Emergency Ward

The emergency ward is prelude to heavenly peace

Patients lying in rows of beds

With or without oxygen masks, and

Saline bottles hanging from their side-stands

A lonely fly passing from bed to bed

 

Senior Doctors are like God’s messengers

He finds out a pair of understanding eyes

Among the shadows called ‘patient party”,

And explains the science behind every singular death

Also keeps room for the miracle to happen

 

The shadows calculate their finance and sacrifices to be made,

Argue among themselves in low hushed-up tones,

Blames their fate, plans about attending the dying one

Calls their political connections for some fictive better treatment,

Also respond to the call of numerous other shadows

 

You always see a bunch of junior doctors and interns

Bright sunshine faces, learning, giggling at their

Repeated failures to set a rice-tube,

Discussing among themselves every little lesson they learn

Proud of their bright future

 

Young Nurses in their immaculate white dress

Address interns as doctor plus their first name

Otherwise hard as ice

To the shadows sitting on iron stools beside every bed

Their every word uttered is tinged with disgust and vague grievance

Meanwhile, life hangs on the drippings of saline water

Occasional injections, timed simultaneously;

“You can’t see prescription without permission from the superintended”

The daring shadow cowers back, this emergency cell

They all come here to breathe their last, in peace…

 

I once saw a film, traumatized doctors writhing in agony

Why all their efforts go in vain in this battle against death;

Such things happen only in films, here on earth

Cool verdict is passed, those who come here must die

Their condition is so serious….Nothing serious can be done…

 

 

Last modified: Wednesday, 16 November 2022, 8:20 AM