An Arranged Affair

Untitled Part 59

The pundit chanted as he offered water, flowers, rice and fruit to the deity of the god Shiva but as the rituals continued my mind was blank yet racing at the same time.

It hurt.

Everything hurt.

My head hurt.

My body hurt.

But most of all, my heart hurt.

The events of the last 24 hours were a blur, a scattered memory of a night that should have been unforgettably magical, now bittersweet Papa now lying in a coma in a hospital bed.

24 hours ago my biggest concern was an exam I had to pass.

24 hours my life was simple.

But in 24 hours I had become a woman overnight – and almost lost the most important man in my life at the same time.

In 24 hours my world had collapsed around me.

I wished the pooja would hurry up and end. I didn't want to be here, I wanted to be back with Papa, but Mumma insisted and as the pundit and Mumma offered flowers and rice to the gods, I felt my faith in them faltering.

Papa didn't deserve to be lying in an induced coma.

He was a strong proud man, how could the gods, that I had worshiped my entire life allow for something so cruel to happen? Without him, we were nothing.

I watched the pundit and my mother, my eyes not seeing.

I heard the chants, the mantras, my eyes not hearing.

And where once, I held my religion, my faith my gods so close, I endured the ceremony without feeling.

Until a warm hand enclosed my own clammy one and I was broken from my daze by Phillip.

He had been wonderful, weathering the trials of the past 24 hours in a stride and I had been so caught up in my own grief, I hadn't paid him any consideration, and I wondered for a moment if he would take it all back.

He had been so quiet all morning, constantly stepping aside to make calls or answer messages. I felt so guilty, he would have had to cancel an entire day of meetings and work, and it was for Papa.

the car ride to the hospital was awfully silent, no one said anything, you could barely hear anyone breathing and my thoughts were far away. Papa had cancelled his health insurance policy after his last heart attack - we couldn't afford the increased premiums, how were we going to afford things this time?

But as the car drove unfamiliar roads, my heart nearly stopped as we pulled up in front of a very impressive building.

' St George's Private Hospital', the 3d neon lit up sign read.

My heart started racing and my mind was in a daze.

Papa!

Had something happened to him?

I practically pushed my brother out of the passenger's seat to get out of the car.

"Phillip – why are we here?' I yelled, fearing the worst had happened.

"Tori! Relax! You dad is fine! I promise!" he said he pulled me into his arms and wiped the tears from my face –I hadn't even realized that I had started crying again.

"I discussed all this with Maa Ji last night! I had Papa transferred here last night as soon as he was stable enough."

'But he just had surgery last night! he was barely stable when we left?"