I WILL NOT STOP BEING GRATEFUL TO KING KHAN AS LONG AS I LIVE

-Ali Peter John

It was just three days after the powerful Prime Minister, Mr Modi had declared demonetization of notes and had plunged a majority of Indians into a valley of darkness and doom, with lakhs of people standing outside banks to save their money even at the cost of losing their jobs and even losing their lives. I was in a fix since I had a few notes that came under the domain of the draconian act of demonization and that was the only money I had. I couldn't stand to the long and surpentine queues and got two of my young friends who were kind enough to stand by turns and could get my money only after two days.....

But, I stuck to my morning routine. I woke up early and started walking towards Yari Road which was once known as a village and was now a famous lane on which stars, filmmakers, retired corrupt police officers and big money buisnessman lived in some of the most luxurious apartments. I passed my “Lonavala Lane"(the name I had given to the small lane close to my house which led to the main Yari Road, a lane which still had natures glory standing as if in a mood to challenge all the signs of development. I reached the first cross road with one of my aunts called Gracy who went to church every morning along the same lane and road had warned me was a very dangerous crossing point. She actually held my hand and showed me how to look to the left and the right before crossing. I followed her orders and crossed the point and said my usual morning prayer and stood near a bus stop to watch the cruel game Modiji was playing with the masses who he had promised with ache din..

I decided to sit on the bar of the bus stop opposite the branch of the Bank of India where I had a small account which was a continuation of the account I had at the Nariman Point branch of the bank till I took voluntary retirement from the Indian Express. I was still listening to the grumblings of the men, women and even children against the demonization when I suddenly found myself locked out on the road. A water tanker whose driver must have also been thinking and worrying about demonization or must have had a bad dream or a fight with his wife rammed into me and I was in another world.

There were some good people in the queue who gave up their number in the queue and surrounded me and I being the usual ‘ziddi' tried to stand on my feet, but what I saw could make even the butcher and the devils on earth try to flee from the ghastly scene as soon as they could. The kind driver had spared my life, he also spared my limbs, but the good soul couldn't help but smash and crush my left foot completely. I had never seen so much blood flowing out of any part of my body. I was also in a state of confusion because some good people asked me where I lived and who I had at home. I could only shout out that I was alone and my wife and daughter had gone away to Virar to one of their friend's place. There was still a decision to be taken about me, till a man from the crowd asked me if there was any number I could remember and he could contact and let that number know what had happened to me.

There was soon some kind of a competition about who would rush me to a nearby hospital. The first hospital looked very scary and like a hospital that had not seen patients in a long time and before anyone could say anything, the man who was sweeping the floor, looked at my state and said, “nahi nahi, hum aise patient nahi lete".

I was in no condition to take any decisions and the good (very rare) auto driver drove my body to the Cooper Municipal Hospital which I always asked God to keep me away from. As they pulled my body on a stretcher, I could see blood still flowing out of me. Before I could know anything more, I was first put into a heavy bandage and then just pushed into a dark room and after some time I saw a man in white, covering me with a white sheet from head to toe which was a clear sign of my being given up for dead. I wanted to scream and cry but the atmosphere didn't allow me to. I however had some hope.

My daughter whose number I had screamed out contacted my brother-in-law, Sudhir who was known for picking up arguments and fights at any place, any time. Ajay Acharya, my son who is more than my son he rushed to the Cooper Hospital. He couldn't find me anywhere till he reached the morgue and saw one of my chappals lying out.The owners of the tanker had followed my auto and told Sudhir that they were willing to pay for my treatment if all the treatment was done at Cooper Hospital. My rude brother-in-law declined their offer, asked for a transfer of my body to another hospital. I was put into one of the worst ambulances and my brother-in-law asked me, “Nanavati ya Holy Spirit?"His friend said there was too much of blood flowing and there was a chance of the wounds going septic and I was now at the entrance to the surgical ward of Nanavati Hospital.

I was writhing in pain, but the junior RMOs screamed at me saying, “hum aapka paaon bachchane ko dekh rahe hai, tum co-operate karoge toh achcha hi hoga". What choice did I have? They first stripped all the bandaging done at Cooper and I could still hear them saying, “yeh kis hajaam ne bandage kiya hai?"I reached ward number nine, bed number twenty and saw my leg like the leg of some astronaut or an alien with all kinds of spikes looking out of my damaged foot.A junior doctor came to me and said, “Dr Karkhanis will be doing an urgent operation tonight at nine pm. Be ready for it". The only other operation I had was when I fell on my face and injured my forehead and had six stitches done by a doctor called Ram Prabhoo without any anaesthesia. I was prepared for the worst.

That unique, some colleagues who had heard about my accident came to see me and one of them said this is good to make news. I was operated that night and had survived. The next morning I was told that the news had appeared in several papers, including important papers in the gulf. I felt good even in the midst of all the misery!

All this time, I had one big worry wracking my mind and that was the money. I knew that in Holy Spirit Hospital, I had to worry about money only when the doctors had decided to discharge me, but I had never been treated in a big hospital like Nanavati where I had only seen my rich friends, Prem Sagar, Anand Bakshi and Amjad Khan being treated. I also had a doctor friend who was a brother-in-law of music director Laxmikant who I used to see getting drunk at every big film party and who made me wonder how he would treat to his patients the next day. It is a little out of place here, but I must say that the doctor was soon involved in a kidney selling racket and had started drinking more heavily and had finally died an early death...

I was in for the biggest surprise of my life the next morning. I came to know the truth only after it had happened. The Badshah, Shah Rukh Khan had come to know about my condition. He sent his manager, the ever so efficient and caring Karuna Badwal, who Incidentally was the daughter of one of my finest friends, Mr Madan Arora who was once the secretary of the giant of an actor in the fifties and sixties, Sheikh Mukhtar and then was the secretary and manager of Danny Dengzongpa till Madanji as he was called suddenly died of cancer.

It was around four pm when someone from the accounts department came to me and said they had recieved a letter from Shah Rukh Khan saying that all my bills as long as I was in hospital would be borne by the king of hearts, SRK. It was only when I used to be carried to the operation theatre that I realised that the orthopedic department was the recipient of health from the Shah Rukh Khan Trust.

That was the beginning of my being treated like a VIP patient and Dr Karkhanis and his juniors who used to treat me like any other patient in the general ward began to treat me with all the respect and I used to wonder how money could change the attitude and values of people.

I had twelve major operations, a major plastic surgery and the operations went on endlessly for four months and everytime the accounts department sent a reminder saying that the funds were being exhausted, my wife would worry her head till she started growing hyper and had grey in her hair and all I had to do was just make a call to Ms Badwal who lived up to her name, Karuna (sympathy) and the next morning all money matters were cleared. There were times when she said, “even if the money from the Trust doesn't come or doesn't come in time, don't worry, I will make arrangements to make the payment myself".

Four months later, I was carried out on a stretcher without facing problems of paying the bills, which can sometimes kill a patient even if he or she has been cured.

SRK has made a request to me and that is to see that I don't make his gesture public. But I have tried to keep my promise made to him, but I am still human and gratitude is my greatest armour. What can I do, dear Badshah Khan? I would like to believe in reincarnation so that I can thank you many more times in many more lives.

The Badshah was not the only one who showed that he had a big heart. The other man who showed that it didn't need to have a lot of money to be of help to a fellow human being was my friend who I knew when he didn't have hundred rupees in his pocket, Naseeruddin Shah. And how can I forget my very precious friend, now Dr Trinetra Bajpai who climbed up the two floors even though he is partially paralysed and when he had seen me in the condition I was, shouted out,“no, Mr Ali, I don't want to see you here, please for god's sake get into a VIP room", but I had told him that I was comfortable (?) where I was and then he climbed down and went to the accounts department and deposited a sum of money which he has never told me about?

The others with big hearts I found during my critical times were the man who has always been a friend, Anupam Kher, Abbas-Mastan and even a poet like Irshad Kaamil who came to my house and presented me with a black bag which I later found out contained any number of hundred rupee notes which I could use for my everyday expenses.

I still have acute pain in my foot sometimes, but I have to just pray to God and thank him for giving me such great friends and believe it or not, the pain vanishes or at least gets less.

Who says this industry is only full of selfish and ungrateful people? You have to be a part of it, with all its strong points and weak points to know the truth about it.