Haka-Baka: A Moment of Unspoken Truth


Usuf Mir

 

(The story is a real-life account of a shocking hospital moment that raises questions about ethics and humanity. The incident leaves a lasting impact on the narrator. It highlights how silence and unseen influences can overpower compassion.)

 

        I was sitting quietly in a condolence meeting of a close friend who had passed away at a young age. The room was filled with a strange stillness—heavy, suffocating. Faces were pale, eyes moist, and words had lost their strength. Death, especially when it comes too early, leaves behind not just grief but unanswered questions.

Among those present was an elderly man. His appearance reflected simplicity and experience—long white beard, modest dress, and a white cap resting gently on his head. He looked like someone who had seen life closely, both its beauty and its cruelty.

When he began to speak, the gathering fell into deeper silence.

“Yahan Andhera Hi Andhera Hai… Total darkness everywhere,” he said slowly. “Not a single ray of hope remains. Insaniyat khatam hoti ja rahi hai… humanity is disappearing.”

His words were not loud, but they carried a weight that silenced every whisper in the room.

After a brief pause, he began narrating an incident from his past—an experience that, as he described, had shaken him to his core.

“Some years ago, my sister was admitted to the city hospital. She was suffering from a pancreas-related illness. I stayed there with her for fifteen long days. Those days felt heavier than years. She was in Ward No. 18.”

He adjusted his sitting posture, as if reliving the moment. “One day, I was sitting beside her bed, lost in thought. Two young men entered the ward and sat near Bed No. 6, which was adjacent to my sister’s bed. The patient on that bed was asleep. I assumed they had come to visit him, like any other attendants.”

The ward had its usual rhythm—occasional footsteps, low conversations, distant sounds of medical equipment, and the constant tension between hope and fear.

“In the meantime, a trauma patient—severely injured and bleeding—was rushed into the side room of the ward. There was sudden chaos. A team of doctors hurried in. Their movements were quick, coordinated, and urgent. It was clear that the patient’s life was hanging by a thread.”

He paused, his eyes lowering. “I could see from where I was sitting… the doctors were doing everything they could to save that life. At that moment, I felt a sense of relief—that even in this world, there are people who fight against death with all their strength.”

Then his tone changed. “But suddenly… Mere Sar Par Aasmaan Toot Pada.”

He looked around, as if seeking someone to understand the depth of that moment.

“I noticed those same two young men—who had been sitting quietly near Bed No. 6—stand up and walk straight into the side room.”

At first, he thought nothing of it. “But what I saw next… left me shaken.”

“They went close to one of the doctors. One of them gently placed his hand on the doctor’s shoulder. In his hand, there was something—looked like a folded paper… perhaps more. The doctor paused… just for a second.”

The old man’s voice grew heavier.

“Then, one of the young men casually moved the doctor’s stethoscope aside… and touched the patient’s chest twice.”

He closed his eyes briefly, as if the scene was still alive before him. “And then… they simply walked away.”

No noise. No explanation. “Main haka-bakka reh gaya… I was completely stunned. I could not understand what had just happened… or what it meant.”

The room fell silent again. After a long pause, he spoke softly:

“Us din Mujhe Samajh aaya— Andhera sirf roshni ki kami se nahi hota.

Andhera tab hota hai jab Insaan zinda hote hue bhi insaniyat kho deta hai…

Jab zameer khamosh ho jata hai…

Jab jaan ki keemat bhi kisi aur cheez se kam ho jaye.”

Author can be mailed at yousufmir555@gmail.com

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