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 Arpita P

 

I'm alive!
I'm alive!

CRASH!

That was the last thing I wanted from my computer that fine Tuesday morning as I battled what I call Deadline Fever. Oh, how I hate deadlines! Is Software the only industry that suffers from them?

So urgent was my need that I remembered God, who I must confess I mostly take for granted. I mumbled a fervent prayer, asking Him to protect my comp from crashing again so that I could beat my deadline.

Soon I was on my Kinetic Honda, speeding for office. There I worked on and on, completely unaware of what was going around me -- till my ex-fiancé came online. Five wasted minutes chatting with him and I was ready to call it a day.

But what about the deadline? All deadlines are not meant to be met, are they? That thought released me from my shackles.

So there I was, again on my Kinetic, zooming away, blissfully ignoring everything on earth, including my deadline...

Crash!

That was me crashing into a divider, hit by a vehicle from behind.

When I opened my eyes, I was being wheeled into the Trauma and Casualty Ward of a corporate hospital. Oh God, what am I doing here? I would have been better off facing the trauma in office!

Some time later, lying in bed, with nothing to do, I started my introspection. I was looking for someone to blame. First in line, of course, was God. Then my stars, then my ex-fiancé, then the guy who hit me from behind, then...

My train of thoughts was broken by a cry from next door. Gingerly, I got out of my bed and made my way to the door.

In the next room was a little girl, about 10 years old. Her legs were swathed in bandages. Her cute face looked somehow odd beneath a hairless head. Chemotherapy was the culprit; she had been operated upon for a tumour in her leg, I learnt.

I was at a loss. Who was to blame for the little girl's misfortune?

I looked into another room to see a young man raving. There was an old lady by his bed. His mother? No, his kindly neighbour.

I was told he was a high-flying executive, who had met with a really bad road accident. He was still not in his mind because of a head injury. He had no one to take care of him except his neighbour.

I was also told about another patient in the same ward. He was leaving -- because he couldn't afford the hospital's exorbitant bill.

Back in my bed, I was not the girl I was half an hour ago. I couldn't find anything to complain about. Rather, I found so many things to be thankful for.

I was thankful I had not broken any bone, thankful I had my parents to look after me, thankful I had an insurance company to pay my bills.

But more than anything else I was thankful to be alive -- so what if there were more deadlines to meet?

Arpita P is back at her race against time.

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