“Hey Kim, we need you right away,”, said a man on the phone.
“I’ll be right there”, replied Kim.
Kim excused herself from the discussion and left immediately. All the other girls were clueless about where she had to rush in such a short notice.
They tried to enquire, but Kim did not feel like answering.
The group of five was reduced to four, the enjoyment mellowed down too.
Kim got on Eric’s bike and they rode to a hospital. Eric was Kim’s best bud. They were childhood friends.
“Is she Alright?”, asked Kim.
“I have no idea”, replied Eric, “She had another attack, and seems this time it was serious.”
Kim wept, and hugged Eric.
After an hour long ride, they reached a hospital which was in the outskirts of the city.
The building was magnificent with manicured lawns and huge trees.
“Madam, Come fast, Baby not get well. She ask for you and Eric,” said the Uncle John. He was a Goan, a fisherman. It seemed as if he wore some fish flavoured perfume all the time.
Kim rushed in to see Baby – Farah.
“Baby, you have to get well soon. It’s your birthday next week”, cried Kim.
“She’ll be Alright,” consoled Eric.
“Kim, will she be able to play with us?”, enquired a gang of kids standing outside Farah’s ward.
“Yes kids,” managed Kim.
The crescent moon brightened the lawns of the Orphanage. Kim and Eric sat under the midnight blue and prayed for the children.
Deep inside, Kim hoped that Farah gets to see the sunrise.
to be contd