Dusty Gray...

It is that time between the day and the night. A little after the sun sets, and just after the orange glow dissappears into the dark of the approaching night. Its the time when the last of the grazing cows hear the calls of their cowherd, and start their way back home. It is the time when the nurse from the morning shift, gets up, and washes her face. The water flows from a steel faucet, the blue capped one. Blue for cold and red for hot. She wipes her face, and then rubs her hand on her apron. The starch has cracked, and what was crisp white in the morning has now crushed and taken a dusty gray color. Just the color of the sky outside.

The road outside the hospital is under repair. All the paths get worn out after some time, the novelty gets faded along with the metalled tar. And all that remains is dust, along with some cracked pieces of broke concrete and the reddish brown stones. The orange low quality bricks add the orange color in some places.

She has taken her apron down in the laundry, where it will be washed and starched. Tomorrow morning she'll have to wear it again. She picks her little black faux leather bag. She bought it from the footpath in the sunday market. They say you get good bargains in there. This bag had a marked price of 200 rupees, she had managed to get it for 100 rupees. It used to have a golden buckle. Back then she was very proud of her bag. Now it had gone a little older. Instead of the golden buckle, there were now two holes, frayed on their periphery. Acting as a constant reminders of the golden times.

She comes out of the gate. And treads carefully amidst the broken road. It had rained last night, and water had collected in the cracks of the road. The ensuing dark brown puddles, after a day of scorching sunshine, had turned into slush pools of chocolatey mud. She cannot get her suit stained, she wont have time to wash it. And she owns only two pairs of dresses, she had been saving money to buy another one. But then her son had fallen ill. Meningococcaemia, the doctors had said. This disease has spread rather quickly in the city. The treatment was not very expensive, but it was enough. Enough to postpone her dress for one more month.

All day she had attended, to the 9 year old boy who was suffering from the same disease. His parents didnt have enough time from their work, and his fever was severe. He was admitted that morning, he was discharged just minutes before her shift got over. All day she was thinking of her son, while tending him. It concerned her that there was no one to look after her 9 year old. Yet there wasnt much she could have done, for their sustenance she'd have to work. And the school fee was also due.

Tomorrow will be the sixth day since he fell ill, if it continues for 8 days she'll have to take him to the hospital. Where will the money come for that? Maybe she'll have to start washing clothes in the evening. Where can she start that? Who will keep her? When will her son be playing again? She looked up the bus stop had come. The sight of the rusted olive green with patches of reddish brown metal stand, told her to stop. The little commotion among the standing people told her about the approaching bus. She saw the number, it was the one. She stepped into the bus, amidst the stabbing elbows and brushing thighs. While holding out a silver gray 5 rupee coin to the conductor. The thoughts inside her mind went round and round, about her son.

In the hospital, her apron whirled inside the laundromat. The clear waters turned a dusty gray, as it went round and round...