The First Light

 It was past midnight. She stood there in full light seeing her patient slipping into unconsciousness for the last time. She knew it was time. The 10-year-old girl had gone through a lot – her past years in pain and grief. She held the scalpel in her gloved hands and nodded to her assistants as they worked on machines that monitored her vitals. A streak of sweat passed down her forehead as she looked at the clueless face, wondering if she could ever see her smile again. Her brain was undeterred on the task at hand, but her mind pulled down with the armour of clothes she put on. It was going to be a 4-hour long Craniotomy and a delicate one. Her mind raced back as her assistants cut away a piece of her skull. Her hand manoeuvred and guided itself, thanks to the years of practice, without much thinking. She could feel her blood pulsing through her veins and her feeble heart beating as if it wanted to free itself from the earth-bound body – the thing she dreaded most.

She tethered herself on that sound, focused on not letting the sound die. As she pushed back the nerves delicately, blood pulsed smudging the area of inflammation just like the flooding in her eyes. She pulled herself back, ‘ No, now is not the time ’, she reminded herself, ‘ This is a fight that she is going to win. No more dreadful nights ’. Time floated by as the wingless angels hurried on their mission of keeping the girl off from her eternal sleep.

*****

“If she makes it through the night, the girl will live”, she called out pushing open the doors of the operation theatre.

People walked hurriedly across the aisle, more than usual as a bomb blast had moved a dozen more children in the only hospital in the whole town. Surgeons, nurses ran here and there taking in instruments and meds, answering the wailing of their patients’ relatives. Sure there were more patients than doctors and the facilities too less. Only a few critical ones were taken in first and that too, who could make payments, unlike the girl she just treated. She weaved through crowds and the ruckus till she reached the age-old receptionist table.

“Did you find any records of her?”, she looked at the lone receptionist almost buried in her work.

“None, chief surgeon”, she voiced over her complaining client as her pager beeped.

“Op-3”, it read as she ran again to the other theatre to save another life. The building, the people, the whole world was a blur as she thought about the people trying to kill just so their voices could be heard in contrast to them working hard to undo their damage. Immense hatred flooded as her adrenaline pumped to save yet another case. As she turned through the dilapidated building, a heavy smash thrashed her to the edge of the wall. There were screams and wails as her ears responded to the sudden ambush of men and her eyes opened to the faces of terrorists with blood streaking down her face.

“Get down”, rough hands pushed her down and the tip of the gun lowered her head.

Four to Five men surrounded the premises keeping various random people hostage.

“Nobody moves” the man with the gun on her head barked. Her pager beeped again “Op 3 – Vitals critically low”

‘ Oh god! That person’s going to die ’, her mind raced, even in the face of imminent death, her soul couldn’t let another person die.

“What’s that? Are you calling the cops?”, the tip of the gun hit hard at the back of her head increasing the bleeding.

“No no. A patient is in danger. I need to go”, she gritted her teeth with pain.

“Nobody leaves”, the man’s voice rang in her ear, “You understand”

Just then a nurse came running from Operation Theatre-3. Before she could call out, the man holding her hostage, shot the nurse down. Her cry joined with the chorus of screams wailed throughout the room.

Her heart fluttered rapidly witnessing the death of her colleague. ‘ When they spend hours trying to save lives, how could they kill people just like that? ’, her brain questioned, ‘ They will repent for their actions ', she believed. But now, she had to work – do something. She stood, her legs trembling, her body shuddering partly because of her empty stomach and mostly because of the unrestrained blood and said, “Excuse me, sir! I am not calling the cops. But a person is dying out there and I need to do my duty”, she stood firmly on the ground.

The man turned – his eyes blank, a black mask wrapped over his mouth, unkempt hair and age-old clothes. He looked no older than 20 but his skinny hands wrapped around the gun so hard as if his life depended on it. He looked like a clueless person, just doing what he is doing without meaning to or more without the need to. His eyes shrunk as he mockingly laughed at her.

“You go and save him, but another person dies here”

“You don’t have to do this, you know. We are all the same people. You don’t know the worth of life”, she answered back loudly. Her voice sounded confident yet strange even to herself.

“Well, I don’t care”, he said kicking the dead nurse with his feet. Then as he turned towards the operation theatre, his visage changed. His hands trembled, his head shuddered as he called, “Abbu”.

He rushed in as he saw his brother growing pale by the minute. “Hey you”, he commanded, “Come save him. He’s dying”, he called between shuddered breaths.

She didn’t retaliate even for a second, though her forehead was bleeding profusely. She wrapped a cloth tightly across the wound while rushing in. As she prepared for stabilizing the patient, the look on his face ghosted her mind. She called back without looking at him, “I need more people to help”

He didn’t retort. “Please”, she could feel the guilt in his voice.

*****

The lightened sky shone out the window. As she came out, people were out normal. The people holding guns had put them in a corner and sat with their faces hung low. The fact that the blast caused by them had cost someone so dear was ravaging in their hearts.

She closed in the distance and said, “He’ll live”

The man couldn’t raise his head nor utter a word. A tear sparked down from the corner of his eye. He was realizing his mistake.

She spoke to him, “It was just one relative for you. But all the attacks you have done so far, do you realize how many families you have torn apart?”

Their heads hung lower as if burned by the question. They were not even worthy of apologizing.

A minute passed as silence surrounded them as the man shouldered some spirit to speak up, “I know saying ‘Sorry’ wouldn’t cover it. But I beg you to punish us in any way you want.”

She contemplated him for a second, “Punishing you won’t change a thing. See all these people? They are all victims of your actions. Change one life, straighten the damage. That would only calm your minds”

Just then the receptionist called, “Chief. The girl has woken up. But...”

“But?”

“I don’ think she’ll have anyone”

Silence hovered the place. “See? This is what you have done. Orphaned a 10-year-old girl for no crime of hers”, heat boiled in her face, “Can you undo that? Can you get back her family”, her voice raised and tears rolled by without meaning to.

His heart heaved with each accusation of hers but he couldn’t talk back for all that was true. He knew he would be caught by the police or may even die in the middle. But if he lived, he made it a point to at least try to get these people their lives back.

“No”, his sudden answer took her back. “But I have to atone for my sins first. I can’t guarantee that I could undo all my actions. But I promise I will try to change at least one of their lives. Till then take care of them as you always do”

The other four joined, “Yes we too will join help repair the damage”

A small smile peeked at the edge of her lips. She felt like she had achieved something. The sun peeped up outside the windows, beautiful and tranquil, and she could see a sun rising in them too as the man headed out bathing in the stream of the sun’s first rays.

*****