Indian Ameri


The Wheel Chair

“F**k you all! I need to talk to the doctor!” furiously shouted the University senior quarterback Leon at his team mates.
“Boy! Get your marbles. Don’t make a fuzz about the situation”, replied Coach Martin in an inferno tone.
“It’s only a bruise coach. I can play the championship eyes closed. Come On! It’s the Boars for Pete’s sake” “I hate sitting in this bed” continued Leon.

The doctor’s advice of keeping Leon in bed rest resulted in disappointment among the university supporters. Three days later, the jumpers won by a huge margin with the help of the new heroic quarterback. Three months have gone down the clock, and Leon was still recovering from his injury. With the semester coming to an end, the prospective of making into the club teams seemed a gargantuan struggle.
Pointing at the wheel chair the doctor said, “You can now move around the hospital”
With bed rest loosening his muscles, Leon lost all hopes of feeling a smile reach his lips. Two days into the recovery period, Leon lost interest in a comeback. Head drooped, eyes focused on his left bruised ankle, he cursed every second of his post trauma life. He avoided all fans, press and even his family. The wheel chair seemed like a biggest rejection of his life. He lost all spark to live.

“Hi Mr. Ummm…. Hmmmm… Mr. Leon”, muttered Vikram reading the patients name from the pad. “I am going to be your patient trasporter for today”, continued Vikram in his typical Indian accent.
‘Ah! Great! He doesn’t even know who I am’ thought Leon.

While Vikram felt that the day was running faster than it seems, Leon scrounged every thing he saw or felt or talked to. Vikram noticed his sense of disappointment in life. He tried talking to Leon, but he never got a chance to utter any comfortable words.

As both neared the bridge between the hospital and the recovery center, Vikram tried one more time, “Mr. Leon. Can you tell me about football?”
“F**k you! Am pissed off sitting in this wheel chair. I can’t even walk you a*****. Get the hell out of my face you ******”
Leon threw invectives at Vikram.

A push is all Leon felt from behind and the wheel chair raced against the bridge ramp. He drifted to the left, missed the nearby by passer. As he was about to hit the left wall, Leon gave a push at it using his hands, and now the chair veered vibrantly to the right going straight to the parking lot elevators. Leon’s mind went blank enough to forget about the brakes installed in the new chairs. None of the other people walking in the bridge tried to catch his wheel chair. As he was about to crash into the opening elevator doors, Leon decided to dump out of the chair. As he was about to jump, he noticed a small girl coming out of the elevator holding a teddy bear. With no other option, Leon heaved himself out of the chair and jumped around to stop the raging chair from hitting the girl or the elevator. As the chair came to a stop, Leon, threw the chair with fury and ran towards Vikram like a raging bull. He evaded every person who witnessed the incident and reached Vikram. Minutes later, Vikram was on the floor holding his left eye pounding with pain. Vikram got up from his ground, and looked at the 6 foot 3 quarterback and said, “How does your ankle feel now? LOSER!!!”

Several months later, on a Friday evening, Vikram checked his mail looking for his pay stub, and he found a ticket and a note which read,
‘Hey buddy! How’s the black eye doing? I’ve got tickets to the Super bowl (Making it to the playoffs, I’ve got them free). How about accepting the ticket and coming over to the game. I’ll be there to teach you what football is all about’

Off the Chair: With bro taking the car with him to his new work place, mom and dad are ‘torturing’ me into buying my first car (at least this time they want me to buy it for self). Strangely I’ve been avoiding discussions on how I managed to pay off all debts and am avoiding any discussion related to the car torture. But somehow, today I’m feeling very much interested in a bike (a Yamaha) rather than a car. I’m just behaving normal like I used to do when all I had to take care of was I. But with this bike interest, shadowing through my mind, I’m confused over the question, “Am I turning into a rotten kid?”

posted by Hariharasudhan Cd at Thursday, February 21, 2008


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