On a cold, wintry morning, the first of January this year, a friend of mine fell from a flight of stairs, fractured his leg and was in excruciating pain. Being the only person at hand, I had to call in an ambulance and move him to the medical centre of his institute (that being the nearest option) as fast as I could. The nurse wheeled him in, he was given an intravenous shot of ibuprofen and was admitted for further investigation. As the doctor got busy doing x-rays and other pathological tests, I took a seat on a wooden bench in the lobby beside a gray haired old man who was sitting with his arms folded across his chest. I usually get bored quite easily, and so being the person that I am, I struck up a conversation with him within a few minutes.
'This place is good, right ?', I asked him, somewhat skeptically. The building looked really shabby, which made me doubt its worth.
'Yeah, as good as a government-run-clinic can be,' he smirked, 'You a student here?'
'No. My friend is. I am from a different institute. ' I replied,'And you are an employee, are you?'
'Yeah. I drove the ambulance you brought your friend in,' he smiled.
Shit ! My brain must have blocked him out in this entire mess.
'Oh yes! Yes. That's why you kind of seemed familiar', I cooked up a conventional excuse and smiled back,'You from Bangalore?'
'From north Karnataka. Settled in Bangalore decades ago though. You ?'
'Calcutta.'
'Been in Bangalore for long?'
'Not quite,' I answered,'A little over two years.'
He nodded his head.
An awkward silence followed for a couple of minutes.
I broke the ice again.
'It must be really difficult in your job, isn't it? Being on your toes twenty four-seven?'
He smiled.
'Tell me something', I shifted in my seat turning towards him and asked, 'How difficult is it to drive an ambulance than driving a regular four wheeler?'
'Technically, both are cars. The basics are the same. But other than that, there's a hell lot of a difference. Every day you drive with the notion that the next bend you take can be the patient's last. You keep telling yourself to hurry up, but you cannot afford to crash into the kerb, nor can you afford to be slow. It's like carrying a ticking time bomb in your dickey, which makes you think twice before pressing the brakes every time.'
'And how long have you been doing it ?'
'For the past fifteen years'
'That's a pretty long time! But then,' I guessed his approximate age, made calculations and asked,' But then I guess you were not always an ambulance driver, were you?'
'No. Before this I was in the army.'
'The army ?!', I exclaimed, 'Like the army army ?'
He laughed,'Yeah, the army Army. The Indian Army, I mean.'
'That's amazing!'
'And if you are wondering if this old man had ever been active in the battlefield, yes he had.'
'Really ?!'
'I fought in the Bangladesh Liberation War of 1971. Been in Calcutta at that time, had stayed at the Fort William- seen the Ganga, the Howrah Bridge, the Eden gardens. Good old times they were.'
'So what happened ? If you were in the army, how did you end up driving ambulances ?', I asked.
'You see my son,' he got up, stretched his arms, and smiled,'In life, we all suffer, in one way or the other. How we decide to deal with the suffering makes us who we are. Some people decide to bury their's, while others try to negotiate with it all their life. I just chose to drive mine.'
'This place is good, right ?', I asked him, somewhat skeptically. The building looked really shabby, which made me doubt its worth.
'Yeah, as good as a government-run-clinic can be,' he smirked, 'You a student here?'
'No. My friend is. I am from a different institute. ' I replied,'And you are an employee, are you?'
'Yeah. I drove the ambulance you brought your friend in,' he smiled.
Shit ! My brain must have blocked him out in this entire mess.
'Oh yes! Yes. That's why you kind of seemed familiar', I cooked up a conventional excuse and smiled back,'You from Bangalore?'
'From north Karnataka. Settled in Bangalore decades ago though. You ?'
'Calcutta.'
'Been in Bangalore for long?'
'Not quite,' I answered,'A little over two years.'
He nodded his head.
An awkward silence followed for a couple of minutes.
I broke the ice again.
'It must be really difficult in your job, isn't it? Being on your toes twenty four-seven?'
He smiled.
'Tell me something', I shifted in my seat turning towards him and asked, 'How difficult is it to drive an ambulance than driving a regular four wheeler?'
'Technically, both are cars. The basics are the same. But other than that, there's a hell lot of a difference. Every day you drive with the notion that the next bend you take can be the patient's last. You keep telling yourself to hurry up, but you cannot afford to crash into the kerb, nor can you afford to be slow. It's like carrying a ticking time bomb in your dickey, which makes you think twice before pressing the brakes every time.'
'And how long have you been doing it ?'
'For the past fifteen years'
'That's a pretty long time! But then,' I guessed his approximate age, made calculations and asked,' But then I guess you were not always an ambulance driver, were you?'
'No. Before this I was in the army.'
'The army ?!', I exclaimed, 'Like the army army ?'
He laughed,'Yeah, the army Army. The Indian Army, I mean.'
'That's amazing!'
'And if you are wondering if this old man had ever been active in the battlefield, yes he had.'
'Really ?!'
'I fought in the Bangladesh Liberation War of 1971. Been in Calcutta at that time, had stayed at the Fort William- seen the Ganga, the Howrah Bridge, the Eden gardens. Good old times they were.'
'So what happened ? If you were in the army, how did you end up driving ambulances ?', I asked.
'You see my son,' he got up, stretched his arms, and smiled,'In life, we all suffer, in one way or the other. How we decide to deal with the suffering makes us who we are. Some people decide to bury their's, while others try to negotiate with it all their life. I just chose to drive mine.'
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