The Fateful Night

Life is all about surprises or may be shocks. We never know what is lying ahead and this is the fact we have to move on with. June 24, 2013 is the date that I will never forget, though I really want to. That was the night which changed things, my perception, my social life and a lot more.

It was the evening of June 23, 2013. I was packing my bags to leave for my hostel. Papa would accompany me and return by the next bus. We had to take the night bus to the other city and it would be a tedious eight hour journey.

We boarded the bus at around 9:30 PM and had taken our seats. Papa had asked me if I would prefer the sleeper coach but I had opted out. Hence we were seated. After a good conversation, Papa dozed off while I was feeling very uneasy. I could feel that the driver was too rash in driving and somehow wanted out journey to end soon. Some people even went to complain about the driving, but the driver was hardly paying heed to them.

I could not sleep a moment and was looking out, through the sealed window. The AC was in full swing and hence I had put my dupatta around my neck to cover my head and ears, from the cold air.

Suddenly around 3 in the morning, I felt a thud. It was as if, something had hit the bus. It took me a jiffy to realize that the bus was tilting as it moved. I looked out and saw that we were falling down. I called out to Papa, "Get up !! We are falling over a bridge". Listening to me, Papa, in his sleep, flung his hands around to pull me towards him and we tried getting up from our seats. My dupatta which was around my neck, got stuck to something and I could feel my throat clasped up. However, with one hand, I tore it off and released myself.

In the next moment, we realized that the branch of a tree had penetrated through our window and that had stopped the bus from rolling over. The lights inside the bus were all gone and everyone was calling out for help. The bus was tilted to an extent where the seats were upwards and the sleeper coaches were downwards. Papa with his right hand, switched on the torchlight of his mobile phone and to our horror, we saw massive blood flow from his left elbow, but his hand was gone! Yes, while Papa pulled me towards him in his sleep, the branch had penetrated and chopped off his hand. Had he not done so, I would have lost my entire left hand.

Papa asked me to try getting out of the bus as he was unable to move. I somehow convinced him to stay unnerved and held his hand. We crawled our way out, broke the front glass pane and jumped out. We were in a swamp, in the middle of a secluded forest area. There was a light drizzle and our thoughts could not tell, what would our next step be.

In a minute, we noticed a rustic, rushing towards us. We could not see his face owing to the darkness. He showed us the way out of the swamp and took us to the road side. There, all of a sudden, we noticed a fire brigade van. We asked for lift and they immediately carried us and some other passengers to the nearby hospital.

The nearest hospital was 36 km afar and we were provided first aid over there. Later, they shifted us to another hospital where we would be operated upon.

Papa had lost a lot of blood and was in a very critical stage. I called up as many friends and relatives I knew of, to know about any help we could get. Soon, people flocked in and arrangements were made. I was the first to have a surgery. My left palm was completely crushed and veins damaged. I had to undergo a plastic surgery and the doctor later informed us, "Had you been an hour late, we would have to amputate your palm. The veins were damaged and your hand was drying up!"

We also got to know that four lost their lives in the dreaded mishap while someone lost a leg.

I had to undergo four more surgeries in the course of a year to heal up completely. As for Papa, though he lost his hand, he was happy to have saved me from something more unfortunate.

People viewed this event in a variety of manner. Some even said that I should not study and stay far from home, but we took all of these in our stride. My parents always supported me and gave me strength. We sometimes wonder, "What if the branch had not penetrated our window? The bus might have rolled over and no one in it would have come back alive!"

God always plans for something good. When He gave suffering, He made sure to give a whole lot of strength to bear the same. It has been five years now. Papa has got a prosthetic hand. He can drive his car, lift weights and most importantly be a role model of courage and selflessness to others. As for me, I am more of a confident person now. That night, I realized that I could be up and going in times of adversity. My hand will never look the same again. It does not straighten up and there is less strength in it but the strength that has been added to my spirit will never leave me.