Chapter 54 #2
“Did he dispatch the force?” Atharva pushed.
“The clearance is not coming.”
“From where?”
Samar stared at him. The CMO.
“Why?”
“Paperwork. It’s cross-state. May take another hour to come through…”
“Samar.”
“Haan, yes,” he went back to Adil.
“Captain Husain is ready and on standby. We will dispatch as soon as things are signed. I am on it.”
“You better be, because I don’t see much else to hold it together here tonight.” Samar eyed the small gathering of local villagers and a dozen HDP members.
“Here’s what we will do.” Samar heard Atharva’s voice and ended the call.
“A team of two will take the high ground with binoculars and a portable ham set,” he began directing, eerily falling back into Captain Kaul mode in a millisecond.
It took Samar some time to even get his bearings enough to realise that if the NDRF or Disaster Management team was delayed then he and Atharva were all there was here.
But Atharva, in no time, had set up everyone with tasks, and gotten them to work — carrying relief material up to the hill temple where the entire village had taken shelter, catering to a rescue mission, swimming for recce, keeping watch.
Samar got to work alongside them, slipping seamlessly back into an old, long-lost role.
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“That looks like Dharmi Fufa.”
Samar cleaned the rain from his specs with his palms, peering at the laptop Atharva had opened under a makeshift shed.
He had the presence of mind to get a Go-Pro and snap it to a swimmer boy’s head to track the family trapped on their farm.
There was nothing but water and zero visibility, even from the high ground they had caught.
“Does he have any co-morbidities?” Atharva asked, playing and replaying the clip where a family of seven was trapped on their roof. The man seemed to have collapsed between his family members.
“Asthma!” Vikram yelled above the rain.
Atharva met Samar’s eyes. Rain and asthma with age, just what we needed. Samar pulled his satellite phone and pressed for Adil. No answer. They needed an airlift.
“Where the fuck is Adil?!”
“Listen,” Atharva held his shoulder. “Let’s assume no help is coming at this point. Take your kit and get on a raft. I’ll inflate it. Take Jagga with you to navigate.”
“Good idea.”
“Vikram bhaiyaaa!!!” Somebody shot downhill. “Vikram bhaiyyyya! Attack aayaa![164]”
“Kya attack? Kisne kiya?[165]”
“Shailendri ki Dadi ko attack aaya.[166]”
Asthma and attacks. Samar looked up at the hike leading to the temple. Then back at the farm in the distance. His feet began to move towards the patient with the attack but his hands reached for his bag for the pump.
“Samar.” Atharva’s voice broke through to him.
He looked at Atharva.
“Go with them. I’ll take the boat.”
Samar stopped to think. If Atharva went to the farm, what would he give him? He knew how to administer the basics.
“Samar!” Atharva yelled. And he stood to attention from his hunch, taking the order. “Make me a kit for an asthmatic patient.”
“Yes, yes,” he immediately filled a bag — pump, epinephrine, syringes, nasal drops. He thrust it at Atharva. “Here.”
“Now take your kit and go up with Vikram…”
“Then who will keep a watch out for you?” Vikram demanded.
“Jagga.”
“But you will take him…”
“No, I will go alone. Jagga will keep watch from here. You go up with Samar. If this case is serious, then Samar might need you to mobilise men and systems to get her moving.”
“I’ll see you.” Samar lifted his bag and gave him one firm look before turning and climbing up the hill. They had done this numerous times. He had done this innumerable times.
Everything fell away, the chill creaking his bones turned warm, and his limbs moved on adrenaline. His senses sharpened, and he heard Vikram running behind him.
“Not there!” Vikram called out. “There are steps on this side.” He ran up in front of him and pointed to their left. Samar followed him, the trek becoming easier as natural steps carved into the stone helped quicken their way.
The temple came into view and the people spilling around it were just too many. How would everyone shelter here if the inside was full already?
“Shailendri ki dadi mar rahi hai![167]” One of the boys yelled, coming down to them. Vikram caught him and ran up with him — “Doctor saab aaye hai, chalo, bhaago.[168]”
Samar followed the boy up the temple steps and through the scores of people on either side.
And then he realised that the temple was quite big, but empty now, because the people had spilled out to wait for him.
The patient was on a stone slab, lying in the darshan area, the doors to the deity closed.
More people surrounded her, murmuring to do this and that; somebody even offered Gangajal.
“Hato, Doctor saab aa gaye![169]”
They made way, and Samar found her conscious, panting, talking.
“Jal raha hai…haaye…” she panted. “Main marne wali hoon… Gangajal pila do…[170]”
“Jal raha hai yaa dukh raha hai?[171]” Samar checked her airways, surprisingly clear. Her eyes were dilated but not worrisomely so. She was talking, and not holding onto her chest or arm.
“Jal raha hai…” she winced, rubbing the centre of her chest. “Yamraj aa gaye.[172]"
He wrapped the BP cuff around her arm and found it at 140/80, normal for her age.
“BP ki bimari hai aapko?[173]”
She shook her head. Samar looked at the couple standing by her head to confirm.
“Nahi, Doctor saab.” The man, her son, he assumed, answered. “Koi bimari nahi hai. Abhi bas chhaati pakad ke gir padi![174]”
“Kuch khaya tha?[175]” Samar took her wrist in his hand.
“Abhi pudi tal rahe hai… ek pudi khaayi.[176]”
He set her wrist down and rubbed her left shoulder — “Yaha dukh raha hai?[177]”
She shook her head.
“Dahini taraf kahi bhi dukh raha hai?[178]”
“Nahi…” she rubbed the centre of her sternum. “Bas yahi jal raha hai. Main jaa rahi hoon, Guddu…[179]”
Samar plugged his stethoscope in and pressed the tab to her chest. “Saans lijiye.[180]”
He got her to sitting, and she sat with ease. Samar went to the back and checked again. He grabbed his kit and pulled out an antacid.
“Yeh khaiye.” He set it on her tongue. “Takiye laao.[181]”
“Takiye nahi hai, gadde hai.[182]” Vikram ran.
“Leke aao.[183]”
They rolled up the mattresses and set them up behind her, and Samar made her sit upright, even as she kept insisting that she was dying.
“Kya hua hai?[184]” Vikram asked him as he stood back.
“Acidity aur panic[185],” Samar whispered in his ear.
“Doctorsaab…” Her son came to him. Samar nodded. “Theek hai, attack nahi hai.[186]”
“Main jaa rahi hoon…” she kept murmuring, eyes closed. “Guddu, mere kangan teri biwi se le lena, Shailendri ko hi dena…[187]”
Samar noted her hand slowly leave her chest. Her breaths went deeper, steadier. He checked her chest with his stethoscope again. In control.
“Aaram kariye, kuch nahi hoga.[188]”
“Mujhe attack nahi aaya?[189]” She asked.
Samar felt himself smile. “Nahi.[190]”
He turned to Vikram and her son — “Aadha-ek ghanta aur dekhte hai. Acidity hai. Abhi kuch khilana mat.[191]”
“Dhanyawad, Doctor saab,[192]” the man, old enough to be his father, began to quiver. Samar saw his firm demeanour break as he began to fold his hands, shaking. Samar held them in his own — “Bas, sab theek hai.[193]”
He cocked his head to Vikram and they sat down on the side, waiting.
“How do you know Atharva?” Samar set his bag down between them.
“I met him in Kinnaur.”
Their camaraderie was more than just a meeting’s worth. But Samar did not push. He pulled off his specs and sighed, cleaning the glasses on his damp shirt. The temple was getting dark as the light outside dimmed. He peered at the window. The day was dipping.
“Go find out if Atharva came back,” he tipped his chin to Vikram. “If she is still fine then it’s not a heart attack.”
As if he had been waiting for those orders, Vikram got up and ran out of the temple. Samar pulled out his satellite phone and found a missed call. Adil.
He pressed Call Back.
“Hey!”
“Tell me you dispatched the crew.”
“In the air as of twenty minutes ago. Should be reaching there any minute now.”
“Who is leading it?”
“Captain Husain. Atharva knows him…”
“Patch me up to them.”
“Hang on…”
Adil went out, leaving static. Samar stared at the old woman, chattering with the people around her now. After the kind of miserable day he had, Samar felt like smiling. He had seen patients, mostly soldiers. Somebody like her was… a novelty. Never had an emergency ended for him in a laugh.
He smiled. May every emergency end in a laugh like this.
“Helicopter! Helicopter!!”
Samar got up and rushed out of the temple, in time to hear the rotors through the rain.
“Samar!” Adil was back. “You are patched up with Captain Husain.”
“Captain Husain?” Samar spoke. “Do you copy?”
“Copy, sir.” His voice tore through the noise. Samar ran back inside, the temple quiet because people had rushed out. He checked his own GPS location.
“Confirm my position,” he said. “Three-zero point five-six-eight-five North. Seven-seven point three-zero-six-zero East. Hilltop temple site. Elevation approximately twenty-six hundred meters. Rocky terrain. Steep northeast slopes. Sparse vegetation. Structure visible from the western approach.”
The wind and rain were roaring hard.
“Location confirmed.”
“Rescue priority is a stranded family at a farm approximately twelve hundred meters northeast of this position. Access compromised by flooding. Atharva attempted approach on a neon raft. Status unknown. Over.”
The line hissed again before Captain Husain replied. “Estimating farm location, sir… stand by… location locked. Three-zero point five-seven-three-zero North. Seven-seven point three-one-two-zero East. That’s your twelve hundred meters northeast. We’re moving.”
Samar closed his eyes for half a second, steadying himself against the wall as thunder rolled overhead.