Barter

Annie woke up from his light sleep after getting incoming from the reception that a pregnant lady had met with an accident and was in a critical state.

 

The nurse briefed on the phone as he ran for the lift on the seventh floor. The injured had a car accident and her womb had been hurt hard with profuse internal bleeding. He instructed to shift the patient to Operation Theatre. It would be difficult to save both, mother and child, something he had learned from experience. He dialed the number of another doctor on duty to assess the situation and simultaneously pressed first-floor switch.

 

Dr. Anhaya Kapoor was the cherry among the lot, known by a more popular name among his breed-Annie.

 

An upbeat guy in early thirties with a faded beard. He was the senior resident doctor at Brighton’s Medical Research and Science Institute, a prestigious hospital in South Delhi. A hospital founded by his father, who passed away six months ago, Dr. Jagdish Kapoor.

 

Annie’s brain was as good his face that bruised the hearts of many. He was considered one of the best in the profession a talent he had inherited as genes from his father. His father had been the best surgeon in the country, a favorite among politicians and businessmen who traveled in a private aircraft often for holidays.

Annie wasn’t a spoilt brat at all but had a deal in the closet that constituted of everything considered unethical.

 

He smoked pot, pee-ed on streets, drank abruptly, had a thing for madly kissing his dates in the parking lots. He chased a cop once till the end of the capital border! Annie could play the flute with ease; spoke French and Latin without stuttering. He was a state level swimmer. Rich, smart, fancy looking, a persona other guys wished to be and girls got lured to was Annie. All this charisma was sadly shadowed after he got married to a girl his father chose for him. This was another feather of burden. He loved his dad too much to keep dating Meera; the girl he loved passionately- his lifelong desire.

 

They had met at a bar at the Inner Circle in Connaught Place, just next to the coffee house.

 

Meera’s sleeveless blue dress could just kiss her knees! She came for her friend's breakup party, and he was there … coz, he was there most of the times. She was a jingle writer for an upcoming ad work agency who always carried a sweet tone in her laughter. That laughter eventually made the doctor lost his heart. He could never express accurately the love he felt in his heart for her with his multi-lingual skills but she could read it in his eyes. They were the most handsome couple in the circuit without a penny space between them!

 

A decade later, he was playing high.

 

When on a game night his dad asked him to marry the daughter of a family friend he held high regards for. His father has just recovered from the second heart surgery. However,  he could feel a lot more pain agreeing to his father’s request, the pain of a poisoned heart! Meera and Annie spent their last night together speechless, just holding hands. He made love to her like never before and cried as she led him to the door in the morning, kissing- a final goodbye. Eight weeks from his wedding date his dad passed away. Annie felt deserted without the two people he loved.

 

Annie lost the desire for life and spent most of his day hours in hospital after the marriage.

Everybody knew his story but no one ever whispered in those hallways or canteens!  The times were not the same; he was more of an enigma now, never indulging in his old misadventures. The lift reached the first floor and Annie ran out from the half open door and lurched toward the operation theater. Attendant doctor submitted the summary of the report confirming the urgency of the surgery. He wore his latex gloves and entered the operation theater where the proceeding had already begun.  Sphygmomanometer showed a continuous drop in blood pressure due to excessive blood loss.

 

Annie completed the caesarean and saved the child.

 

The mother’s heart had unfortunately stopped beating midway the surgery! The beats didn’t bounce back by the defibrillator. The failure- the silence of losing the mother was broken by the first cry of the child! Annie took the child in his hands and felt a resemblance in the touch and couldn’t stuff away that instant love for the child! He went through the patient information sheet to sign off the document and read the mother’s name -‘Meera’. 

His eyes blurred as he waddled out of the room with his daughter in the arms.

 

Author: Muflis Musafir

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Love of the First Degree

Mush! That squiggly, warm, overflowing, chocolatey, intoxicating Mush! When the effervescent dewy eyes lit lamps of the heart! Ahh! That murderous feeling of the wrenching gut of jealousy! That deluge of longing that drowned hours of night’s slumber.

 

That special Mush!

 

Social Psychologist from The University of Lancashire, Dr. Gayle Brewer wrote in an article published in The Guardian, “Why We Can Never Recover From First Love” has mentioned how first Mush or Love sets unrealistic expectations in future relationships. He goes on to describe how Romantic Love isn’t a one-time phenomenon, however, it might be very different from the first experience of ‘being in love’. The reason is that as we grow older, our experiences change and so does our feelings in similar situations.

 

But honestly, come to think of it, is it possible to forget the first time you got drenched in a downpour unexpectedly? Is it plausible to not recall the first time you scored surprisingly well in an examination or won an award that you were not anticipating? Will you ever forget the first drink, the first time you bunked classes, the first time you rode your bicycle, the first pet, the first car, the first slap from your parent? Firsts are always The First.

 

The feeling could be stronger for something else or someone the next time, but still the original experience will stand as the yardstick to judge the next experience.

 

So, how is it likely that love will be any different? You might end up finding your soul mate after the first heartbreak or romantic disaster, but that will be the foremost time you were guilty of being in love with someone else more than yourself. It was the earliest time you felt the pangs of pain, the utmost instance when your heart actually overgrew your body and replaced the little place between your lung- Yes! That awesome breathlessness!

 

Affirmative! That absolutely, amazing, ravenous, dreamy, perfect feeling that has you committed for life. To love- to give- to be for someone more than for yourself- that wonderful amnesia of thudding unconsciousness where the earth revolves in a zigzag motion of hmmm. No! When the earth dances harder than you do when the sky smiles the largest cumulus cloud, the sun simmers its most romantic rays, the trees sway in silent melody, the sweet green grass carpets the feet of your loved one- Ahh!

 

That most atrociously perfect, the superlative of all superlatives First Love! The Mush! The Love Of The First Degree!

 

Author: Kleio B'wti

 

 

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