Signs.

Late last evening, i decided i would do this. Blog about the accident, and my reactions to it.

At 2 a.m on the 27th, i got a missed call from A and called her back. Hesitatingly - because she wasn't thrilled about waking me up that late (or early, depending on how you look at it) - she told me that R had met with an accident at around 10:30 p.m. Ro was with him, but he wasn't hurt. R had been severely injured and was in the hospital. The driver of the hit-and-run car had left him with a cracked pelvic bone and dislocated leg. He was bleeding profusely and he was in bad shape.

Torn between wanting to be there as a friend and not wanting to be there at the same time, i tried getting back to sleep after the news but couldn't. By 6:30 in the morning, i was halfway through deciding in favour of going - it was the right thing to do. So when A called me at around 8:00 in the morning, i told her i was planning to come but i wasn't too sure. She said that it would be a great help to be around (the fact that i'm in her bedroom, at the PC and typing out this blog works to the contrary), An might also need help with work. Okay, i agreed. I told my parents that i was leaving the same day. Surprisingly, they didn't put up a fight.

Then came the tough part - booking an air ticket. It was a Friday, and buses were out of the question. So were airplanes, but i decided it was better to save time and fly. Besides, i didn't want to risk second thoughts about going. The tension increased two-fold, and kept multiplying till i was able to secure a seat on board Air Deccan thanks to a cancellation. Money didn't even enter the picture, R was more important. So regardless of the fare, i booked it and reached the airport.

The flight was delayed by an hour. And the 'security check' line had more than a 100 people in it. Upon arriving at Hyd, i discovered that my check-in baggage had a certain essential part of its anatomy missing. I was extremely upset - it was my most compact travel bag that could manage to fit in clothes for four days. I asked myself this question as i was waiting for A to come and pick me up: What am i doing here? I wondered: the delay, the baggage, that continuing feeling of uncertainty...was all this a sign for something?

We went to the hospital directly from the airport. R didn't know i was coming. My entry was very filmi - like a long distance lover coming home to find the better half sprawled on a hospital bed in the throes of pain. I'm just being mean and unnecessarily brutal i guess, considering R and I are not 'seeing' each other or 'going around'. But i can't help it, that's how i felt.

Time flew by swiftly. I spent a restless, sleepless night because of lots of things. My imagination ran riot, and not in a nice way at all. (I don't care to elaborate on that.)

R's surgery happened yesterday. I spent all my waking hours at the hospital along with A, joining in on the banter: R, don't do this; R, stop cribbing; cracking puns around legs and hips and all that. At 1:30, he was wheeled into the OT. From then on A, Ro and I took shifts waiting for news of R.

A's cousing joined us. He was wearing a Google tee i noticed as we were waiting for the lift to come so we could go to the room and wait for the surgery to get over. On the back was written 'I'm feeling lucky'. Was that a sign too? Was R going to be alright?

The surgery lasted six and a half hours. When he was wheeled out, we were allowed to see him briefly before he was taken into ICCU. He was wrapped in a sparse bedsheet, eyes rolling and a low moan escaping through his furiously chattering teeth. As he was taken into ICCU, he let out agonising calls for "Anand, Anand." And we couldn't meet or pacify him because visitors weren't allowed inside.

I had my reality check then.

His accident had affected me more than i cared to show. I knew that if i spoke to anyone at that point, i would break down and cry. I kept my face lowered and my mouth shut tight. I don't know what the others felt about my reactions or if they even noticed at all, but i was beyond caring. His surgery was a success, and there was no chance in hell that i was going to break down in front of everyone.

I gave in to the after-effects of stress when RKK called me. My voice shook, then broke, then was interceded with sobs that i was trying to choke back.

Far in the distance, i saw the metro moving along, its reflection gaining speed across the surface of the lake. To my left from the seventh floor window, i saw traces of sparkling light splattered in the sky, remnants of a wedding firecracker gone cold. As i continued talking to RKK, i thought if this was a sign too. That time would move on, and everything would be alright. Perhaps there would even be cause for celebration soon.