A heart beats.. Short story in English by G.Balasubramanian

A HEART BEATS.....

Short story by G.Balasubramanian

Have you ever seen Neelakanta Mehta driving his Audi car? It is indeed a visual treat... He loves that car so much that he doesn’t let any of his five drivers ever touch the car..

Mehta started as a small time entrepreneur and grew to become one of the most celebrated industrialists of Kanpur. He owns a number of factories engaged in manufacture of automobile and leather products. People know him as a shrewd and clever industrialist. He is also the chairman of a number of associations..

Lucknow is one of his favourite business destinations and he drives to this place at least twice a week.

“Sir..sir.. Please help sir...” the lady was tapping the glass of his car when he had stopped it near the traffic signal.

“Will you stop that nonsense? Don’t ever touch the car.. “

“Sir ..Some help sir.. I have not eaten for the last two days properly..”

“Don’t tell a lie.. I know now beggars even own flats and houses... “ He laughs.. ..” rich beggars” he remarks satirically..

The green signal terminates further dialogue and he moves on..

Mehta is indeed not a haughty man but he is highly conscious of his wealth and the status in the society.

After a long day of business interactions, he leaves the hotel back to Kanpur..

“Bhai.. Get one garam masala chai.” He tells the receptionist while settling the bill..

One cannot justify the happy mood of Mehta this evening.. Possibly he had a business windfall.. a breakthrough in a company for which he has been targeting several years.. back home he would certainly celebrate it with his favourite champagne!!

His happiness got certainly reflected in his drive.. elegantly he was driving at over 100 kmph though he knew it was getting dark ..

And it gets darker much early because of the winter season!

“hey! You dirty creature, crossing the road..” he shouts.. jams the car brake with such a force.. the car tyres almost shoot flames on the road..

And there “Oh my God!” he screams.. That person wrapped in a black shawl is hit.. thrown off like a ball from a bat.. about ten feet off the road... and the car stops..

He rushes to the person.. a woman with her head bleeding...”hey hey” he calls. No response.

He turns around.. “My goodness.. there is no one around.  Thank God..” He gets back to the car and picks up the speed. He changes the route from the highway to the nearest town inside.. drives through small markets and back to the highway some twenty kms ahead..

He knows what he has done was wrong, but the fear of loss of esteem, the fear being framed into a crime.. accelerates the speed of the car..

Back home, he leaves the car in the garage, goes around the car and checks whether there are any dents or indications of an accident...

“Thank God.. there is nothing..”

He moves quietly to his bedroom..

“Have you had your dinner?” Sathya, his wife asks..

“Well, I don’t feel like eating.  I am having a headache.. let me sleep.. “

“you seem to be tense...”

“Am I? .. No, No.. just a headache” he rushes to his bed.

Around 2 pm in the night,  Mehta feels restless as if someone is squeezing his heart.. he starts sweating in that air conditioned room.. his throat becomes dry..He reaches to the bottle of water close to the bed...unable to reach..

“Satya.. Satya..” he screams..

“What happened?” Satya wakes up and comes close to him..

“chest pain... Oh God!”

“I will call the doctor...”

“No ask Shyam to get the car ready.. I need to rush to the hospital.”

Shyam and Satya rush him to the nearest hospital..

“You made a mistake gentleman.. you should have sought the assistance of an ambulance.. He appears to have a massive heart attack.. First aid would be available in the ambulance”’ doctor rushes him to the ICU..

A panel of doctors arrive soon.. as many know him as a celebrated industrialist of the city..

“shyam..” Dr. Chaubey talks to the family “He has a massive attack.. two of the valves in the heart appear dysfunctional. The heart muscles are very weak.. I don’t know how he did not have a check all these days...”

“As this is a major cardiac problem, the survival rate is quite low..rather ten percent...”

“Doctor.. Any way you can save my father?” asks worried Shyam.

“ Shyam.. The only possibility is a heart transplant.. well, it can be done with the kind of expertise the team of doctors we have. But the real issue is where do we go for a living heart? It is extremely rare to get one in a short time when you really need. And even if you get one, you need to do the surgery within next few hours from the time you receive a donor heart.”

Shyam is upset and worried. “God alone can help”

Satya starts reciting Hanuman Chalisa..

In a few hours, Dr. Chaubey returns to Shyam “There is a good news.. A lady who met with an accident on the highway has become brain dead. The family is willing to donate her organs including the heart.. Are you willing to take a chance? May be that extends his life time by a few months or years?”

Shyam discusses with the members of the family and finally gives a go ahead.

“Dr. Abhijit.. Get the patient ready for a transplant.. Put all the doctors on duty.. get the theatre ready.. Let me talk to the hospital at Lucknow to rush the heart by road.. may be it takes another three or four hours..if it is brought by ambulance.. we need the police help for transportation. .. Have a look both at the organizational protocol and the surgery protocol.  No chances.. .. “

And things happen in the next few hours like a magic..

“Shyam.. “ Dr. Chaubey speaks “Your father is very lucky. The heart is perfectly set.. I am sure there should be no problem..However next forty eight hours are important..”

A fortnight later..

“Mr. Mehta..How do you feel now?” asks Dr. Chaubey.

‘Quite healthy doctor.. no pains.. I seem to be back to my normalcy..”

“Of course.. but you need to take note of a series of instructions given to you.. By the way, would you like to meet the family of the donor, just for courtesy?”

“Yes Doctor.. I owe a lot to them.. Please organize a meet..”

Two days later a middle aged man, poverty struck, walks into the room of Mehta along with his young son.

“I really don’t know how to thank you.. You have indeed given a new lease of life to me..  Please tell me how I can be useful to you. Tell me any amount .. I will just give a cheque.. I know that cheque will not mean anything for what you have done..”

Doctor looks at the person..” Sir.. I am after all a beggar. My wife also used to beg on the streets, quite often near that traffic signal. She spent most of her money to bring up my son who goes to the school. I know many days she has starved to keep us happy. She used to say “god has made us to beg... at least one day we should become rich to give something to someone who is in need.. “ She could not realize her ambition. But I am happy that at least at her death her organs have been useful to a few people. She lives through them. So If I take money for this act, her soul will curse me.. I am happy that you have a lease of life..”

Mehta is silent.. Something is hurting him. Dr. Chaubey is almost moved into tears... He looks at the small boy..

“What is your name?”

“Mummy used to call me Karna.”

“Oh, What a name! Which class are you?”

“I am in sixth class in the Government school..”

“What is that book in your hand?...”

“My Hindi text book... I was reading Kabir Doha while coming here in the bus..”

“Good.. can you tell me a doha of Kabir?”

“yes sir.. 

  

“mangan maran saman hai, math koi mango bheek; Mangne se marna bhala, yeh sathguru ki seek.”

(Begging is like dying; let no one beg. It is better to die than beg, this is Sat Guru’s Message)

A poor woman’s heart enshrined in a rich man’s body was beating  the drums and wondering whether to laugh or cry..

But Mehta was sobbing..

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