It was a long winter night. The dream was nightmarish. Though I am conscious of having troubled sleep after ¾am, it was continuing till I woke up around 6 am.

 The dream of last night

I found myself what appears to be a hotel room. I was kind of sick. I slept, drank tea, gazed out of a window, and slept again. Later I felt it was not a hotel room but a hospital cabin. And I was put there and I was locked. Still, I had access to the outside world as I went to a tea stall and remembered sipping tea sitting on a broken stool. The weather at that time was rainy. As I was sitting there and looking across the road, tiny water waves were coming out of the houses and shops situated there. One last wave was a little big that crossed the road and shook my stool and stability. A shopkeeper came out of one of those shops and asked me whether I had had my bath or not. He told me to go have a bath and come back- as if we all going to resume the same tea-sipping, waves thing the rest of the day.

I walked to the hospital cabin what I felt at moment was a hotel room. The road was hilly. I felt the place was somewhere in Koraput. It was indeed a hospital room. I felt sick and had a sleep. The room was dark probably because I had switched off all the lights. There was a knock on the door. Though the door was made of solid wood, I could see a foreign-looking doctor outside of the door. There might be a male nurse and some huge machinery which I could not notice clearly. I was disturbed by their presence. I was afraid. The foreign-looking doctor had a book in his hand which I felt he was reading on his way to my room. I was a little relieved that the door was locked from inside. In a blink of an eye, I felt that there was never a door. They came into my room. And behind them entered a piece of scary machinery. They put some needles into my veins after which I fell unconscious. There I was in a hospital corridor. I was looking outside through a window, there was a huge lake or reservoir surrounded by hills and mountains. I felt I had been given anesthesia and will be operated on once I fell unconscious. I could sense that they were going to remove my kidney.

I went to a lady nurse who might be there waiting to take me into OT. I asked her whether they will remove my kidney and sell it. I felt the nurse had something to do with this all. I felt her face was resembling a thin Rani Mukherji or that actress who had played the nurse in Ludo film. I felt she was my ex-girlfriend/wife. I asked her why she was doing this. I told her to admit that she still loves me. I did not agree even if she denied that.

A doctor came and he was no more looking that foreign. I asked him why they were selling my kidney. He replied something that made me slap him. He asked me why I hit him. I said if someone replies funnily I hit him. He repeated what I said then dragged me to the OT. The nurse followed, it all appeared dark and gloomy.

And I woke up.

The reality of the previous day

I take leftover lunch and put it on a cement slab across the road in front of my home for the stray dogs, squirrels, and birds everyday. Yesterday when I went there I saw an old man sitting on that slab. It was a chilly winter day, I thought he was there to warm up under the sun. When I left for office later, that old man was still there.

Around 5 pm father called me and asked whether or not I had seen an old man sitting outside. I said yes. He then went on to narrate that –

the old man is not from this locality. He is not saying our language. He is a helpless fellow, he is unable to stand, he keeps pointing towards her left leg which is probably broken, he mumbles something which might mean mosquitoes. He might be left there by his family or son in order to be got rid of. I have given him a bedsheet and a young passer-by has brought him biscuit and water. He is unable to eat but had some water.

Father asked me to look for some old age home where we can leave the old man. Otherwise, the old man might die this night from cold and mosquito bites. He himself had searched and found some contacts of old age home in the city but none of them were responding. One particular organization said that ‘what they can do’,  that we should call the police. Father also informed the nearby police check post but there was no action. “Had it been my hometown, I could do something on my own” – my father expressed. I also tried searching, consulted some of my colleagues about the situation. My boss was able to get a number but said that this has been a regular phenomenon in the city where people dump their ailing parents on the streets and vanishes into thin air. Father called that number but there was no response. After an hour or two, one of my colleagues was able to find a contact of another NGO who can help. It was 8 pm and when I called my father to share that number, father informed me that the old man was finally picked up by the police a while ago. When I returned from the office, my father said that

we are living in a locality where people are colder than the weather. None of them responded seeing this situation outside their home. They probably would have if the old man had been dead and smelling.

He narrated that – without finding any alternative, he called one of my cousins who do voluntary work for stray dogs and animals. My cousin came with one of his friends and tried to soothe the old man. They also made numerous calls to different NGOs, shelter homes but did not get any response. After some time, a police van came. The EIC told that they were informed by the nearby check post.

Father said that those policemen are the first policemen whom he considered to be the finest. The EIC also made numerous calls in his contact to settle the old man at some shelter but as usually there was no positive response. Some of the shelter homes replied they are full, they are closed due to covid, they are making new buildings, etc. Finally finding no alternative, the EIC took the old man to the police station where the old man can at least spend the night without getting cold. He promised he will do a medical check-up and treat if the old man has a broken leg. He will settle him somewhere somehow. Father said one kind constable feed the oldman the biscuits and water till the old man is full. The old man was speaking some tribal language. In the end, when the policemen went to take the old man into the van, he allowed them to be taken away.

The way I see it

The rest of the evening, father went on criticizing society. He laughed at the member association of our locality that has been formed to take care of such things. I was thinking about the same thing on my way back home. I already knew how cold and cruel people of our locality are, but I wondered about the existence of such NGOs. I thought about the helplessness we faced in settling that old man. But what I thought the most was the helplessness of the old man himself. I did not know, and still don’t know what the old man will do for the rest of his life. Where he will spend his days and his nights. He is no more the master of himself. He is now dependent. His every action will now be determined by other people. I cannot imagine such a situation for myself. I heard a dialogue in a Netflix series I watched yesterday night that how the Russians are social and how they help each other, but how the Americans are individualistic. These days I am afraid of the fact that I am adopting the same individualistic persona for myself. I avoid asking people for help with a feeling that people usually become troubled in such situations. I help people when asked but do not do so spontaneously. I dread to lose my freedom. I fear being dependent on someone. And yet I have decided to lead a single life. I am afraid of being taken and locked in a room. And I am afraid of the fact that this is also the way of life; this is the way the universe moves. I am just wondering now that whether I will be dragged into the OT or allow to be taken away.