As she crossed the busy market on Hong Kong lane, an ambulance struggled its way through the crazy traffic, even though its sirens blared. Kripa and Easwar often talked about the lack of respect ambulances got in the country. If only everybody hurrying for their meetings, functions and parties stopped for 40 seconds and let ambulances have the right of way, perhaps they’d contribute in saving hundreds of lives a day.
The ambulance had almost crossed the worst part of the traffic. Kripa closed her eyes and held her hands to her chest in a silent prayer for the person in the ambulance and his family. It was one of the things Easwar always insisted on. He is a religious man, thought she, when he first mentioned praying for people in ambulances. A compassionate religious man, she corrected her thought. After praying for a quick recovery and a happy reunion with the family, she now turned onto Brindavan Road.
Twenty minutes from then, just as she was about to enter her colony, she got a call. “Hello, is this Mrs Easwar?” an unfamiliar voice asked. She smiled. Although they had been married for four years now, she still blushed when someone called her Mrs Easwar. She said, “Yes, this is Mrs Easwar. Kripa Easwar. May I know who is calling, please?” The voice on the other end seemed to come from inside a well, “Mrs Kripa Easwar, we are calling from Providence Hospital on Brindavan Road. We regret to inform you that Mr Easwar has been in a terrible accident. We are doing everything we can. But the injuries to his head are quite severe. If he was brought in ten minutes sooner, perhaps, he would have had a better chance. Our team of doctors are attending to him as we speak. Please come to Providence Hospital’s Brindavan Road branch as soon as you can.”
Kripa turned around and stared in disbelief at the hospital she had just crossed two minutes ago. The ambulance that had crawled its way through the traffic had brought its patient to Providence Hospital on Brindavan Road. In a matter of minutes, blushing Mrs Kripa Easwar was on the verge of becoming Kripa, wife of late Easwar.
Involuntarily, her eyes closed in prayer for the same patient, a second time. Was her prayer sincere enough? Was it loud enough?