7.03 am

I watch as a huge tube gobbles Ma up. Rohit and his Dad are sitting behind many monitors that are capturing and recording images.

The only time the two had a mild disagreement was on whether to sedate Ma or not. The argument was settled in Rohit's favour. Ma was not sedated before her scan.

I've come to discover that there are certain advantages to owning a hospital. Like you can get access to an MRI machine at a moment's notice.

After nearly forty minutes of constant tossing, Rohit had decided to wake his Dad up yet again.

"There is no shame in taking advice, Sona. Dad is much more experienced as a physician. I'm sure he'll be able to point me in the right direction."

He was right. It was Papa who suggested the chest MRI.

"Since the disease affects the lungs, the only way to find out how much damage has been caused is by physically seeing it," he'd told Rohit.

That's all it took. By 6.30 am, his mother had been admitted at the Sukhmani Sippy hospital in a private ward. By 7.00, she was being wheeled in for her MRI scan.

*****

8.30 am

I place two cups of coffee on Rohit's desk. I then make my way back to the staff room to brew a third cup for myself.

Ma is back in her ward, sleeping. I'm not allowed to visit her. But every now and then Rohit and Papa take turns to go and check on her. She seems to be fine, with no symptoms at all. She even insisted that her reports had gotten mixed up and asked Rohit to send in another swab, which he's done. It will be another 24 hours before we know what the result of the second swab is. Until then, Ma is under observation.

As my coffee brews, I absently stare at the front cover of a magazine that is lying right next to it. My mind is blank. I don't even register the name of the magazine, although I believe I did notice that the title was red. The machine beeps. I go to pick up my coffee, but instead clumsily spill it all over myself and the floor. I curse softly, pick up a roll of tissues lying nearby and sit on my haunches to clean the mess I've just created.

A second later, Rohit walks in. His shoes give him away. I raise my head to look at him. His eyebrows are raised in question.

He crouches next to me and threads his hands through my hair. "Everything okay?"

The gesture undoes me. I bring my hand to my face and begin weeping into his palm. He gently lifts me, brings me closer, and hugs me.

"Shhhhh...Sona."

He threads his hands through my hair gently massaging my scalp to soothe me. I try to take deep breaths to calm down but the tears seem to have a will of their own.

He holds my shoulders and brings to the two odd steel chairs that are part sparse furniture occupying this room.

"What's wrong?"

I want to say something but for some reason, I am unable to speak.

"Sona, tell me. You know you can talk to me." Rohit looks concerned. I try to focus on the fact that he is wearing my favourite navy blue scrubs but my mind seems to have completely shut down. I perch myself on the edge of my chair, hug him and cry.

This time he lets me, patiently caressing me until I feel calm enough.

I move away, drying my tears with the pad of my thumb. I make my way back to the coffee machine and place another cup under it to brew. Then I turn my attention back to the cover of the magazine that is lying right next to it.

The machine beeps and I pick up my coffee, this time careful enough to not spill it, again. I take a sip and then turn towards Rohit.

He's waiting, smiling. I draw strength from his smile.

"Don't talk to me," I'd almost but screamed at Mom.

"Sona, I said I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what Mom? I'm the drama queen, right? I should be the one apologizing. Why are you saying sorry."

"Sona, I didn't realize I'd forgotten to take my medications."

"And of course, you're so poor that you cannot buy medicines anywhere else."

"Arre, I said I'm sorry. I didn't think missing one dose would be such a big deal."

"No, it wasn't a big deal, was it? You just fainted in a restaurant."

"Yes, but I wasn't alone right. Deepa Aunty was there with me, right? She called the doctors immediately."

"Of course, next time do this when no one is around. That'll make it more exciting."

Mom had gone out to lunch with her friend Deepa. She'd missed a dose of her medication, as a result of which the hormonal levels in her body fluctuated and she fainted. Deepa Aunty had acted prudently, calling Mom's doctor from her phone and following his instructions to revive her. It was no big deal. The doctor had come for a home visit and had assured me that Mom was fine. Everything was okay.

Except I was shaken to the core. Scared. Mom was all I had. But I had never been good with expressing my fear in a positive manner. And so I'd lashed out at her. And she, like a loving mother had continued to apologize for an entire day, until my anger cooled down.

"Rohit," I begin haltingly. I've never been good at admitting my weaknesses. "I'm scared."

He smiles some more and in two long strides is standing right next to me. "I know."

"Please don't let anything happen to Ma. I don't want to lose her too."

He looks into my eyes. That's when I notice his eyes - weary and tired. I put my coffee down, take his hands into mine and kiss his knuckles.

"If there's anyone I have faith in, who can do this, it's you. Please," I whisper. "Please do this for me."

I don't know who I'm begging, Rohit or the universe. I just hope the right force grants my wish.