I don’t believe in GOD
I don’t believe in GOD
A burst of bullets hit my father and shattered my life. I was 17 years 04 months 19 days old. A day after the last rituals of my father, my mother complained of a lump in her left breast. I got her check-up done. She was diagnosed with breast cancer.
A day was fixed for her operation. All close family members and friends should be there with us. My elder sister, brother-in-law and their three kids. This was all; I had in the name of close ones.
The operation started in the evening. At around 8pm, a doctor came out of the operation theatre,” We need 2 units of blood.” Being in a good hospital in a good city, I never expected this type of statement. Being an Engineer student, I replied, “You should take it from your blood bank”. “We are short of AB(-)ve, you arrange yourself”. I was AB(+), sister A(+) and brother-in-law’s group was also not matching, kids were too small. “Should I go to Red Cross.”This was my next intelligent solution. “We’ve already checked with them. They don’t have. Please hurry up. We are losing her”.
It was just another patient for a doctor, but how could I lose her? I had not learnt how to live without father and now within 15 days live without mother also, No way. I asked the doctor to guide. He was generous, he told me to check up with rickshaw pullers, outside the hospital. Now I was enquiring from the Rickshaw pullers about the rarest Blood group. Thank GOD, one was there. He took out his GOOD clothes and shoes from beneath the rickshaw seat and we were going towards blood bank. Charges were discussed clearly on the way.
“You donated yesterday or day before also, didn’t you?”, furiously asked the lab attendant and he nodded, keeping his eyes away from me. My last hope was shattered. What next?
I was running out of hospital, with eyes full of tears (how can a 17 year old boy cry).I looked up on the summery, dark but starry sky. “Ki ho gya, kaka?”(What happened, lad?). A dark skinned, 5 feet queer looking sardar was asking me. I didn’t want to reply, why should I? “My mother is being operated. Doctor asked for blood, I have no-one. The only rickshaw-puller, I got, was rejected. I don’t know what to do?” (Asking for help would be below dignity). His next question, “What is the blood group?”. I think, at this question, I dropped a tear saying, “AB(-)ve”. “Don’t cry boy. I am also AB negative. Let’s go to blood bank” (all in Punjabi).
I was speechless, spellbound. He donated blood. Being young and egoistic, I said,” Thank you, what are your charges”. “It’s okay, boy. Go to your mother,” he said, patting my back and went away……
I don’t believe in GOD, I feel HIS existence.
Khushdeep Singh Walia
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