Rushing
vehicles- bikes, cars, auto-rickshaws and buses. Flying pollutants,
if taken as a whole, will be enough to cause irked red eyes, vigorous
coughs and ultimately damaged lungs. Traffic police blowing whistles
on those unruly luxurious cars, who didn't give a damn to the traffic
signals, which always went plain amongst the mixture of blatant horns
of several other vehicles on the roads. This was the exact scenario
of Lala Lajpat road, this was common.
On the footpath of the
road I was, loitering, unoccupied with any thought and empty a heart,
taking short steps, five in a minute making my journey to home
deliberately very slow. Those passing vehicles didn't catch my
attention until there was a clash between the two speeding bikes from
opposite directions.
That clash was enough to slow down the
traffic and gather few people around the spot similar to the ants
surrounding a cube of sugar. Within few seconds I was amongst the few
people, an ant. I was witnessing an accident, first in my life-time,
live.
On the ground was a man, lying down, filled with bruises
and tiny drops of blood covering his whole body, may be some broken
bones too, I was not sure of it. The other person had already fled,
being the one at fault. The victim on the ground was traumatized, not
a whisper escaped his lips and neither did groans of pain. He had
suffered an injurious accident yet he was still, still trying to
figure out what actually had happened, open-mouthed. He was numb,
resembling a living statue.
We were still standing, encircled
around the victim, observing him as if a film shooting of a tragic
scene going on, witnessing with awe. This was no shooting, though it
was a tragic scene. Feeling a resurgence of humanity within, I took
an initiative to help the person by lifting his bike pressing against
his legs nearly crushing it to the point till it hurt. People were
still looking at the tragic scene with awe. The victim now was lying
on the ground, flickering his eyelids, rolling his eyeballs to the
extreme corners of his eyes. He was unstable in mind, may be he did
break some of his bones. I tried to lift his body, he needed to be
hospitalized, he was heavier. I was struggling with his body, not
able to lift it completely, the victim had already lost control of
his senses letting himself loose on to my hands. Without helping me,
people were still looking at the tragic scene with awe.
“Will
anybody help me out please?” I shouted.
I kept staring at
the people, if anyone would come and help. But people were still
looking at the tragic scene with awe. Finally, after one and a half
minute, one and a half minute in an accident spot does matter, a
person came out of the crowd and helped me lift the victim. I mounted
on his bike with the victim behind tying him to me and straight away
rode to the nearby nursing home. My shirt was now red. The doctor
admitted the person in the ward and I completed the formalities
giving a call to his family with his half-wrecked phone. And all
these time the people seated in the corridor were continuously giving
me gruesome looks. I didn't care, my work there was over. As I was
leaving, I heard a line of the random conversation.
“Looks
like the kid has hit the person with his bike, or else who in this
self-centered world has free time to drop a person to the hospital.”
Written by :- Ravi Raj
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