Early in the morning, groggy from tossing in the bus trying to get some shut eye as I traveled between the cities. I thought I was imaging it, a blood soaked shirt, the colour still red, still fresh. A wound on the old man's forehead, like he had struck a stone in his fall. An uncertainty in his eyes, he was unaware of where he was. In a public bus. He asked for the ticket and the conductor made the bold move of asking how he was wounded. He said some biker hit him and fled the scene. Clearly this man was drunk, was he? Or was it concussion from a head wound. I don't know.
The bus was fully occupied and all of us were curious at this man's state. Just curiosity. I sat half way across the bus from him. I suddenly realized I had a bottle of water with me. Maybe I can offer him some and help him clean the blood off his face. I stopped this thought mid-way. Strange argument of consequences started in my mind, I am ashamed of what followed in arguments and led to my freezing in inaction.
I wondered if I could take him to the hospital, clearly he needed a bandage. I could maybe try a simple bandage. I would have to get off the bus with him, ask him if he wanted any help and offer him water and go to a medicine store and try to patch him up a bit. Why could I not ask him in the bus? Many of us were sitting and looking at him, no one offered help. Was it that we were hoping for someone else to offer help to him? Or was it that, somehow in our twisted logic we had declared that because this man is drunk he had written his own fate? No one asked him anything. Are we not humans? Am I not human? If I asked, I would become an over involved girl. I would have to see the help through. I would need to take him to the hospital and file an FIR before he gets any treatment. What a mess that would be. I thought of the cost of treatment, clearly he did not have enough money and I doubt he had any insurance. I thought if I had any insurance, I do, but it only covers me. Sad that health care is this twisted. If he was any other wounded animal like the pups in the street, Blue cross would help, sadly he was a human.
I remembered all my trivial appointments of the day and the pointless financial commitments that stem from wants and not needs. I could help this man if I wanted to. He got off the bus, and I was still rooted to me seat in conflict with myself. He started shouting on the road and I watched him as he cried about his injustice, the typical drunken speech. Drunken he maybe, but the wound on his head was real and the blood was real. I could only pray hoping he has someone at home to care for him. That was my way out, a small prayer from a frozen position.
If you have accidentally stumbled across this blog, or are following me, please let me know what you would have done. Also, I would like to know the right course of action so that next time I am more human than this.
