Recently, I have been officially accepted by the government to treat children. And I have officially accepted myself as a variant of an emotional fool for a while longer than that.

I have been working in a Pediatric ICU for a while now. My heart rate was always high during my initial days of working in the ICU. The increase in the heart rate was mostly because of the fear that haunted me each second where a skill or a knowledge deficit in me would do some harm to an already ill baby.

In one of my busy duties, I got a call saying that there would be an admission soon. The baby who was coming in was obviously sick. The baby was brought on a trolley accompanied by his weeping parents. This baby was only five months old and had already had a stormy clinical course this far. He was diagnosed with a congenital condition at birth for which he had been operated and been hospitalized following that visit for a few months.

Not long after he was discharged, he was again presented with this illness. The parents who had run out of all their resources had nothing but their souls held in their arms and were praying all the time.

The hospital agreed to treat the baby free of cost. Have I mentioned that this baby was their only living child and was born after many years of infertility? A few days into the best care possible, the baby did not show any signs of clinical improvement. His brain was dead. We had counseled the parents extensively. They pleaded us to give them some more time as they hoped that the baby would make some improvement.

The same day, as I was walking around the ICU doing my rounds, the mother came to me and told me that she noticed some movement in the baby.

The mother asked me a question before I could tell her that it was not possible. She asked me if she could keep talking to the baby. She felt that the baby would sense her voice and show some improvement. My heart sank.

My reaction to whatever she said was very unusual. I was furious, but not at her. I was angry with God and began to curse, asking him the reason for the baby’s suffering. The extreme of all this was giving false hopes to the mother that the baby would improve. Why was God doing all this? What sin did a tiny baby like this one do? Why should the baby suffer? My questions to God never came to an end.

The next day I was shifted to a different ICU in the same hospital. I kept my calm telling myself that at least I won't face the parents while handing over the dead baby. I forgot about this baby completely while I got busy with my work in the other ICU.

After a hectic day at work, I was returning home. I got on my bike and squeezed through the traffic that was yet to clear from my hospital premises before hitting the main road.

I crossed quite a few vehicles when I had to stop overtaking any more vehicles as there was an ambulance in front of me. The ambulance was going out of the hospital, so I assumed there was no sick patient in it. I tried to figure out who was in it. I felt a frisson of loss.

It was the same baby and family. The mother was holding the baby in her lap and crying tirelessly. The father who was by her side was trying to console her but he himself couldn't handle his emotions. Even amidst the roaring traffic, I could hear the parents crying their heart out.

I could not take it anymore. I slowed down and let the other vehicles overtake me. I did not cry nor did I feel sad. I was fuming with anger. Why was I to witness this event? Why would they have to leave the hospital at this same second? 

I reached home and as I entered my room, I threw my bag away. I kicked the bin and punched the wall. The bin broke, so did my knuckles. The pain was severe, not in the knuckles but the heart. I did not do anything much productive later that day and I slept early.

The next day I was still furious. As I reached work, everyone questioned me about the grumpy face. I said that it was a birth defect. I was in a bad mood the entire day. While going back home I met this child on my way with her parents. I knew this child; she was diagnosed with Leukemia a few years back when I was posted in the Oncology department. The parents told me that she had been cured recently and they had come today for a regular follow up.

My mood lightened up for the first time since the previous day. I bent down on my knees and hugged her. I told her that she should be thankful for having such loving parents who took such good care of her. She smiled back at me.

I continued talking to the parents when the girl stopped me and said that she was actually thankful for God's help in bringing her out of this illness. I asked her, “Why would you thank God after all that has happened to you? Isn’t he the one who caused all the trouble for you in the first place?”

She replied with a question, "Do you like superstar Rajnikanth?" I said, "Obviously, who doesn’t love him?"

She quoted him, "Rajni uncle once said in an interview; where there is creation, there is a creator." I agreed with her. I asked further, "So?"

She added, "No doubts there, right? In the same way, where there is a creator, there is a destroyer too. There are always two sides to a coin. There is God and there has always been evil. Any distress to anyone is not actually caused by the creator. Why would a creator destroy his own creation? It’s the evil that is responsible."

I was stumped and felt that it was extremely mellifluous of her to say that. Every wise thing I have ever learned thus far was always from a child. I couldn’t agree more. I kissed her, spoke with them for a while and bid them goodbye. All the way back home, her words kept ringing in my ears. She was so right! My whole perspective changed.

I think what happened to the former family was unfair by all means. On a brighter note, I think God had helped the baby from the suffering that the evil had brought unto him. The baby might be in a better place now. As for the family, I am sure good things will happen to them soon.

Now that I know the cause of the happening, I would like to compliment the evil guy. "Hey evil guy, how have you been? You are a coward! You thrive on our fears and sorrows. I'd have loved to say some good things to you, but my heart won't let me (I am an emotional fool you see). Did I forget to say something? Oh, got it! F*** you for troubling little children!"

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