Her Warrior Poet (Pune Diaries Book 1)

by Candy Laine

  The village children usually watched out for her and would follow her around at a distance when she went climbing and clicking pictures. They were always mightily amused with anything she did. She thought they enjoyed watching her make a fool of herself, but were equally addicted to the toffees she handed out to the braver of them who came closer.

  A couple of them had become quite friendly even though she couldn’t speak the local lingo. They mostly communicated with hand signs. She wished she could organize some language classes for them. They were obviously not even attending the local government school. Given the distance they would mostly have to travel by foot, it was no wonder that the parents would not enrol them.

  Shweta sighed. She knew she couldn’t be an idealist. There were so many things that she could not do, but she could focus on the work that she could do. She brought her attention back to the laptop screen in front of her. The data she had collected so far seemed to prove her hypothesis. Another couple of months and she would have enough data to end the project.

  ~~~

  The jeep pulled into the small area in front of the hospital emergency building that served as parking for the single ambulance of the hospital. The driver parked in an unobstructive manner after dropping Arun off in front of the main entrance. Arun got out and stretched his legs gratefully as he took a deep breath and entered the hospital.

  There was a solitary nurse in the reception area. She looked up when the door opened and was surprised to see him marching towards her. Arun couldn’t blame her, no one with any sense would be out so early on a day like this. He mustered up a smile, despite the pain he felt jolting up his body with each step he took. The elderly nurse obviously saw right through him as she asked, “How badly are you hurt?”

  “I’ll live,” joked Arun, with a half smile playing on his lips, “I’m here to meet someone else actually.”

  “You need to see a doctor?”

  “No, a patient. Robin Singh. A major surgery was conducted on him last week?” He asked hopefully praying that she would know his whereabouts.

  “Oh! The man who was shot. Of course, he was working with the army as a coolie in the high altitude regions.” She registered his regulation camouflage jacket and asked, “Are you from the Army?”

  “Captain Arun Rastogi at your service, Ma’am.” He gave the nurse a stiff bow.

  “Well Captain Rastogi, I am Nurse Seema.” She cracked a little grin.

  “Nice to meet you.” He smiled back.

  “Same here. To see the patient you need to get the doctor’s permission.”

  “Okay, where’s the doctor? I can speak with him.” Arun looked down the hall.

  “Unfortunately the attending surgeon is not here today as it’s a holiday,” At his disappointed expression she hurried on, “but if you can get the ward in-charge to clear the visit, you can see him.”

  “Great, where do I find him?”

  “Her. It’s Dr Shweta Karkare, and if she says yes, you can meet Robin Singh.”

  “Oh, okay, so where is she?” Arun shifted his weight to the right foot. The pain was becoming worse. Maybe he needed to take one of those pain killers again. He hated how fuzzy they made his brain, like everything was moving in slow motion.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Seema’s eyes narrowed with concern. After years of being a nurse, she knew someone in pain when she looked into their eyes.

  “Yes, I’m fine. Thank you. Where did you say I would find the doctor?”

  “She should be in the corner office in the ward. Down the corridor, and third door to your right.”

  Arun gave the nurse another smile as he thanked her and began walking down the corridor. He tried to roll his shoulders to try and reduce the pain. That was not such a good idea he realized as the pain shot through him like a bolt of white lightening. White spots formed before his eyes and his knees turned to jelly.

  He flung out his left hand to try and grab the wall to support himself. Instead of hitting the wall it pushed open a door, destabilizing himself. He toppled right through the door and headed to the floor inside the room. He heard a shout and then his torso landed on the floor and the pain that shot through him had him blanking out into darkness.

  His head felt heavy. He could not open his eyes even though he was trying to. He could hear quiet voices talking close to him, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying. He felt hands examine him and pick him up. He was placed on something hard. There was a feeling of motion. He tried hard to listen and caught some random words which made no sense. A woman was speaking softly to a man. Then he felt a slight prick on his arm and everything went black again.

  o0o

  3

  Drop Dead Handsome

  o0o

  Hope is the thing with feathers

  That perches in the soul,

  And sings the tune without the words,

  And never stops at all.

  Emily Dickinson

  Shweta had just finished a rather unsatisfactory breakfast in the cafeteria and was headed back to the ward. She was about to open the door when it was pushed open and a man fell right through it. She let out a small shout at the scare as the man hit the floor right at her feet. Then her medical training kicked in. She kneeled and felt for his pulse, as she yelled for the orderlies to come quickly.

  He seemed to have fainted. They loaded him onto a gurney and transferred him onto a bed in the general ward. The commotion brought Arun’s driver who had just entered the hospital into the ward as well. “What happened to my Sahab?”

  “You know this man?” Shweta looked up from her examination of Arun on the hospital bed.

  “Yes he is my Sahab”

  “Is he not well?”

  “He is fine. He is just recovering from a bullet wound.”

  “Bullet wound? Where? Who shot him? We need to inform the police!”

  Nurse Seema answered, “I don’t think so, Dr. Shweta. He introduced himself as Captain Arun Rastogi. He’s an army officer. He came to see our shooting victim.”

  “Oh!” He is a captain in the army. He’s in the army. The Indian Army. A warrior. The words kept running through her head as she checked the bloodied bandage on his shoulder. The dressing needed to be changed. There didn’t seem to be anything wrong there with the stitches. He had lost a lot of blood and must have experienced the dizziness as a result of his weakened state.

  The nurse said his BP was 90 / 70. That was low. He needed to rest, not go traipsing across the countryside and falling through doors scaring doctors as they went about their daily routine. She scowled at the fright he had given her. Shweta kept the unreasonable irritation caused by anxiety out of her voice as she issued instructions to the nurse. She gave him a mild sedative shot that would keep him asleep for a few hours.

  After she finished up with her patient she asked the driver to follow her out into the corridor. “Why are you people here? This is a civil hospital. Why didn’t isn’t this man in a military hospital?”

  “We were not here for treatment.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  “Rastogi Sahab just wanted to meet Robin Singh. We were told he is a patient here.”

  “Yes, he is.” Nurse Seema confirmed.

  “Rastogi Sahab wanted to meet Robin. We have been driving since early morning to get here. We need to return back to the unit today.”

  Shweta shook her head at the sheer stupidity of someone recovering from a bullet wound travelling long distances over the terrible mountain roads. Typical macho man syndrome, she thought to herself as her lips drew into a thin line in total disapproval. Whether she liked it or not, she was the doctor in charge. He was going to be admitted, whether he liked it or not.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Sepahi Ramphal.”

  “Okay Sepahi Ramphal, your Captain is in no position to travel so he will have to rest in the hospital for a few days.”

  “But we have to go back to the unit today. CO Sahab w
as very specific about that. Captain Sahab has to proceed to the Command Hospital tomorrow morning.”

  “He is in a hospital right now,” snapped Shweta, and instantly regretted it, “He is under the care of a doctor, and that doctor is telling you that he can’t go anywhere today.”

  “But CO Sahab will be very angry with me if I don’t take him back today.” The man was like a dog with a bone. Shweta’s patience was ready to run out anytime. She decided to make one more attempt at being polite but firm.

  “You can go back today to your unit. Tell your CO Sahab that I did not allow your Captain Sahab to travel in this condition.” Before the man could start his old argument again, she turned her back and walked away. She could hear Nurse Seema muttering sympathetically to him as she led him away from the ward and into the cafeteria.

  Shweta went in to check on her latest patient. He seemed to be resting peacefully. He looked very young and vulnerable in his sleep. She had an urge to place her palm on his forehead and stroke his hair away. As she lifted her hand to do so, he shifted and the hospital sheet slipped to reveal his shoulder wound. Shweta was paralysed for a few seconds. Her brain processed the wound and connected it to his profession.

  This was a soldier. A warrior who put his life at risk for a living, every single day. There was no way he was vulnerable. When he woke up he would probably be the epitome of a warrior who pretended to feel no pain. A fighter who enjoyed pitting his skills against the enemies in battle. No there was nothing vulnerable about him. Shweta’s hand formed a fist and with one last professional glance over his prone form, she walked away.

  o0o

  4

  Reconciling the Past

  o0o

  Farewell we call to hearth and hall!

  Though wind may blow and rain may fall,

  We must away ere break of day

  Far over wood and mountain tall.

  John Ronald Reuel Tolkien

  Captain Arun Rastogi woke up to the sound of absolute silence. There was a sense of peace that he had not felt in a long time. He opened his eyes to a white ceiling. It did not look familiar. His room in the field mess did not have a nicely painted white ceiling. Ergo he was not in his room. Then where was he?

  He tried to turn his head to take in more of the room, but the movements were sluggish. He was obviously drugged. He hated the fuzzy feeling that painkillers gave him. He could never think straight when he took the medicines. It was the reason he avoided them even when his wound hurt enough to make him lose consciousness.

  There was an empty chair next to his bed and a window on the wall behind it. There was a flurry of white outside. He turned his head to the other side slowly and realized that his muscles were aching. There were more beds on this side. All in a line, one more was occupied. It looked like a dormitory, or a … that’s right, it was a hospital. He had been on his way to a hospital. Why? His brain was fuzzy on the details.

  He closed his eyes and tried to think. The images came to him slowly. He thought it was a dream, but he also knew it was a memory. He was at home with his friends. They had just finished their twelfth grade exams. Everybody was talking about what prospectus they needed to buy and which exam was the best to ensure a good college admission. He wanted to study the great writers. Literature was his passion, but he knew better than to say that out loud. No son of Col Vijay Rastogi would ever take Arts. It was simply unthinkable.

  His mother knocked on the open door of his room and said, “Come for lunch, boys!” The four of them scrambled off the bed and chairs in his room and headed for the dining table. His Mom was an amazing cook and his friends knew it. The meal passed with many compliments being paid to her. They were just finishing lunch and preparing to move out when the bell rang. His mother went to answer the door. It was a registered delivery that she signed for.

  The boys were all thanking her for the meal and heading out of the still open door. “Geeta Aunty thank you for lunch but now I must KPK” Ashish Mehta smiled at her.

  “KPK?” Geeta Rastogi repeated, puzzled.

  “Khaye Piye Khiske.” Provided Vishal Nadkarni from the side.

  “Oh” she smiled and nodded her head.

  “We’ll see you at four in the institute for tennis?” Raman Nair asked as he waved good bye.

  “I’ll be there!” Arun shut the door behind his friends and turned to look at his mother.

  “Arun.” The gentleness of her tone warned him that she knew that she was not delivering good news. He turned to face her and saw her holding out the envelop to him. His hands shook a little as he took it from her and read his name on the brown envelop with the round government stamp on it.

  He knew what it was. It was the end of all other choices for him. It was his National Defence Academy entrance result. He had made it. All his other dreams just faded away. He would not be going to college. He was going to join the academy and end up in the Army like his father always wanted. Col Vijay Rastogi would be very happy this evening. Arun felt heaviness in his chest and then he drifted back into the arms of numbing darkness.

  Shweta walked into the ward and asked the dozing Ramphal, “Has he woken up yet?”

  “No Doctor Sahib.” Ramphal was on his feet in a second. As he spoke Arun stirred.

  “Well he will be waking up soon. He should be hungry. I’ll ask the nurse to send over some food.” Shweta walked away.

  Arun could hear voices, but they were speaking very softly. He couldn’t make out what they were saying. He needed to know what they were talking about. He groaned softly and willed his eyes to open. It seemed like they were glued shut. There were no more voices. Suddenly it became important that he open his eyes. As he blinked he saw Ramphal staring down at him.

  “How are you feeling, Sahib?” Arun blinked to focus better.

  “Where…Robin! Did we find him?”

  “Yes we did. He is on that bed.” Ramphal pointed to the right.

  “Help me up. I have to speak with him.”

  Together they made slow progress till they finally reached Robin’s bed. Robin was propped up on pillows and eating his meagre hospital meal. His brother got up from the chair besides his bed and offered it to Arun. Arun smiled his thanks as he sank into it gratefully and turned to Robin.

  “Thank you Robin.” Arun wished he could do more for the man than thank him. The words seemed inadequate.

  “What for Captain Saab?” Robin smiled at him.

  “For the warning you gave. It saved my life.” Arun remembered seeing the glint of light as it flashed off the gun just before it fired at their position.

  Robin just nodded, “I am glad you are alive.”

  “So am I, Robin. So am I.” Arun smiled back at him.

  “I need to get back to the unit now, but if you need anything get in touch with me.” Thanks to Robin’s early warning they had managed to survive the terrorist attack on their patrol.

  “You came all this way to see me, just to say thank you?” Robin’s eyes widened. He never expected anyone to come visit him while he lay recovering from his gunshot wounds.

  “I had to. I could not thank you that day since you were unconscious and I was busy fighting. Now that I have, I need to return. Ramphal where are my clothes?” Arun looked around and saw some clothes hanging on the wall near the bed he had been lying on.

  “I’ll just bring your shirt and jacket Sahib.” Ramphal charged towards the clothes.

  As Arun finished dressing, the nurse on duty came with a food tray for him. “What are you doing out of bed?” she exclaimed.

  “I’m going back to my unit.” Arun’s voice was calm and collected.

  “But I brought you something to eat.” The nurse obviously was not used to a patient with a bullet wound walking around.

  “Thank you I will eat before I leave.” He was getting a bit hungry now that he thought about it.

  “But you are too weak to travel.” The nurse spluttered.

  “I’m fine. I just have to sit while
he drives.” Arun pointed to Ramphal who was now looking really amused by her efforts.

  “But you must speak with the doctor who is treating you.” The nurse really did not know what to do with this patient.

  “I’ll speak with him and thank him before I leave.” Arun could understand her perspective. He may even need to pay a hospital bill if they treated him. He hoped he was carrying enough money in his wallet.

  “Her. She’s in the cafeteria right now.”

  “Okay,” Arun walked out of the ward as he asked Ramphal, “Have you eaten yet?”

  “No Sahib.” Ramphal shook his head as Arun handed over the tray to him.

  “You can eat the food the nurse brought. I’ll get something for myself at the cafeteria.”

  He walked slowly out of the room with the flustered nurse behind him. He saw the door sign for the cafeteria and pushed it open. He looked around for the doctor. There was only one person seated at a table. It was a young girl who was eating with a spoon halfway to her mouth. Her short brown hair framed her face, covering her jaw and brushing her chin.. She must have felt him staring. She looked at him, the hair swinging back, then frowned.

  “Dr. Shweta he wouldn’t stay...” the nurse had finally caught up to him.

  “It’s okay, nurse.” Shweta waved her away. “Please join me.” She gestured to the seat opposite her. “It’s good to see you on your feet. I’m Dr. Shweta Karkare.”

  Arun walked over to her table in a trance. As he looked into her eyes the world seemed to melt away. She was saying something, but he couldn’t hear her over the sound of the blood rushing into his brain. She frowned. He still stared at her and when she waved her hand before his face, he snapped back. She was obviously waiting for something. Damn these drugs. He really was having a problem concentrating.

  “What?” His voice croaked out barely audible.

  “I asked what you would like to eat?” Shweta was getting concerned about his sluggish responses. She hadn’t realised how tall he was when he was laid out on bed. He moved with an alertness and grace that she found attractive, but he was obviously still recovering from the trauma of his injury.