It was a time of pandemic. You could hear the siren of ambulances moving here and there on the road. Hence, the highways were empty, and the railways were not running. No crowds on the streets, and mostly the doors of the houses remained closed.
Humanity was passing through the worst of the time, as the virus was creating chaos.
I, Dr Mukesh and my wife Ganga were a newly married couple. Our residence was the Sai Villa Apartment, Chembur- the city of Bombay.
But, I was then a ‘soldier’ fighting against the pandemic. I remained in the hospital for a long time. Thus, I returned home after twenty-four hours.
‘The doctor was a warrior leading his team to save humanity.’
Unfortunately, my wife got infected. But, as the virus load was less, they treated her at home. They registered her in the nearest hospital. But she remained home. They gave all the treatment.
Fortunately, she recovered within a month. Hence, I was very much happy. The reason was that there was no one to help her at home.
I was serving in the BRC hospital in Bombay. I worked day and night. Thus, I was always engaged in my work.
But, a time came when the virus caught me in its grip. The level of infection was very high.
Hence, I got admitted to my hospital. And, during this period, I lost my mobile.
Even though I do not know- how much time I remained in the hospital. The Doctor said I was unconscious for about a week.
But I recovered after a long time.
During this period, I didn’t have any contact with my wife.
They discharged me from the hospital after complete recovery. Thus, I reached my home with a nurse to look after me.
To my surprise, the house was under lock. Nobody was there. My wife was not there.
I asked my neighbour.
‘Madam, where has Ganga gone? Do you know?.’ I asked.
‘No, Sir. Our doors mostly remained closed. But she was here a week ago. We have not seen her these days,’ answered the lady.
I purchased a new mobile phone and a new Sim-card. I tried to contact her at her father’s home.
Unfortunately, I could not connect with her.
The residence of my wife’s parents is in Uttar Pradesh. It is a small village, Bagori village- near the Ganga River.
It is a remote village with no internet and other facilities. Even the telephone services remain closed for days.
Ours was a love marriage. Ganga was studying in an arts college. She was staying in the girl’s hostel nearby the boy’s hostel at the medical college. I was then a student at the Institute of medical sciences at Banaras University.
However, we came in contact in a canteen. It resulted in love. Finally, we married after the completion of our studies.
After a few days
I received a phone call from the hospital where my wife had undergone medical treatment.
‘Hello, are you Dr Mukesh from Sai Villa Apartment? ‘Enquired the person.
‘Yes, I am Mukesh from house no 27, Sai Villa Apartment.’ Answers Mukesh.
‘Unfortunately, your wife Ganga died in the hospital because of coronavirus. As per the rituals, please collect the bone ash.’ He finished the conversation.
It shocked me to hear the news.
Was my wife admitted to the hospital? I was in the ICU for a month. Thus, I do not know.
Maybe she died in another hospital when I was there in the ICU in my hospital.
‘Are you sure Ganga died in the hospital?’ I enquired on the phone call.
‘Yes sir, her name is there in the record. We are sure about it,’ Answered the person.
I went to the hospital. And collected the ‘Bone ash pitcher’ and placed it at the place of worship at my home.
I was sad, weeping from my inner self, but acted as if nothing had happened.
I informed my relatives about the incident. Because they, too, were unaware of the incident.
Now, slowly and slowly, the cases of corona were diminishing. Life was again getting normal.
I decided to go to the holy river Ganga to disburse the ‘Bone ash’.
I reached there on the bank of the river and called a ‘Pujari’. He performed the prayers (Puja) as per Hindu rituals. After completion of the worship, he allowed me to immerse the bone ash pitcher into the Ganga River.
Then, I was returning from the Ganga Ghats. My heart was sad- weeping and crying.
An unbelievable incident occurred.
I heard the familiar voice of a lady (My dear wife Ganga, who was dead)
‘Mukesh, please come there. We are here,’ the river echoed.
It was around 10 pm. I was afraid to hear that voice. And, I thought it to be a miracle. It was because I had read several horror stories—the stories of ghosts and mysteries.
I ran from there very fast towards public dwellings.
Someone put a hand on my shoulder from my backside. My heart was beating fast. Yes, she was my wife Ganga.
I shouted ghost…ghost and ran away.
Many people gathered to see the event.
Thus, I stopped. Looked into the eyes of my wife. She was Ganga. I slowly touched her. My wife Ganga was alive.
My heart was now at rest. I cried and embraced her. It was not at all a miracle, but a reality.
She was with her mother and was returning to the village- Bagori. But I met her at the river Ganga.
I narrated the whole story. And we were so happy that we took part in the prayer, that is Ganga Arti on the next morning.
In fact, it was the mistake of the hospital staff.
And now we are enjoying our life as the flowing water of the holy river Ganga.