The Wound Is Still Not Healed

The Wound Is Still Not Healed

Rash driving is a sign of weak mind, no consideration for own and others lives. No love for the loved ones waiting at home. Its an act of self-centered person

Sameer Ahsan
Motto of life,,,to do my best ever so ,I wont repent in my life.

After a hard day’s toil, I would have left my office at the closing time 6:00 pm that day. But, unlikely I prolonged my stay for an hour followed by an extra load of work. The next day a team was supposed to call to look into the progress of the firm. Ascertained by their visit, an order was levied to complete the assigned work in stipulated time. I left the office at 7:00 pm and drove straight bound to Saket Mall in New Delhi area. 

Rahul, a friend of mine had notched a high rate success in CAT 2014. Moreover, to celebrate the joy of his success he had thrown a treat at Albake, an Asia fame restaurant, Saket Mall.

The due reaching time was 7:30 pm and I was already late. It would take not less than an hour to reach over there and I was well acquainted with the unusual reactions I would be showered at the late reach. Yet a hope, which governs at most instance, was there to reach at flying speed. Without losing a minute I took to Saket, least concentrating over steering and more around party - drove off at the most incredible speed. To proportionate the speed with time, I had looked twice into my watch and pressed the accelerator to the maximum take.

Unfortunately, having drove frantically some ten minutes of the distance the unexpected tossed around abruptly! When tried to overtake a small car, I lost the control over steering and my car got struck against the divider. It tossed and turned from side to side and immediately dragged off the road in the left. 

Fortune favored, I sustained minor fracture and bruises all over the body. I was in a deep state of pain but not out of wits, was cursing myself for the reason I had met the cause. Soon, frequent honking of a cars echoed around as if I had blocked the road. When looked out on the road through the broken windows, I saw the same car, which I tried to overtake, was standing parallel to mine. I thought, had it come to extend help and wanted to be sure whether I was in life. 

Having seen a woman inside, I waved my hands in hope but with strained access could hardly speak a sheer sentence of help, “Yes, could you help please…?” when instantly she interrupted in-between and said, “Good for you! But you are lucky”, and sped away. To her offensive and heartless reaction, I stayed dumbstruck and agitated but what little could I do than to comfort myself and capture the number in my eyes written in bold, ‘DL-Y-1900’ on the number plate of car. 

Now, instead attending party, doctors and friends attended me in the nearby hospital. Everybody alleged, “Nothing is more important than life”. “You could have come late, but safe!”. Rahul, who is usually aroused to anger often at late arrival said this time, “Life is more important than party and friends....”. 

I repented this mistake not as ever before for, I meted out to myself. Simultaneously nothing ever tormented me rather than the unusual behaviour of that woman. However, a week passed away on the hospital bed and I was roaming around the answer for, how could she behave that way?

If had she a little humane preserved, cruelty and rudeness would have never overpowered her conscience, I thought. Later, weeks after the accident I was back to office and on the very first day, sitting in my office chair and racked by the familiar desire, I thought, “Better to come out of a way to meet and seek explanation, for why she behaved silly. Else, I would not be ease at until knowing the reason behind her such conduct or preferably misconduct. If by chance I happened to meet her, I might elaborate the two chapters, ‘Morality and Humanity’ to her poor knowledge”. The woman inside the car had looked mature in her early thirties but her deportment to such a serious accident with frivolity and fun making mannerism haunted me ever. Therefore, it was better to make out a way as early as it could be.

After the office time, I left for her hunt and reached at a ‘T’ point, from where diverges a road for Saket, on which I had met with the fated accident weeks before. At that point, there were some paan shops where I parked my car. Having waited for more than twenty minutes I was struck by, ‘if she be a daily commuter then only would pass by, may be at a time difference of few minutes, else I should let the spirit of retaliation and seeking explanation go easy’. Last time, when I had met the accident she encountered me around 7:15 p.m. but it was already 7:30 and I was about to drive back home.

Soon, I saw a same small car colored white appear from a distance and I fixed my eyes on the number plate. When it reached close, the same number read as, ‘DL-Y-1900’. I was rather happy to see her and followed, to where she would go. Driving for an hour, she took a U-turn under a fly over and after two minutes of the straight drive opposite in the left, there was a multi-storey building where she drove into the basement parking. I too followed her and parked my car in the opposite row. Before, she would come out, I approached near, and wished a harsh evening and questioned gravely, “Do you know me?” Seeing me wrapped in wrath and anger, she looked into my eyes and responded, “Have we met before?”

To her oblivious response I said, “Yes, last month on the Saket road, when I was yelling out in pain, did you not wish more severe and sped away?” She frowned at me and spoke apologetically. “Yes I did, but…was that you? I didn’t wish pitiless good bye intending to be that you inside”. 

After listening her discourse, I asked gravely, “What do you mean, to be that I?” 

“Yes, I meant, what you understood exactly”, “I did not know who was inside the car but least I knew someone driving madly had met the accident”. Further she asked, “Were you not driving rash and mad that day?” 

I replied, “Yes, I did, but what made you sour?” 

“It's not about me only, it’s to do with all who want to drive safe back home and morons like you kill them half way”. “Those who drive frantically risking others life more than theirs on the road, I can’t extend my help or wish good to them ever.”

I intervened, “What is it, so much personal to you?"

“Yes, I do have personal and unhealed emotion yet”, she said wiping tears rolling down her cheeks. “Last month, from the account of an eye witness, I came to know that a man driving rash rammed his car into my husband’s and left my husband and five year old son breathe last on the road. Later, I got a call in the morning to receive their dead bodies from the central hospital of the city. Since then my joy of life is snatched away. I do not know exactly who brought the end to my happiness but I am sure he might be like you a heartless scavenger of happiness."

"Moreover, I am relieved seeing the killers ailing in pain. Everyone who drive the way risking others life on the road, in them I see a killer”. 

Further, in half consumed words she said, “Thank God! I was not killed that day, when you madly overtook my car otherwise who would have been behind old in-laws to look after.” 

Now, having listened to her my anger vanished away and I tried to soothe and placate her stroking softly on her fore head and realized that there could be no reason stronger than to drive safe without risking own life as well as others, least for those innocents who are behind every one of us to shed tears and suffer.

I thanked God for not culminating my madness into any deaths before, and her tears washed my indiscreet forever. At last I said - good bye and seek pardon on behalf of that anonymous who killed her husband and child, according to her. While driving rash everyone is like that man who rammed his car into her husband’s leaving him cold on the road.

Sameer Ahsan

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