Incurable: Nothing is Incurable Except Death

 That very moment, the old man glanced at modern girls sitting in his cabin. Not afraid of death, they were managing their hair style.  Having celebrated approximately 70 Diwali   the old man realized at once principle of life and death. He muttered, " This rogue is bent on showing feats".Still, he instructed him to drive slow

O! My brother! Drive slow. Many patients like me are travelling in it. These jerks are very troublesome. You ought to drive slow. His roaring tone had converted into tone of a scared cat.

"Babu Ji. I have experience of driving in so many cities." He was boasting of his experience.

The old man  muttered, "This wicked fellow,As if he was driver by birth." Still he managed to control his temper and without arguing further, cam back to his seat. Thanks God, between jerks and lures, it reached metro city within two hours.

This is the first bus to fetch patients to city. Most of the ailing persons reach the city by this bus, in the early hours of morning. One additional benefit of such private buses is that they charge forty rupees less than Govt. buses. Loss is that they don't guarantee life insurance. Means, every aspect is managed in an easy going way.

Anyways, whatsoever be the case, all sick persons reached O. P. D. before time. Manohar, who was well versed in telling plus points of modern science, was aghast on seeing rush of patients over there. For once, he thought of going back home!! But, then again , with a firm mind, he focussed on availing benefits of this modern science.

At about 8 a.m., the entrance of Hospital opened and the crowd rushed in , just as dogs sent by villain run after the hero. Else, you can say they gushed in just as in developing countries, crowd of literate-illiterate persons attacks on feast of a wedding event. he, too, managed to manage space for himself in hospital, in spite of pushing and jolting. Till now, he had always felt that there is no space in Govt. jobs, but now he developed the thought as if there is no space anywhere.

People started standing in queue on counter of registration for prescriptions. Lot of noise all around. One standing on back would strike against the person standing ahead of him and will be rebuked in turn."Are we made of stone? We too are breathing. At time, the one standing ahead will clarify his point." Brother, I had already kept my place reserved here. Or who else comes here to occupy place of some other fellow."

 Somehow, he ultimately succeeded in  getting a prescription slip, in spite of jostles and attacks of thin and sharp bones of persistently mal-nourished villagers. After this phase was over, again a line of same persons, same jostles and pushing with elbows. At times, it seemed as if a person does not die on his own; these pushes push him towards death.

( AN EXTRACT FROM MY FORTHCOMING TRANSLATED BOOK OF Dr. RAVINDRA YADAV)