Of Blood counts, Hospitals and dear life.

"Why are your eyes red?" asked Akanksha, on meeting after almost two months of the Rajasthan schedule for Mr. Benegal's "Road, Movie". I didnt have an answer, I checked in the mirror and thought, must be due to the traffic, or pollution, dust or something. Little did i know that Akanksha could see the danger coming, and well I could not. As usual, ignoring her concern, I went on with my activities, of being the part of post production team.

A few days later, it did come, like the invasion of those deadly locusts in Days of Heaven. First, in the form of rashes on the body leading to the scare and doubt of it being 'measles' and later in the form of high fever, extreme weakness and loss of appetite. As, the eyes started getting more red with passing days, I went to a physician. She suggested a few tablets and asked me to come after a week, But I had my sixth sense telling me
"ma'am my condition is too weak to survive on your small tablets till the next bloody week".

And since it was measles I was frightened to go to any of my Uncle's or Masi's place, fearing they all have kids ranging from the age of 8 to 20, who can be easily susceptible to such viral infections.

I can understand how some people would like to run away from such trouble rather than helping out the diseased. In a city, where every other day you find a dead body lying unattended on a local train station, the act of ignoring or even hating the idea of you being forced to see a diseased person for a few days in your house, is completely logical. In addition to it, you also have the fear of getting the virus transmitted, but then measles do not come so easily to adults as it comes to children. Thus, with those individuals I can empathize, but I cant respect them.

This is where in a state of complete helplessness, all one needs is a two second of concern and a gentle smile that "all will be well". No wonder Munnabhai is one of the best characters to come on screen in recent years, so much so that you wish that every hospital had a post called "the healer" without the patient knowing it who he or she is.

Coming back to the sob-story, on 21st October, MNS (Maharashtra Navnirman Sena) called for a local transport strike. No auto taxi or cab was allowed to ply on Bombay roads. On this fateful day, everything that could have gone wrong went wrong. A "stranger to this city" Tanmay and a workaholic Akanksha were subjected to run from pillar to post in a city that they were far from familiar. They knew no good doctors, no good hospital and almost no good people.

Akanksha's colleague came to help, she suggested her family doctor, Dr. Shenoy in Santacruz West, Shastri Nagar. On examining me for five minutes, Dr. Shenoy told us to rush for a Blood Test. The apocalypse had begun. The blood sample took away whatever little energy I had. I sat there on the steps of that "world's most expensive" (or so I thought) laboratory. Akanksha rushed to an ATM and Tanmay ran to get some food, whatever he could lay his hands on. At that moment, even in that state, it occurred to me how could someone feel if he/she is left alone to die in a city of billions.

The results of the Blood Test were soon out and by the time the results came (in some 5 hours), I had completely lost consciousness, as they say "life was getting blurred and out of focus", the only thing I remember is Tanmay's mom, Ruchi Aunty and Akanksha talking to Dr. Shenoy over the phone and uttering words like "admit", "hospital", "ambulance".

Before I knew, I was inside an ambulance that was enjoying its fast pace on the empty streets of Mumbai at 7 30 pm, the so-called rush hour in the evening. Well, in a certain sense it was a rush hour. As we reached hospital, there was a wheel-chair ready, on which I was put and the only visual I saw or I remember is Tanmay paying the ambulance driver.

Now as they show in movies, big hospitals have their own way of dealing with any and every kind of patients.

"25,000/- deposit" said the man at the reception. Remember those were early days in Mumbai to have your bank account filled with that much amount.

And as it happens in the movies, like a fairy tale godmother came Bhavya Mishra with her Citi Bank card. Whoa, the next minute I was in the ICU with all kinds of needles, tubes, bottles, sharp objects, bandages and an army of nurses working. Dr. Abhishek Bhargav entered the ICU, he was informed by Akanksha and Dr. Shenoy about the Blood count and all the different kinds of numbers from haemoglobin to platelets, from WBC to RBC. Akanksha was talking like an expert with the doctors and for a moment I thought, "was she an undercover Doctor" like Dipti Naval in that film, when Utpal Dutt gets a heart stroke. Ah- the perils of being a movie buff, you can never gauge the seriousness of a situation. Many more tests were conducted, with no certain results - neither it was Dengue, nor it was the deadly Falciparum. Even the virus was confused. The only thing they knew was that the platelet count in blood had gone terribly low and there was no resistance power left in the body. If it was mental resistance, I could have shown "Who's your daddy!", but here I didn't have a choice.

I came to senses when there were five people rubbing my feet, like that monotone sound that suddenly switches to the atmosphere sounds. From then till next seven days, I was subjected to the pungent odour of the hospital, the sight of patients with even more dangerous problems, shift-changing nurses, regular visits from concerned relatives, ever-increasing medical bills, a sense of claustrophobia, a set of worried parents and my worst fear in life - those Knife-like POINTED god-damned Injections.

The most touching memory of this whole incident: Hospitals have this system of Lunch for relatives of patients. Over one such lunch, my father broke down and couldn't end thanking Dr. Akanskha "from the depth of his heart" for saving Hardik. (from the depth of one's heart)

This week, 21st-27th October is the first anniversary of that incident.

I cannot end this write-up without this: Thank you Tanmay, Ruchi Aunty, Bhavya and Dr. Akanksha. I owe it to you.
(let it sound like an Oscar speech, after all life is precious)



© Copyrights 2009 www.bhaandgroup.blogspot.com. All Rights Reserved. Hardik Mehta

A year after post graduation.

12 months, 13 destinations. 3 films and unlimited journeys.

Sounds like a movie title. Yes of course, last year has been like a roller coaster ride. From running errands, walking incessantly, clicking the camera, writing and learning on the screenwriter to managing 3 films – one student, one commercial and one independent.
If that journey is not enough than the physical journeys have made up for them.

May - Sometime around last May, it started with picking up my bags and going to the ISBT bus depot in Delhi. Got a bus for Haridwar and reached at the ghats at around 1 am.

Ek baat sach bolte hain, Ganga maiyya ki kasam - Agar Ganga maiyya ke darshan karne ho – toh sabse best time hai raat 2 se subah 4 ke beech. It’s amazing to sit on the steps of those ghats with your feet immersed in the cold rushing water at midnight. There is hardly a soul around. Maybe one of those junky babas who is one of the “Raat ka Musafirs”. The lights, the water, the flow, and the night – it all adds up to the charm. You feel blessed for that moment. Exchange this scene with day time and am sure half of us would want to run away seeing the public urinal that the river gets converted into.

June – I have never had a wonderful friend who also happens to be the faculty of Jamia. From staying over at his place at weekends, to watching cricket matches with him and now in june – he asked me to join for a trip to Allahbad. In the heat of June, he got behind the Santro steering and I besides him. Some journey it is to get through the heartland of UP to reach to Allahbad. Again happened to meet the river, although she was in a different state of mind here, as compared to what she was in Haridwar. Yamuna meets Ganga here. Went to the Kumbh Mela grounds. The worst part - the whole trip to and fro from Allahbaad was without my wallet. I forgot it at his place on the morning we started.

July – Mumbai-Delhi-Mumbai: Shuffled between editing, vivas and meeting the new film crew.

August – September – Jaisalmer. Couldn’t believe seeing what a movie shoot looks like. On the first day of shoot, 18th Aug – I saw some 25 to 30 vehicles, around 120 people – all of it breaking the morning silence of a sleepy Rajasthan barren land called Khaba. Entering the tent, I made a remark to one of my colleagues – “Socha na tha”. And out came Abhay from his vanity. One of my remarks caught me off guard in front of director Dev Benegal and bas phir toh kheench-taani ka silsila shuru ho gaya…” September end also saw the shoot of Road, Movie going to Jodhpur.

October – ICU of a Hospital. Criti Care. Andheri West. All 2 years of Delhi’s bahar ka khana showed its true colors. Add to it the heat of Rajasthan for 2 months. It had to be hospital.

November – Baroda-Mumbai: took some “forcible” rest at home and joined back on the film on post-production.

December – Kutch, Gujarat. The most amazing landscape that I have seen after the Srinagar-Leh route. Road, Movie continues.

January-Feb-March – Mumbai, Mumbai, Mumbai. The Edit starts and so does my running around. The post-production is where you get the maximum time with the director. Never miss that.

April – Pune, Kolkata, Gangtok, Nathu-la (almost). Was just 10kms away, when the landslide happened and the weather got worse from bad. But alas, the journey was satisfying. China kisi aur din jaake aayenge. Unko jaake kahenge, boss yeh Arunachal toh chhodo. Tibet ki toh tum vaat lagaa chukke ho…

The last year – well, its been a Road, Movie for sure

“chal toh tu pada hai, faasla bada hai…!”
Dekh andhere ke sar pe khoon chadda hai…” Rahul Ram – you are too good in this song


copyrights for the photo: hardik mehta