AUTHOR'S NOTE: BHAI MEANS BROTHER

*~*~*

Lifeline hospital.

I sit quietly, purse my lips hard and control my nerves not to wince. I feel tears burning in my eyes but I push my head backward sending them away. I swallow my tears. I am a big girl and big girls don't cry.

"You can't be away from trouble, can you?" Sneha Didi sighs as the nurse examines and cleans my wounds. "I know we hadn't met since long but I never wished to meet you like this." I shrug my shoulders, giving a half smile on her way and appreciating her attempt to lighten my mood. She is one of my brother's schoolmates and doing her internship here in this hospital.

And about the cuts, this time the accident isn't my mistake. A little girl came in front of my car from nowhere and in an attempt to save her I lost the control over my car and got into a small accident, hitting one street light pole across the road. The sudden impact broke the windshield and some of the glass pieces pierced my hand. Luckily, this hospital was nearby and Sneha Didi spotted me outside the emergency ward.

"Finally done," the nurse announces, bandaging my left arm and leaves the room. Sneha Didi picks up my prescription paper which the doctor scribbled few times before.

"Anything serious?" I ask, inspecting my left hand. It does not look too bad, plus the pain has subdued a little.

"Everything is fine, you're lucky that glass doesn't get deep into your flesh. Just make sure you don't strain your left hand for three or four days and these medicines will help you to heal faster." She passes me the prescription. "And I informed your brother―"

I gape at her with wide eyes.

"Wait. You informed him?"

"Yes, Tarun knows about your accident. He will be here any moment."

I shake my head in disappointment.

"You don't have to do that. It was really not needed."

She shouldn't have called him. Now he will be worried sick for nothing.

"It's our duty to inform the family, Saanjh." She pats my shoulder. "I've to leave now."

"That's fine. You go."

She moves across the hospital room to the closed door. But before she reaches the door, it opens feverishly, revealing my brother. He looks pretty awful. He doesn't have his coat which he wore in the morning, his ironed white shirt is wrinkled, his hairs is dishevelled with a string of sweat beads over his forehead, and lastly his tie loosely hung round his neck. He always likes to maintain himself presentable but today he doesn't look like a businessman.

Tarun Khurrana, my elder brother, the owner of the InLight Restaurant. I feel guilty for making him so distressed. He has a meeting with an investor whom he had been chasing for months and I must have ruined it all.

"Saanjh, you okay?" He jogs and kneels down on his one knee in front of me, checking me from head to toe. "How did this happen?" he inquires again after examining my injured hand for a minute and gently holds it in his own.

"Bhai! Bhai! Calm down. See, it's just some mere scratches," I defend myself lamely because it was a white lie. Completely.

"Scratches? You really think your whole arm is bandaged due to some mere scratches?" he yells, stressing 'mere' as it's some bad thing and then turns to the only other person present in that room.

Phew! Saved.

"Sneha, anything serious?" he asks, standing up in his place and regaining his posture but still holding my hand.

I roll my eyes. "I had already asked this."

He shoots a glare in my way. Sighing, I instantly zip my mouth and place the index finger over my lips.

"You are not allowed to drive from now," he orders.

I whine. "You can't do that! I do have a license."

"License to get into accident like this. Never." Although he is exaggerating but his reaction doesn't surprise me. I see this coming. "No. Car."

I tear my eyes away from him and look out from the window.

"Don't worry, she is fine," Sneha Didi's voice fills the silence. "The doctor had given her prescription, just make sure she takes the medicines on time and bring her for dressing tomorrow." — Then she turns to face me — "And yes, Saanjh, if you want you can take the Tetanus Vaccine some other day."

Vaccine?

Only by the name of it, my throat dries up.

"Next time will be fine and thank you so much for looking after me, Didi," I smile in an instant reply. She nods, closing the door as she leaves us alone. I quickly jump from the hospital bed and move towards the door with long steps following her lead. All ready to flee from here.

"Dare you step out," Tarun Bhai's deep voice halts my left foot in the air. The threat is clear—the consequence won't be good. I will be grounded.

I gulp and turn to face him, passing a toothy smile. I stretch my cheeks so much that it hurts.

"Bhai, see my whole hand is bandaged." I lift my arm forward. "How will the nurse give me that injection? Moreover, we are coming back tomorrow to change the dressing, right? I will take it then, ple . . . eee . . . se."

Say yes, please.

"I'm sure she can inject it in your other hand." He takes a step near me and lifts an eyebrow, clearly implying, 'you can't win over me'.

My eyes turn big and round in reflex as I stick out my lower lip.

"Bha . . . aa . . . ai." I try my luck.

"No," —he shakes his head— "back to your place."

I puff my cheeks, huffing and stomping my foot on the floor, I pull my body against my will back to the hospital bed. I climb on it while my one hand supports the movement of the injured one and sit leg-crossed, murmuring some harmless curses. "Idiot and stubborn brother never listens to me."

He chuckles, earning a glare from me.

"That glare won't work on me." I open my mouth to say something more but he shows his finger, passing a stern look. "No more argument. You wait here; I will shortly be back from the pharmacy."

I sigh and sit there, gazing the surroundings. The room is not that large. The walls are inartistic white, with a glass window to my left. The navy blue curtains are tied at the end of the window letting the rays of the sun enlighten the room. The side wall holds a tube-light hanging on it. There is a small door in the room, probably a bathroom. Machines and medical equipment are all around me, the room smells like medication.

I don't like it a bit. It makes me nauseous.

Ignoring the feeling and the ambiance, I concentrate on my hand. My brother is the only world to me, and the same goes with him too. My mother died when I was four. I barely remember her now, just some unclear flashes of her nothing more. He and my father always used to say that I resemble like her. We were happy, but happiness never stays long. Everything started coming to a downfall—Dad's business was not doing well and Tarun Bhai wanted to do something else, something different from Dad. And then, an unexpected thing happened, Dad was diagnosed with Leukaemia. He was at the Stage II. Although we had money then and we tried everything possible but nothing worked out. Dad always tried to hide his pain from us but we could see. It was unfortunate for him that we were old enough to understand the things going around us. But it was really tough to act strong and put up a smile on our faces when we face him, only to make him believe that we were okay. Tarun Bhai and I would cry holding each other whenever Dad wasn't around us. Then he too left us. I knew after his death things were never going to be same as before. But Tarun Bhai rolled his sleeves up and stepped into my father's shoes. He worked hard, day and night, to set up his restaurant. He named it InLight—the light that comes within. Now it has been three years since Dad passed away and slowly yet steadily we learnt to live again.

Suddenly, my cheeks feel wet. Oh . . . tears. Wiping them quickly, I enter the washroom and wash my face properly. I don't want my brother to see me crying. He will become upset.

"Saanjh!"

He is back.

"Coming! Just one minute."

I dry my face, brush my hair using my fingers and lastly dusts my dress, setting it properly. Finally, I check myself in the mirror present there and after confirming that I look presentable I exit the washroom.

Tarun Bhai is standing across the room with a nurse beside him. When he eyes me, he quickly rushes by my side. "Is everything okay?" he asks. His forehead creases with thin lines.

"Chill, big brother. I was just freshening up."

From the corner of my eyes, I glance at the nurse who is busy with unpacking the injection without any clue what I am going through.

"Ma'am, please sit," she gestures at the bed. I gulp a huge lump.

Oh God!

"Is it important to take it today, Bhai?" I try my luck once more, giving him my best pleading look. "Please!"

He does not melt, not even a bit.

Heartless brother.

Today is definitely not my day.

Having no other option I sit on the edge of my bed, sulking.

I tightly shut my eyes, clench my jaws when the nurse swabs a small area of my right arm with spirit, finding my vein.

I pray numerous times, almost remembering each and every God, I know.

"Saanjh, it's done. Now open your eyes."

Done? Really? But I don't feel anything. I open an eye, but only in a slit. To my relief, it was really done. The nurse puts the cotton ball back in my arm. I hold it diligently with my bandaged hand.

"Are you fine?" My brother asks, concerned.

I nod meekly, feeling little bit dizzy. I hate injections and hospitals.

"Okay then, let's go." He put his hands around my shoulder supporting me so I do not trip because of my heels while moving out of the door.

Once we reach at parking outside in daylight, he opens the door of the passenger seat of his black Maruti Suzuki. When I slide in, he marches to the driving seat. Getting in his place, he leans towards me and buckles my seat belt then his.

"Comfortable?" He inquires, bringing the engine to life.

"Yeah, I just want to go from here. It's suffocating," I murmur closing my eyes and lean back against the leather seat.

I hear his laugh as he pulls the car on the main road.