Mother's love endures through all

‘Happy Mothers’ Day Mamma. When are you coming home?’

‘Trying my best Rohan to get a leave for a few days next week and visit you. Tell me, you are doing your studies well?’

‘Yes, Mamma.’

‘Ok. Good boy. But don’t be awake so late. Now, disconnect the phone, I have to go for the rounds.’

It is so painful for a mother to stay away from her child. But I am helpless. On one hand, my job forces me to stay outstation; on the other hand, this job is necessary for Rohan’s better future. Moreover, perhaps my profession gives me the best opportunity to take care of the sick and distressed.

Let me introduce myself. I am Aparajita Sen, a Bengali girl, born and brought up in Maharashtra. My father was posted at Nagpur and eventually settled there. My grandparents stayed in Kolkata, where I used to pay visits as a little girl during my vacations. However, after their demise, my ties with Kolkata were broken.

After completing school education, I studied nursing and eventually became a nurse at a Government hospital. I was married to a Bengali family and settled in Pune. My husband works at a private firm in the city and our son will appear for his 12th Board exam next year. My job is transferable and therefore has postings in different parts of the state. My present posting is at Kolhapur. I didn’t want to relocate Rohit at this crucial phase of his academic life. Hence, He is staying with his grandma and Papa in Pune and I am staying here.

Many of you must be aware of Kolhapur. This beautiful town located in the Western Ghats area beside the river Panchganga is also famous for its Mahalakshmi Temple. I have joined as the Senior Nurse of a Government Hospital of this time 6 months ago. Here the Government Hospitals are spick and span and so systematic that they are even better than the private hospitals. Our hospital is an L-shaped three-storied building where the OPD and Emergency sections along with the waiting rooms are on the ground floor. The first and second floors are for the patients. The visiting hour is till 6 pm and after 8 pm the gate of the staircase is locked up.

Let me share a strange experience with you. That week, I had night duty. Here, doctors give rounds at the patient wards at 9 pm. A 12-year-old boy was admitted to the critical care unit the day before. He was seriously injured in an accident. It was a rainy day with cool weather. I completed my rounds at around 10 pm and started switching off the high-power lights of the corridor. That day I was alone for the rounds. Two of the nurses were on leave and two others were in the Nurses’ Room of this unit.

Suddenly a found a lady, roughly 35 years old, peeping through the glass window of the critical care room.

‘Hey Madam, what are you doing?’ I shouted at her.

She looked at me helplessly and went towards the staircase. Many patients roam about at night showing excuses for going to the washroom. This is quite common in the hospital. After all, they also get bored lying on the hospital bed for days together.

I went inside the critical care cabin. The boy was on the bed, senseless, and seemed to be sleeping peacefully. There have been blood clots in his brain. They have planned to shift him to Mumbai once his condition is better. My night duty ended the next morning at 8 am. That night when I joined the night shift, I learnt that the condition of the boy had deteriorated further.

‘Keep a close watch on this boy. Don’t know whether he will be able to survive this night.’ The doctor instructed me after completing his rounds.

At around 11 pm, I was going to his room to monitor his condition. There was pin-drop silence all around except for the squeaking of the crickets in the hospital garden.

Oh no! The boy is going out with that lady. He was in his hospital dress.

‘Stop stop’ I ran after them shouting. Now they looked back at me. The woman had a sad smile on her face. They started climbing down the stairs. I called for the security guard.

‘Yes madam, what is it?’ the guard said.

‘Stop them immediately’ I instructed him.

‘Where? Whom?’ he said.

I rushed to the boy’s room. He was lying on his bed. The graphs are showing a straight line. I was anxious… Is he dead? I called the doctor.

‘Sir, please come and see the little boy’

The RMO came and said ‘He is no more. Call somebody from his family.’

The family members of critical patients stay back in the waiting room. Especially those of the child patients. The boy’s father came. I asked about his mother and came to know that she expired when the boy was only 8 days old.

The formality of issuing the death certificate has to be complete. I came to my room.

‘Who was that lady’ I was confused. I saw them clearly, but could not match the reality with them. The CCTV DVR is in this room. I started watching the footage. It was 11.10 pm, I was running and trying to stop all alone. There was none other in the corridor.

However, I know there was someone. I could feel the presence of a mother. Being a mother, I can feel the pain of living away from the child or leaving the child alone. Hence, she came to take her son along with her. The craving spirit of a deprived mother arrived to accompany her son towards his unknown journey of eternity. I am sure of her arrival. It is up to you to believe it or not.