I am sure, once hearing the name; many might relate their lives and losses to this disastrous premise. GATEWAY TO HELL. This is one best thought, which will strike you, like a thunderbolt, and see you praying, if ever you tend to see your loved ones admitted here, till the time (if your are lucky enough), see them being discharged, hale and hearty and safe in your hands. I very closely relate to this, so-called-morgue in the name of a hospital, since I had made the biggest mistake of my life, of getting my own loved one over here, MY OWN LOVING FATHER. The year 2006, as none of the mumbaikars can ever forget, left me a victim to 2 major calamities and a vital loss in my life. Though, I would still call myself blessed, because I could at least get away unharmed from the wrath of mother nature, because I feel, she might have sensed that, her, giving me another shock in the form of another loss due to the 26th July floods, would be cruel on her part and so she decided to let me get away with it, with lesser losses than others.

That unfortunate incident still haunts me, because on the auspicious night of Holi festival, in the month of March 2006, my father had suffered a first breathlessness attack. It was midnight and I along with my younger brother because of being caught up in our office due to excess work pressure, reached home late and on opening the door, witnessed our father whining and trying hard to breathe through his mouth. That is when disaster first struck our lives, and made us encounter this forbidden place, by the name of PANCHOLI HOSPITAL for the first and definitely the last time in our lives. I first called the hospital (since, it was near to our older residence), to immediately send over, an ambulance, for moving my father over to the hospital. They refused and apologized to me, saying, they could be of no help to me, this time, since, they had just one ambulance (ridiculous and that too not theirs) and it was routed to fetch another emergency case, at that moment and I would have to wait, if I still believed I needed their assistance. In that panicked up state, I totally had lost my wits and understanding, to use my brains, and look out for another ambulance, which could have been easily available, if contacted. (Thanks to the hospital, to have not helped me at that moment, with another ambulance contact). Not understanding what to do then, I asked my brother to move my father in our vehicle and somehow managing to do so, finally reached the hospital gate. The hospital has an entrance which is about 3 to 3-1/2 feet in width, good enough to make you break your arms even if you try to ease them a little, so just imagine, you need to carry the patient through that narrow gangway. More horrifying experience was when, we were informed that there were no stretchers and we would have to carry our father up to the 1st floor. For the first time in my life, I realized how it would for any body, craving to see his father comforted and treated first and yet has to see him go through such a lot of agony and pain, at the time you need to see him taking complete rest and medication. Finally we saw ourselves through to the so-called ICCU on the first floor, to our surprise and shock, knowing that the place was named ICCU just for name sake. It was just a modular cabin separated by modular partitions and with just a curtain to offer privacy and sound proofing, and to add to the misery, had no hygiene control cos I could see mosquitoes flying around. Out of curiosity, when I decided to look around, I noticed, that the patients were just fooled in the name of seeing them admitted in the ICCU, or any other special ward, because everything around was just the same. General, Special, ICCU were just for names. ISKI TOPI USKE SAR. Next misery – No Doctor(s). On enquiring, I was informed, I would need to call the doctor on my own (since they have only consulting surgeon(s) and all non-skilled, dressed-up-like doctors, nurses, at your service). That is when; I got to hear the voice of the devil’s, very own, Dr.Amol Manerkar, for the first time. Man, I hope, I could have been seeing a bad dream which could have ended with a bite on my finger. He then told me that he would be on his way and reach in 10 mins, and till then my father, would be attended to, by the junior doctors.

(Continued in next section, since MOUTHSHUT restricts, the use of more than stipulated no. of characters in one Post.)