It was the year end night. Some friends had come over to celebrate. I had also called my brother-in-law who is an Investigating officer and an entertaining storyteller but seemed not quite himself that night. He stood alone, in dark, looking down dreamily with a tilted glass, now empty. I walked over and asked playfully if he was regretting over missing a shot at a culprit. Thankfully, he had his wit intact. He beckoned me to come out of the room. “What’s the matter Rana? I asked.” We walked towards the balcony. Bhaiya, in the noontime today, a doctor came over to the office and he narrated a story, and ever since I have heard his tale, I do not know what to make of it.

Really? What is it? What happened.

Rana spoke with passion as he does and just like the doctor he spoke in first person;

I started my first job at a hospital in Alibaug. Each case provided me with new knowledge more than my books. Every patient even now teaches me something.

One afternoon an injured woman came who was pregnant after 11 years of marriage. A bull roaming around the streets of Alibaug had knocked her stomach with its horn.

It was a scary sight with part of the woman’s stomach injured and a baby’s hand peeping out of the crack of the uterine wall. My mind was in turmoil. The mother’s life could be saved because the stomach wound was not serious. But to sew up the wall of the uterus was unthinkable as it was impossible to put the child’s hand back inside.

The family’s mandate was clear. Save the mother’s life. But how would I ignore the call of that little hand which appeared to be asking for help.

The operation theatre had a skeleton staff. Apart from me there were two nurses, a compounder and a helper whose job was to sterilize tools. He was middle-aged and an alcoholic who remained high at most times but was extremely sincere and efficient in his work for which the entire staff tolerated him. In the Operation Theatre, as everybody stood dumbstruck seeing the hand of the baby coming out of the womb. I observed everyone gazing at it with disbelief and particularly him who stood calmly behind keenly observing the proceedings. Yet even after healing the stomach wound, how do I get that little hand inside was beyond my knowledge. It required the touch of the god himself.

The creator had made the Uterine wall so strong that it cannot be opened easily, and even if it was opened, then the possibility of the birth and survival of the child from seven month pregnancy was remote, while it seemed difficult for the mother to come to consciousness. No option came to my mind but to perform surgery, which could even be of no use!

As I strolled in the Operation Theatre, looking helpless; the helper at that point who was silently watching, all of a sudden came up to me and whispered in my ear, “saheb, there is a way that the hand will automatically move in. I stared at him. Time was precious. I didn’t know why but my inner conscience made me ask him what he had in mind? He said heat the injection needle and touch the hand, it will immediately go back. His words actually left me open-mouthed. I could not say no! Having no other option, I agreed to his suggestion. I prayed to God in my heart and asked for a hundred apologies from that little one and gathered courage and warmed the needle. My heart beating loudly as I walked over slowly and pricked the hand lightly. The miracle happened and the hand immediately withdrew back in with a jerk. It was nothing but divine intervention. I sighed! Further work was easy. I immediately put the strap on by dressing the uterine wall.

For days on I prayed that the child inside should be safe and God above did not disappoint me either. Two months later, the woman safely delivered the baby in the same hospital and the little girl was smiling right in my hands. And since that moment I considered that helper as my guru. His name was Sanjay.

To my mind, I believe that when there is no cure by the books, God shows the path as a guru in any form as Sanjay showed me. His tip will not be found in any medical book.

Like my in-law, by the end of the story, I had nothing to express rather I was trying to make sense of this miraculous tale. I was indeed taken aback of what I had just heard. And to me it was nothing but, The Will of God.

Who was the doctor? I whispered feebly.

The Doctor was Subhash Munje.

Certainly, the story made me believe in the power of prayer. Divine is Nature.

A Happy New Year to Everyone

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Thank you

If today is the first time you have arrived on The Road To Nara, you are heartily welcome ~ Namaste

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ROAD TO NARA is an Ethnographic Blog of History, Stories of Culture, Passion, Art, People, Rivers, Folk, Mysticism, Meditation, Mountains, Trees and Tantra Yoga Science of Ancient India and the Indigenous World to your mailbox.

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As a co-traveller, will take you through the Ten Lessons I learnt from several years on the road, before you coarse on your own Road to Nara.

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Image Credit: Taken in Varanasi during my first visit to the Ancient City in 2011.