Chapter 9

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 "I am not the flowering of a song, nor the flow of melody

I am the echo of the shattering sound of my defeat."

~Rabi Sankar Bal
  Dozakhnama

~Rabi Sankar Bal  Dozakhnama

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The heart monitor gave a low grave beep and the fan whirled at slow speed sounding as if mumbling words. The strong scent of Detol surface cleaner filled her nostrils mixed with the stench of antiseptic and alcohol.

Her weary honey-browns stared fixated, marking the level of the red liquid in the plastic bottle hanging from the metal stand, as she sat with her head rested against the white washed wall of the hospital room.

His third bottle.

A pang hit her heart as the doctor's words repeated in her head from two days ago.

Day 1

"He's been hit by something heavy like a metal rod on the head and back."

"Muscles crushed under his body weight... "

"Ruptured tendons, two broken ribs, bruises on the back and face.."

"Head wound is the deepest, most of the blood loss has been caused by it... We're afraid it might as well have some impact on his memories... Short term of course..."

"He needs blood.... We need an O- donor."

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Day 2

"The patient is not out of danger. We had stitched the wound but there has been minimal internal bleeding ...."

"The body went into shock.. He is still not conscious.... He needs more blood.

He needs your prayers.. "
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Day 3

"Your patient is out of danger but the recovery will be slow, he's lost a lot of blood... The body is weak."

"We're keeping him sedated, he needs a lot of rest so his wounds heal fast.. "
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"Congratulations, He is doing well. This would be his last dose... no more blood will be required, the body is stronger now.

He is healing."

That was today and she stared at his last bottle hoping, praying that this be enough to revive his vitality and he returns to them with his smiling face and witty tongue..

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The news of Daniyal's accident had reached the family at 4:00 am in the morning with a frantic Nile's trembling voice reporting from the ER of Bahria International.

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