eyes wanted to get enough of him as long as possible. They wanted to watch those sweet lips curve into a smile. I just wanted my son back.

“Papa,” Dhruv squeaked.

I bent close to his face.

“You remember once you scolded me for losing some marks in my exam. I got very angry. You later always asked me about that pen which Ma gifted to you on your anniversary and I denied to know it. I broke it that day Papa. I didn’t want to lie to you. Is this why God is punishing me? I am sorry. I will never do anything like that, god promise. I just don’t want to die now, Papa. I want to live. Please!”

I couldn’t hold it any longer. I hugged my son tightly and broke down. I howled like a child.
I didn’t want to lose him. I couldn’t even think of living without him.

I pushed myself away from him and rushed out of the ICU, wandering helplessly throughout the corridor. Tears streamed down my cheeks. I begged to every passing doctor and nurse to save my son. I begged to everyone.

Everyone gazed at me sympathetically. I didn’t need sympathy, I needed my son.

“Please save my son,” I pleaded, wailing helplessly.

But all I got in return was sympathy. Nothing else.

 

“Arik!” a familiar voice stunned me from the back. I turned around.

Angira!

“Dhruv,” she cried, gasping for breath. “He’s suffocating.”

All of a sudden the earth felt like spinning a lot faster. My legs felt heavy. Everything around me blurred. I could instantly hear my son’s voice in my head. His face flashed near my eyes.

No. This can’t be it.

I rushed up to the ICU.

Dhruv’s chest inflated and deflated rapidly. He desperately clung on to the bed sheet, trembling vigorously.
Angira held him close to her chest, constantly rubbing his back.

I checked Dhruv’s wrist.

He’s losing pulse!

“Doctor…….please help,” the words faintly came out of my mouth.

Dhruv took deep breaths, the heart monitor severely losing the graph. His eyes widened as he clutched my arm tightly.

“Someone please call the doctor,” Angira cried, weeping uncontrollably.

“Son…..son, stay with me, look….look, am here, am with you,” I said. Tears streamed down my eyes.

He could hardly keep his eyes open.

No God. Please, not yet.

Dhruv tightened his grasp on my arm. His breath dragged sloppily, as he tried hard to open his eyes.

“Doctor,” Angira kept crying.

God, please don’t do this. I will do whatever you want. Please don’t take my son away from me.

Another heavy drag of breath.

Just a little more time, God. Just a little more.

“Papa,” Dhruv whispered. “I ……”

The heart monitor showed a straight line. I looked at my arm. My son’s hand no longer held me.

God had won after all.

And all I asked was Just a little more time.

Author's Note

Every opinion is appreciated.

Reviews

[Nidhi]

touching...really heart touching story👍

[Anindita Janhabee]

just kept weeping while reading the whole story... just kept weeping...
can't write any thing else in the review...
I'm sorry. hope my tears told u everything...