I AM STILL ON STAIRS OF THE HOSPITAL

‘Come here’ teacher called me. I was in the middle of sweeping the classroom, as the day was my turn. ‘Your brother is not well’ the teacher said. My memories were rolling around the stairs of hospital, where I used to walk with him. He has suffered a lot in this short span of two and half years.

One day my grandfather came to the hostel and took me with him. My grandfather was a religious scholar who shared his love equally for all of us. He took me to Calicut, on the way he told me many stories, I do not remember the things he shared, although each point shared by him was valuable for me. As we reached Calicut, went to Calicut Medical College where my brother was admitted. I met my father and uncle. Brother was in ICU, so I could not see him. After spending couple of hours, I returned with grandfather. Following days were of Bakrid vacation.

It was first Eid without my parents. They were in hospital with brother. I and my younger sister were in mother’s home. There, we were happy although absence of beloved remained as a pain. After two days the great news came, brother has discharged. But it will be night to reach home after completing official procedures. By 06:00 PM we got the information that they will reach Manjeri by 08:00 PM.

We changed our dresses and packed, sat on the bus to Manjeri. There one uncle was waiting for us. We joined the uncle and waited to reach the bus from Kozhikkode (Calicut). The bus reached and Mother, Father, Brother and other relatives came down. We were at peak of happiness. There was no more autorickshaw to go to home. At some distance saw an auto curtained as there was rain.

My father talked to driver, he was one of his familiar person form circle of drivers, my father was also an auto driver. We sat on the auto and started our journey to home. Outside there was little rain, inside of the auto was filled with music of doll phone in hand of my brother, and minds were overflowing for happiness of meeting beloved persons. In my life there is no any trip as memorable as this, which is short in term of distance, time and vehicle, but the emotions it passed still shake my heart, and tears fall from my eyes.

It has passed months after all these events. But now the teacher say he is not well! The teacher sent me home with two senior students. On the way to home I was thinking about the brother. I remembered the night before I came to hostel. He was not interested to eat food. Mother was telling him: ‘please have your favourite fish, please eat the food’. But he even rejected to eat fish. He was silent and I tried to make him happy, but he was not smiling. Tide of thought was beating my head. 

I reached home, some relatives were there. All were silent. I rushed to room, there I saw my brother, he was laying on a bed, my mother was next to him with a dish and spoon. Mother put water on his lips, he slowly drinks it. He was not talking, looking, or even moving his hands and legs. Seeing that situation was not possible. I also sat beside him. My father came and said: ‘oh… your brother has came’, there was no response. Mother used to put water and he drank it slowly, but no other expressions were there. This continued for hours and by evening he couldn't drink a single drop and he said goodbye to all of us! Still, I am with him as he is in my hand and I am on the stairs of hospital playing with him.