Geetanjali Express leaves Howrah Station minus my wife and me

It happened a couple of years back and my wife was at the receiving end.,br> She comes from a family that had known cases of cardiac problems – her father suffered a severe stroke while traveling in a bus in Kolkata and expired before any help could arrive. Her elder brother also suffered a stroke while at work and survived because of immediate hospitalization. He now wears a pacemaker. Therefore, it was but natural that my wife also be a probable victim due to the hereditary factor.
She did have some problems related to the heart and was taking regular medicines for blood pressure as well as the cardiac problems. There was an instance when she had lost consciousness as we waited in the hospital for meeting the doctor. She had undergone a full checkup and certified as fit.

Anyway, in 2013, we had made a program to spend some time in Kolkata during the Durga Pujas. We also planned to visit Puri and had booked train tickets and hotel reservation in the seaside resort. It was the year when Orissa was hit by Cyclone Phailin followed by floods and disaster beyond imagination.
Our stay in Kolkata during the Durga Pujas was full of fun as was the trip to Orissa.
Finally, it was time to return and, on the appointed day, we arrived at Howrah Station to board the Geetanjali Express. My brother-in-law had come to see us off and, as the train was entering the platform, disaster struck – my wife lost her balance and, literally collapsed. I had to hld on to her and, gradually lowered her on the bench. My brother-in-law immediately summoned his driver and, instead of boarding the train, we got into his car and sped to the hospital.
The train left without my wife and me.
The doctor in the Emergency Ward carried out a few preliminary tests and advised immediate hospitalization because my wife’s pulse rate was very low. My brother-in-law discussed with his family physician who suggested that my wife be put on Holter monitoring for 24-hours. (to be continued …)

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It was a big relief when my son announced his decision and, when we wanted to know why he had not confided in us earlier, he just grinned and said ‘marriages are made in heaven’. We realized that he had grown up and we have to respect his decision.
Once the first part was over, we had to make a trip to Kolkata to meet the would-be daughter-in-law’s family members. Yes, she was from Kolkata and was from a small family. It was a match that was a sort of made-for-each-other affair. The date had to be finalized and the invitation cards had to be selected, printed and distributed.

The selection of the cards was another confusing affair. My wife and I went to College Street where there are rows and rows of outlets who specialize in invitation cards of all types. We could have selected it straight away but, for the sake of maintaining decorum, we brought back a couple of samples and returned back the next day to place the firm order.
There had to be two sets of cards – in Bengali for relatives and friends in Kolkata and in English for those back in Nashik. We also had to have two sets of reception – one in Kolkata, the other in Nashik. And, for the reception in Nashik, there would be a few selected invitees from both sides. Their railway reservations had to be made. The date settled upon was in July – monsoon season.
And, we had to do the marketing disregarding the rains and flooded streets. It was all very exciting and, when the event was finally completed and when we all boarded the Geetanjali Express to return to Nashik, we all heaved a sigh of relief.
Out five year plan had successfully ended. (to be continued …)
(Image courtesy wikimediacommons.org)

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I am unable to walk – my doctors send me to Mumbai hospital

It happened so suddenly that I was caught completely unawares. I woke up at night and when I put my foot on the ground, I could not stand upright. There was no strength in my legs – it seemed to be made of stone.
My wife got in a panic and called my son who was in the next room. He supported me and I walked down one step at a time to the scooter downstairs. Then he took me to the hospital and the duty doctor put me on traction.
It was a sort of dislocation in the hip joint and must have happened when I had taken the car battery stairs for charging. Whatever it be, I was in trouble and, with my mobility in the factory affected, my bosses felt that I should get better treatment. They discussed the matter with the Doctors and they asked me to go to Mumbai and get the opinion of an orthopedic specialist.

Since HAL had links with major hospitals in Mumbai and all I had to do was to go there armed with the necessary papers and authority. Therefore, I left for Mumbai – accompanied by my wife. We traveled by the Gitanjali Express in which short-distance passengers were not allowed. But, the TTE was kind enough to allow me in view of my medical condition.
My brother stayed in Worli, Mumbai, and he had sent across his car. We spent the night in his flat and next morning went to the hospital. The orthopedic specialist was a Bengali doctor and he examined selected number of patients while his juniors examined the others.
I had come from HAL and, hence, I was in his special category.
He went through the papers, asked me about my problems and then picked up a rubber mallet and lightly tapped my knees. Then he asked me to stand on tiptoe and walk around the room. Finally, he gave his advice – ‘behave normally, nothing serious has happened to you’.
His assurance itself was a huge relief to me. (Image courtesy wikimediacommons.org)

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