Rush Hour - contd -
by Sahar Raza
Back to page 1 of the story
He put all his energies to the moment which his wife would say was a waste of time as his wife made sure to tell him most of the time to most of his activities.
Neel tried once more last time; he applied the pedals of the defibrillator, but still the blank line would not move. This was a third attack in the past 10 minutes; he was fighting hard to control the heartbeats of the man lying before him. But nothing seems to be working, he was drenched in sweat. It did not help that he was all alone doing this. No one could have guessed from outside what was going inside the van.
He messaged the heart with his hands one more time. Nothing. Thumped it once again. Nothing. Pedals once again. Still nothing. The hands of the body have got cold.
The ambulance siren was still wailing. Neel asked the driver to stop it. Two minutes of silence for a young man who died alone in middle of the road. The rain stopped and the sun peeked out all bright and sunny. As if on cue the jam got cleared too and the ambulance moved.**
Now since it was all bright and sunny Meera euphoria passed. She found the jewelry story but did not buy anything; she walked on debating-undebating her decision, walking on the edge of the coin. No matter what she chose, she knew she would remain miserable with her choice.**
Akhilesh was frustrated; all his cunning, smart moves remained futile. The ambulance inexplicably had shut out its siren, so no one would give it right of way. And he was most probably stuck on this road for next two hours. No matter how big his car or large his house, he was stuck in this city with its dirty lanes and congested roads. He could
move to another country but he knew how to work the gears here, same charm and skills may not work elsewhere. He had insight to understand that he would be worthless in another place.**
Dayanand made sure the ambulance passed even with its siren off. Then he picked up his bike and started off to his office. He was happy and satisfied; many people had stopped to tell him about his good work or just gave a thumb up sign as they moved. Rain had stopped, with his bike, the sun and the wind, he would reach office all dried off and still get some time to work, maybe it will stretch a little late in the night as well. He was used to working hard.**
Meanwhile, our little adventurer Sai on his racer scooter bike had met with a bit of misfortune; he had reached the apartment block all drenched. The pizza box had just been a little damp according to him. But the lady had opened the box shoved it under his nose and gave him a 5 minutes lecture. As a result he had retched and vomited all over it. It was not his fault after all the smell of damp cardboard and cheese had been too much.
The lady was too shocked to talk to him further so she had called up the restaurant and filed a complaint and added some more colorful exaggerations to it against him. Like this young man kept on grinning while she kept on piling heaps of humiliation on him. What kind of behavior was that?
Sai did not know as he started the scooter back to his restaurant whether he still held his much loved job or not. But he was not devastated; he smiled at his attendant friend when he reached back. This was tough luck on an ordinary day at work, nothing else really. Life had to go on....***