“Got to go mother,” said Saroj as her cell phone vibrated with the message, “needed urgently at the emergency ward.”
She had just returned after overnight duty and not even had her morning tea.
“Not getting any award, why work so hard, Saroj?” complained mother, “you look so tired and so tense always!”
“Should have thought earlier, mother, before pushing me to become a doctor,” thought Saroj picking her stethoscope, “this is the time for a junior doctor to gain experience.”
Manoj was lying on the emergency room, drifting in and out of his consciousness, in this local hospital. His jeep was blown up by an IED.
“He needs blood transfusion,” Saroj told the personnel accompanying Manoj, as she checked the injured officer, “stabilise him before shifting to city.”
“Madam, there is no blood in our hospital.”
“I shall donate,” said Saroj looking at the tattoo on the index finger, “I know him.”
“Swear by our friendship, we shall be friends for ever.” said twelve year old Manoj Srivastava crossing his tattooed index finger with that of Saroj “stay in touch.” His eleven year old friend Saroj Pandey was moving to a different city. Her father a government servant was transferred. Time and distance played their part. Initial enthusiasm died down with time. Manoj and Saroj got busy with their lives.
“Madam, we are are ready to move.” Saroj was aroused from her reverie. She crossed Manoj’s ring finger, “I did not let death touch you my friend under my watch.”
Word Count : 251
This post is written as part of# TellTaleThursday with Anshu & Priya . More articles on the post may be found here.