Life in a Metro

Deepali looked around and felt the silence getting louder by the second. People just sat there, lost in their own worlds. The boy on the far corner was swaying slightly to his own music, the woman sitting not that far away from him seemed to be checking and rechecking her bags, the man who preferred to stand in spite of the fact that there were enough seats to sit on, perhaps enjoying the steady rhythm of life as the metro raced on the tracks, the city blurring as it went. An year ago she would have probably enjoyed looking at all these facets of life as people hurried in and out of the car, trying to reach someplace and more importantly trying to run away from somewhere. She knew it to be true…knew why people seemed always in a hurry…Prateek had once mentioned it to her.

“They are not running to…they are running from…”

And he had been right. The man who preferred to stand was running away from the stillness in his life, the woman from thinking about more pressing issues, the boy from the very presence of people around him. And she…today she wondered what she was running from. And she knew…after a long time she was not running from…she was running to. Shards of voices kept intruding her thoughts.

“What is wrong with you?” the voice of a concerned friend or a man who loved her beyond measure?

“I wish I knew…but…” her own feeble voice as she tried to steady herself, but the nausea was ever increasing.

“Visit a doctor Deepali…you don’t look that great!”

Metro seemed to be slowing down with the rally of her thoughts now. A kind soft voice floated in…a voice that had somehow sounded rude at that instance. Rude…yes…how easy it had been for her…

“Deepali…you’ve got a tumor…a growth of sorts…”

“Excuse me?”

The woman had sighed and forwarded a series of reports towards her.

“It’s not growing…but the increasing amount of nausea suggests that it is unstable and could burst open or perhaps press against an all important nerve and cripple you for life…”

The metro jerked to a halt as people poured out. The voice vanished and she stared at the door that closed against the world again, imprisoning her to those thoughts that somehow seemed to mock her, shake the threads of her very soul.

“We can’t operate on it…”

“There are no guarantees Deepali…I can’t promise the chemo would help…the headaches are increasing?”

“How long before?” her voice shook and heart thudded wildly in her chest.

“Maybe 2 months…6…an year, 2 years. We can’t truly pinpoint…”

The metro raced through the city and her eyes could see the drifting roads as they crossed beneath. Lines of cars stood waiting patiently or perhaps not so patiently.

The man’s face loomed in her past; the lines of evident misery creased the forehead.

“Surely…something can be done…you can’t just…its…”

“Yes Prateek something can be done…something I wish to do before I…” her voice seemed to thicken in her throat and the man looked at her, his eyes dark pools of misery.

“You are not…”

“Before I die. I wish to be your wife…”

Prateek looked at her with anguish written all over his face.

“You love me so much?”

She laughed a hollow sound that echoed in her brain.

“No you dimwit. I hate you and wish to see you all miserable…”

Tears flowed then and she felt him walk up to her and press her face against his heart. It was after a while she realized he was crying too…

“I won’t let you die…I can’t.” Empty promises, her heart whispered and whimpered in fresh agony as a new wave of nausea hit her insides, sending shudders down her spine.

Deepali stood up, her feet light as she exited the compartment. It was not her destination still and she walked away to the platform, and waited. The car moved and she stared and heard the slow rumble as it drifted away from her. Life was all about moving from one to another, shifting tracks.

“What is it Deepali?” Prateek’s voice held the irritation and despair of a man who was fighting…against time and will.

“I am pregnant.” She sighed and a smile lighted his face.

“That’s great…”

His eyes seemed to register the tears that had welled up in hers.

“Would I be able to live long enough to…”

Her eyes focused back to the car that moved on to the platform now and she followed the small group of people inside, felt the door slide shut behind her. She was on her way back home…

“Deepali…I can’t explain. This is perhaps why we still believe in miracles.” The rude voice had transformed…the car was alive again; voices from corners seemed to invade her privacy as her heart felt the jolt. She could still feel the way Prateek’s hand had tightened over her arm.

She smiled a benign smile.

“Your child seems to be doing what we were not able to do. Your tumor is receding. We can’t explain why. The miracle of child birth is still a miracle…We know that child birth prevents a woman’s body from various forms of cancers…as to how precisely we know not.”

“What are you trying to say doctor?” she had cut her short, too scared to hope.

“I am saying that you have all the reasons to smile Deepali. The last five months have sent the oncologists on a spree…I have never felt this excited in my entire career…Your tumor is as good as gone…it seemed to have shrunk as your baby grew in your womb…First time a child practically gave birth to her mother…”

“Her?”

Tears seemed to have struck the dam of lashes as her vision blurred again.

“She is a healthy baby. But remember Deepali…Any renewed symptoms should be immediately brought to our notice…and regular check ups.”

The car sped down the track, bringing her ever so close to her destination. Her head seemed to swing back and forth with the momentous rhythm of the metro car. Three years of blissful marriage…Mannat’s second birthday…and the unsettling nausea had come calling again.

“I am coming with you…”

“No…please Prateek. Its Mannat’s big day…I would take the metro. Seriously…”

Her heart glided back to the present as she distinctly felt her own fingernails dug into her flesh, the paper still clutched in her hands. The nausea was calling again…the head lightheaded, heart peaceful. She was not running from anything anymore…she was running back home.

The station seemed to arrive before she could wipe her tears away. He stood there, his eyes seeking her face for answers and he seemed to clutch Mannat closer than ever to his heart. She simply handed him the paper and held on to Mannat. Tears welled up inside his eyes and he let them fall.

The train was leaving the station, inching away to help people reach where they wished to go. Deepali walked out of the station and heard the metro leaving the platform in a gush. A journey of hardly 30 minutes and she had lived a lifetime…

A broken voice seemed to glide in…

“Deepali…there is absolutely nothing.”

“But the nausea doctor…”

She had smiled then and looked at the woman, her eyes warming instantly.

“It is precisely just that…nausea…your urine sample confirmed…hope it’s a boy this time…”

Authors note:

It is purely fiction and though medically not impossible...never heard of at least. I wish to thank Deepak with all my heart...his post just inspired this small story. Hope I lived up to your expectations!

Nocturnal

"The winds are changing..." Deepanita sighed, her voice barely a whisper and audible only to Karan who sat next to her, blissfully lost in his own reverie. She looked at him from the corner of her eye and smiled at the way his muscles stretched across his jaw whenever he took a deep drag of his cigarette. He felt her stare at him and on a delayed note seemed to hear what she had uttered for he smiled back and quirked a lazy eyebrow.
"Getting philosophical...are we?"
"Nah...just trying to get poetic and a bit romantic."
He stretched his leg over the stairs in front and leaned back, supporting his elbows on the step above to straighten out his back a bit.
"So...tell me something...why do you think I should believe you when you say that you love me?"
She looked at his stretched form and felt a certain playfulness stealing over her.
"Oh please don't believe me for a single moment for I would tell you very honestly Karan...I do not love you at all."
"That...my love...I am aware of."
Deepanita smiled and looked at her watch, a frown creased her forehead.
"My cab would be arriving shortly."
"It's only for a month you know..." he said, understanding the frown and she nodded.
"But this sucks Karan. Imagine the utter helplessness of the situation...the only place I can truly meet my husband is when he is getting ready to start his shift and I have ended mine!"
"Deepa..."
"Oh I know...its a job and we both knew what it meant and all that jazz. It just feels awful that's all."
Karan nodded and moved his hand over his wife's shoulder, reassuringly.
"Once I get the promotion, then maybe you would not need to stay in this job you know..."
"And then do what? Sit around and marinate in the house?" Deepanita was suddenly angry and she knew she was being difficult at this time But she hated going back to an empty house. She had been the one to agree to marriage so soon, had said they would adjust. But...she wanted a normal life, a life where you got up with the sun and cuddle up in a warm bed at night, think about a family...but she was stuck...stuck in a life that meant no sunshine. She could get a day job...Karan had told her he was completely ok with it but that would mean never truly meeting him for his shifts were mostly during the night. Call Centers at least gave her the priveledge to be with him for a longer duration of time. Except for the month like this one.
"Deepa...I am not changing my job. I like it here and we are earning way better than most people who work the conventional 9 to 5. And Besides..."
My cab's here." Deepanita said moodily and got up. She heard Karan sigh and stand up behind her but made no attempt to follow her to the cab. He could not pacify her and knew her too well to know she would come to terms with it. some times, he thought ruefully, he really did wonder wasn't there a real difference in this life and the life people usually led? He kept telling people that there was no difference as such...just the times they acknowledged. And time was different for different. He saw her getting in the cab and leaving and stared at the sky, a deep shade of indigo, a lazy cloud hugged the moon around the edge. He like it like this...he liked the quiet murmur of life rather than the loud horns. So what if people referred to him as nocturnal...he liked it like this. And Deepanita would understand, he thought and smiled as he picked out another cigarette from his pack.