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An Unforgettable Experience
Hemanta Sen
Short Essay
To our outmost surprise and disgust we found out that even this brother of uncle, due to some reason, was reluctant to write a death certificate.
Someone suggested to us about a lady doctor who stayed in that same locality and was present during the last moments to check uncle’s pulse. She was the one who had actually confirmed that uncle had expired. TD and I ran to her house. As she opened her door we were almost out of breath because the elevator was out of order. We had to climb all the way up to the fourth floor, which was still not that bad. It seemed that she already knew why we were there and denied our request for the death certificate, the reason being that she was a dentist and not a general physician. Her husband was also a doctor but he was an employee of the same hospital where we took uncle earlier and if he wrote the certificate his job would be at stake. Somebody told us to go to the nearby government hospital to see if we can get any help from there.
It was already dark by the time we reached there. As we were hunting around for doctors, we found a few men gathered in one of the rooms playing cards. When I knocked the door to ask for help, one of them asked me what the matter was. I told him I needed a death certificate and was looking for a doctor. He said with a smiling face “thare bap mar ge ke” in Jat, meaning “has your father expired”. I gravely responded that it was my friend’s dad and not mine to which he shouted back rudely saying that I should not expect any doctor’s help at this hour as there
It was already dark by the time we reached there. As we were hunting around for doctors, we found a few men gathered in one of the rooms playing cards. When I knocked the door to ask for help, one of them asked me what the matter was. I told him I needed a death certificate and was looking for a doctor. He said with a smiling face “thare bap mar ge ke” in Jat, meaning “has your father expired”. I gravely responded that it was my friend’s dad and not mine to which he shouted back rudely saying that I should not expect any doctor’s help at this hour as there
none around. Both TD and I strolled towards my car in disgust. To add to the misery, out of the dark emerged a man to ask for the parking charge. This was the state of our government hospital in Gurgaon.
The last resort was to call my friends at AIIMS, the country’s premiere medical institution, and ask for their help. They were all doctors now and were eager to help me when I talked to them over the phone. We scheduled a time to reach there by 10-10.30pm. While reserving for an ambulance, I came to know that to carry a dead body in the ambulance would cost us 3 times more than when a person was alive. When we told this new arrangement of AIIMS to Radhika’s family they were kind of reluctant to keep uncle so far away from the house and wanted his body to be preserved at the same local hospital close to the their house. TD wanted to give one last shot and request for the death certificate from the lady doctor’s husband, who by this time had returned from his work. This man seemed to me as a gentleman who knew his responsibilities to be a doctor. Without any hesitation he gave us the certificate. With this piece of paper, we could keep the body in the mortuary for the next three days till the time ‘bhaiya’ came and the funeral took place.
It was a bitter experience which made me think and realize the flaws in our system and society. It forced me to think about all those who die in the street daily and what their relatives go through. In the words of Rachit (my friend), “It is only the death for the family; to all others it is just a mode of business”.
The last resort was to call my friends at AIIMS, the country’s premiere medical institution, and ask for their help. They were all doctors now and were eager to help me when I talked to them over the phone. We scheduled a time to reach there by 10-10.30pm. While reserving for an ambulance, I came to know that to carry a dead body in the ambulance would cost us 3 times more than when a person was alive. When we told this new arrangement of AIIMS to Radhika’s family they were kind of reluctant to keep uncle so far away from the house and wanted his body to be preserved at the same local hospital close to the their house. TD wanted to give one last shot and request for the death certificate from the lady doctor’s husband, who by this time had returned from his work. This man seemed to me as a gentleman who knew his responsibilities to be a doctor. Without any hesitation he gave us the certificate. With this piece of paper, we could keep the body in the mortuary for the next three days till the time ‘bhaiya’ came and the funeral took place.
It was a bitter experience which made me think and realize the flaws in our system and society. It forced me to think about all those who die in the street daily and what their relatives go through. In the words of Rachit (my friend), “It is only the death for the family; to all others it is just a mode of business”.
