Memories

9

Rahul

The early morning silence in my room was shattered by the shrill ring of my phone. I groaned, rubbing my eyes and blinking away the remnants of sleep. Reaching for my bedside table, I squinted at the screen. Shivani 's name flashed insistently.

"Hello, Shivani. What's wrong?" I asked, trying to mask the sudden unease creeping into my chest.

"Rahul... where's Kar? I can't reach his phone. He was supposed to be here by now." Her voice trembled slightly, and I could hear the tension laced through every word.

My stomach tightened. I knew he had told me last night that he wanted to see her, even though I had tried to stop him. "Wait... didn't he say he was coming to meet you?" I asked, trying to keep my voice calm.

"Yes... but he hasn't reached yet," she replied, her panic seeping into the line. My heart sank. Their hostel is barely a ten-minute drive from our house. He should have been there by now.

I promised her I'd find out immediately. "Shivani, don't panic. I'll call you as soon as I know where he is. Just wait for me, okay?"

She sniffled on the other end, trying to stay calm, but I could hear her fear. "Okay... Rahul, please hurry."

I hung up and immediately started dialling Karthik's number. One attempt... two... three... still unreachable. My mind raced, trying to picture every possible reason he hadn't arrived, but none made sense.

Without wasting another second, I grabbed my car keys and rushed out. The engine roared to life as I navigated the early morning streets, my pulse pounding with every passing second. My phone buzzed, and I answered it mid-drive.

"Hello? Kar? Where the hell are you, man? Do you know how worried Shivani and I are?" I shouted, gripping the wheel tighter.

A strange voice answered. "Sir, the owner of this phone met with an accident on the highway. I am calling this number because this was the last dialled number in his phone."

My heart dropped into my stomach. "Wait... did you say accident?" My voice shook as I tried to process the words. "Where are you now?"

"We're at Renai Hospital, sir. Please hurry—we'll be waiting for you here," the voice replied calmly.

The world seemed to blur around me as I pressed the accelerator harder. Every red light, every passing car felt like it slowed down time. I snatched my phone with one hand and dialled Shivani.

"Shivani... listen to me. Don't panic. Kar... he's had an accident. He's at Renai Hospital. I'm on my way, okay?" I tried to keep my voice steady, but I could hear the panic creeping in anyway.

Her cries on the other end were heartbreaking. "Oh my god... Rahul! Is he... is he alive?"

"Yes, Shivani. He's alive. I promise. Just... stay calm. I'll be there," I reassured her, though my own thoughts raced faster than I could speak.

The hospital loomed ahead, sterile and imposing under the early morning lights. I parked hastily and dashed inside, my shoes echoing against the tiled floor.

At the reception, I almost barked, "I need to see the accident case admitted here! Name... Karthik Veer Singha!"

The receptionist frowned but nodded, then whispered, "He's in the operation theatre."

My stomach dropped. Operation theatre... Oh god... oh god... I sprinted down the hall, nearly colliding with nurses and doctors. At the door of the theatre, I met a young woman, her face pale, holding a phone tightly in her hands.

"Sir... I'm Gopi. I was driving home from work when I saw him lying there... blood everywhere. His pulses were dropping, so I called an ambulance. They brought him straight here," she explained, her voice shaking slightly.

I felt a surge of gratitude mixed with guilt. "Thank you, Gopi. I... I can't thank you enough."

"You're welcome, sir," she said quietly, giving me a small, reassuring nod.

After what felt like an eternity, the surgeon emerged from the theatre. "He's stable for now, but we can only say more once he wakes up," the doctor said gravely.

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. Time seemed frozen. I could only pace, waiting, replaying every moment of Karthik's accident in my head—the blinding headlights, the crash, the helplessness.

Shivani arrived not long after, flanked by Anjali. She sank into a chair outside the theatre, hands clasped, tears streaming silently. Anjali hovered nearby, trying to calm her down, murmuring soothing words, but Shivani was inconsolable.

"What have you done, Kar?" Shivani whispered brokenly, gripping her bag so tightly her knuckles were white. "How could you do this to me?"

I stayed close, resting a hand gently on her shoulder. "Shivani... it's not his fault. He couldn't have known. He's safe now. That's all that matters."

She shook her head, sobbing, and I could feel her heart breaking. I wanted to tell her everything would be okay, but I knew we had to wait. And the waiting was unbearable.

Later, I insisted Shivani and I took her home to freshen up. Walking through the front door, I froze. Our grandmother stood in the living room, her eyes sharp and suspicious.

"Where have you been all night?" she demanded, her voice trembling slightly with worry.

I felt the weight of truth crashing down. I couldn't lie. Not this time. My voice cracked as I explained everything—the phone calls, Kar leaving to meet Shivani, the accident on the highway, the ambulance, and finally, the hospital.

Her eyes widened as I spoke. Tears started to stream down her face, and she demanded we go immediately to the hospital. Without thinking, I agreed, grabbing my car keys.

The car ride back to Renai was tense and quiet, the only sound the soft hum of the engine and our collective heartbeat.

We reached Renai Hospital, and I rushed straight to the reception again. "Karthik Verma—accident case. I need to see him!"

The nurse gave me a nod and led us quickly toward the ICU. Every step felt heavy, every second stretched endlessly. When we arrived, Grandma's hands gripped my arm as if letting go would break her completely.

I stayed close to her, my own emotions restrained, while she sat outside the ICU, silently crying. I whispered reminders that he was alive, that we'd wait together, but her trembling shoulders betrayed her fear.

I had always known Kar was reckless in small ways, but seeing him like this—helpless on a hospital bed, dependent on strangers to survive—was like a punch to the chest. I realized then the weight of responsibility I carried, not just for him, but for Shivani too. She was utterly vulnerable right now, and I had to be strong for both of them.

I glanced at Shivani, her face streaked with tears, and knew that this night would be etched in her memory forever. Her love for Kar was fierce and consuming, and I could only hope he would wake soon so they could be reunited.

Gopi had left after answering all my questions, but I thanked her repeatedly before she finally nodded and left. I took a deep breath and looked at Shivani.

"Shivani," I said softly, "he's stable. He's alive. That's the first step. Now we wait for him to wake up."

She nodded, burying her face in her hands. I rested a hand on her back, rubbing slowly, trying to offer comfort.

In moments like this, words felt useless. Only presence mattered. And so, we waited.