We were walking on a busy road on a monday Morning.  It was as if all the people in the city were suddenly reminded of their duties.  Everyone was in a mad rush to reach their places in time, not even slowing down at the school and college zones.  It happened in a split second. there was a thud sound, a silence followed by a huge cry.   The boy walking before us was hit by the bus.  I went into deep shock devoid of action.  Passers nearby carried him to the side and ambulance was called and he was admitted to the hospital.  The road became busy as usual.  For the next two days, that boy's face filled my thoughts and I was haunted by the bewildered look. On the third day, I asked my friend to accompany me to visit him and we both went to the hospital.

It was not difficult to locate him, and as we approached his ward, I became anxious.  I pulled up my courage and went to him.  He was in a conscious state and was surrounded by his family members and friends.  They are all visibly shaken by his plight.  It seemed like he was the only son in the family.

Slowly, my friend started conversing with his friends while I stood as a silent spectator.  It was learnt that the father of the boy wanted sue the bus driver, but the boy was against it but would not give reason.  The doctor came on rounds and objected to too many people around him, so we had to leave temporarily.

The next day also I managed to pull up my friend to visit him.  The boy knew that his life span was reduced to a day or two.  Both his kidneys were badly damaged.  He wanted to donate his organs that are intact and asked the doctor to help him with necessary paperwork.  The doctor was willing but was apprehensive about the boy's father.

 While we were about to enter the room, there was a serious conversation going on between the father and son.  "Daddy, let us be practical, even if we spend all the money, there is no guarantee that I will survive.  When death is inevitable, let me face it gracefully."  The father was not the one who is easily convinced, "My son, the thought of you dying itself is something which we don't want to live remembering.  When you are not there what difference will it make for us by your organ donation?  Our plight is still the same."  The boy knew his count down has begun and he must convince his father as quickly as possible.  He mustered strength and spoke to his father, "If I live with all my organs intact, my life at the best would be 100 years, but both of us know it is not going to be more than a day.  I want to live long, if not in one body, in different bodies, sharing their emotions, happiness, each and every single moment of life, dad, please give me this chance, I want to live, to live, and to live..."  A disturbing silence followed.

I stood praying outside not knowing what else to do.  The father was like a bundle of sorrow, not able to come to terms with what is happening and not having the courage to fulfil his son's wish.  Finally, when the doctor came on the routine visit, he signed the consent form.  My eyes were already raining not knowing how best to express my feelings towards him.  The next morning when we visited him, he smiled and slowly started slipping into sleep, I knew it was not the regular sleep and rushed out to get his father who was talking outside with someone.  When the father came in, he held his hand out, as if seeking a promise, and when the father laid his hand in it, he smiled and his hand dropped.

He was no-one to me, but at that moment I felt a strong sense of attachment towards him.   His silence influenced me as greatly as his conversation and I carried his inspiration in my heart and to live after death.