THE FINAL PAYMENT

 

Indra stretched lazily on his bed, watching “Tarak Mehta ka Oolta Chasma” on his phone; he had been doing that for a whole day now. His daughter had promised him a set of his favourite books; they should have reached him by now, but the hospital staff had become very strict with the rapid rise in the number of cases. He had been reading stories of how rapidly the virus spread through one’s body; however, he felt just fine except for slight breathing difficulties. He wondered what all the fuss was about.

With that thought, the oxygen monitor started to beep; his O2 monitor showed 94. He remembered nurses talking to each other about how O2 should be maintained above 95. He thought to himself, “I should relax a bit. Good thoughts, Indra. Think good thoughts!” And with that, his mind wandered to the construction of his new farmhouse, a project he'd been planning for years.

With his retirement just around the corner, he had envisioned spending his golden years there with his wife, surrounded by memories of their life together. They had built their home from scratch as newlyweds, weathered hardships, and now, finally, they were about to reap the rewards. The farmhouse was going to be their haven, a place to cherish their journey and live life to the fullest.

He sent a quick message to his wife about the update. Suddenly, he remembered helping Litu, the caretaker of the farmhouse, with Rs. 30,000 to fix his daughter's marriage. He wondered if the construction had halted due to Litu's non-availability; had he arranged for a substitute? He hadn't had a chance to record the loan in his personal budget book yet. He quickly sent an email to the HR division regarding the medical claim for hospital bills. “Gudiya has been looking after my hospital bills; I should pay her back as soon as I am discharged. I hate keeping debts! That too from my own daughter! He ram! I wondered if the workers were paid in advance; one couldn't predict who might be in need during this pandemic. Oh, the debit cards in my wallet”. His thoughts were interrupted by the beep of the O2 machine; it had dropped to 91 now! “Good thoughts, Indar. Good thoughts.”

Two days later….

Despite being a beloved member of his community, only close family members were present at his house. No one could imagine Indra not being a part of the world with them. Unable to complete his last ritual as per their tradition, the members honoured him by sharing stories about him.

His son, Vanket, listened to the stories with all his might, trying to imprint them on his brain for the coming years. He was finding it hard to concentrate, arranging money for rituals and stuff. His dad’s wallet had been cremated along with him, as the hospital staff refused to provide his belongings as per COVID policy. They were discussing the plan, going through Indra’s personal budget book. Fortunately, there were no debts, only money to be collected.

As people began to leave, Sinha uncle came to Vanket. “I still can’t believe he is no more with us. We have been “chaddi buddies”. Do let me know if you guys require any help with any of the arrangements. I almost forgot; I have prepared the list of money your father owed me six years back. There’s no hurry to pay, though. Take care.”

The paper totalled an amount of Rs. 10,000, a manageable amount for Indra’s family. His mother started going through the budget book again, “Indra Hated Debts” was all she could think. As Venket tried to calm his mother, the doorbell rang. As soon as his mom answered, he heard a loud wailing. Litu’s wife was hugging his mother, crying her heart out. Litu, through his sobs, handed a packet to Vanket. “Saheb was down with fever; he told me to wait some days, if possible, but I kept calling him, fearing my daughter’s wedding might be delayed. Saheb came over; I asked for 20; he gave 30. He ensured the engagement ceremony was fixed. Please, beta, keep this, like Saheb, I too have decided to live life debt-free!

This post is a part of Blogchatter Half Marathon.