"Mr. Karthik, a transplant is the only option left."
The chief doctor, flanked by a team of physicians, was grimly explaining the severity of the situation.
Inside the Intensive Care Unit, a young child lay on the bed. Countless medical tubes and wires were taped to her tiny hands and chest, tethering her to a beeping monitor. Every single breath she took was mechanical, forced into her lungs by a ventilator.
Karthik and his wife, Simran, stood nearby, paralyzed by helplessness and anxiety. Simran’s face was swollen from hours of ceaseless crying. Karthik’s mother sat on a chair close by, her eyes tightly shut, lost in deep prayer for what felt like an eternity. There was no other sound in that hospital corridor. It was a suffocatingly quiet night—the worst night of their lives.
Just then, a man wearing a crisp white shirt and a traditional veshti with a colored border, looking every bit like a politician, walked up to them. He turned directly to the medical team.
"Doctor, we already have a donor available, don't we? Why don't you just go ahead with the surgery?"
"We cannot do that, sir," the doctor replied firmly. "There is a seven-year-old girl named Sanghavi ahead of her on the priority list. She gets the organ first. That is the medical protocol."
The politician and Karthik exchanged a knowing look. Placing a reassuring hand on Karthik’s shoulder, the politician stepped away and pulled out his phone.
Within minutes, frantic phone calls were flying across networks. The calls pierced through every tier of bureaucracy, reaching the absolute corridors of power. Messages were relayed directly to several high-ranking government ministers. Influence was aggressively wielded.
A few hours later... the heart transplant surgery for Aarudra was successfully completed.
Days passed.
Having finished their dinner, the four of them got into the car. Aarudra climbed into the front passenger seat next to Karthik. Simran and Karthik’s mother took their places in the backseat.
"Come to the back, Aarudra," Simran called out gently. "You can sleep next to Amma."
"No... I won't sleep. I want to look outside as we go," Aarudra replied stubbornly.
"What are you going to see in this pitch darkness?" her grandmother asked affectionately.
The child didn't answer. Instead, she stared intently through the window, mesmerized by the glittering lights of the marketplace and the glowing lamps burning atop the distant hill shrine.
The car slowly began its long journey, moving away from Palani, heading back toward Chennai.
“Who’s there up there?” she asked, gazing at the mountain peak.
She had asked the same question three times since morning. Grandma answered patiently each time, without the slightest irritation.
“Murugan is there.”
“Who’s that?”
“That’s God… He protects all of us. When you were in the hospital, he told the doctor uncle to save you… Pray nicely to him.”
Aarudhra joined both her hands together in prayer and then asked,
“The doll at our house holding a knife in its hand… that’s Murugan, right?”
“You shouldn’t call him a doll… and that’s not a knife, it’s called a vel.”
“Mmm.”
The child waved her hand, showing Murugan a little tata-bye. The car slowly picked up speed. Little by little, the Palani hills and Murugan disappeared from sight.
Even though they had a driver at home, Karthik loved driving himself. Taking Aarudhra to school and bringing her back in the evening, or driving Mother and his wife around whenever they went out — those were Ramu’s usual duties.
As they neared Perambalur, the car pulled into a petrol bunk to refuel. A container lorry ahead of them was filling up, so it took a little while before they could leave. There was only one employee on duty. Inside the room, another man sat asleep at a table with his head resting on it.
“Fill the tank,” Karthik said as he stepped out, stretching his arms and legs a little. The two in the back seat were fast asleep. Aarudhra was half-awake, drifting in and out of sleep now and then. Just as Karthik paid the cash and was about to leave, another car pulled in behind them.
After driving a few more kilometers, Karthik felt something was off about the way the car was running. As the vehicle began to shudder slightly and lose speed, he pulled over to the side of the road. No matter how much he tried after that, the car simply wouldn’t start again.
Everyone inside the car was awake by then.
“What happened?”
“I don’t know,” Karthik replied, irritation creeping into his voice.
Though he was deeply interested in self-driving, he didn’t know even the slightest thing about car mechanics. Stepping out of the car, he muttered, “I wonder if he filled petrol instead of diesel.” He couldn’t even remember whether they had specifically asked for diesel or not. As far as the eye could see, there was nothing but darkness.
A car was approaching. Before he could even raise his hand to signal it, the vehicle sped past them. With his entire family inside the stranded car and no idea what to do next, Karthik felt an overwhelming pressure building inside him.
Then he noticed another car approaching, this one coming at great speed. Aarudhra opened the door and stepped outside.
“Aarudhra, don’t go out!” Simran snapped.
The car was racing toward them. Karthik grabbed Aarudhra tightly. The approaching vehicle slammed on its brakes. With a harsh screech, it skidded slightly across the road before finally slowing down. In that empty darkness where there was no one around, the loud sound felt terrifying. Slowly, the car rolled toward them and stopped nearby.
“Thank God…” Karthik let out a deep breath of relief. It was a rental car.
“What happened, sir?” the driver asked, glancing at the car and at the half-asleep women inside. Aarudhra stood clinging to Karthik’s waist.
“I don’t know what happened… it broke down. We need to get to Chennai… can you take us?”
The driver looked at the family for a few moments before saying, “Come, sir.”
“Thank you.”
Karthik sat in the front passenger seat beside the driver. Aarudhra settled into the back seat between her mother and grandmother.
“What about our car?” Simran asked.
“I’ll call Ramu and ask him to come. He’ll fix it and bring it back,” Karthik said, dialing Ramu as he spoke.
Ramu didn’t answer the first call. The second time, he picked up, still groggy from sleep.
“Ramu, the car has broken down. I’ve sent you the location on WhatsApp. First thing tomorrow morning, come here, get the car fixed, and bring it back. We’ve hired a taxi and are on our way now. We’ll reach by morning.”
After him, the driver picked up his own phone.
“Have you all eaten? Is the boy asleep? Some customers came on an emergency trip… I’m going to Chennai now… I’ll be back by tomorrow evening… mm… mm… okay, I’ll hang up.”
“If there’s any coffee shop on the way, stop there,” Karthik said.
“Coffee at this hour?” his mother asked.
“We can relax a bit and then continue. I’m tired.”
“You’re always drinking coffee. Today alone makes it four.”
“Then should I try a cigarette again like old times?”
From the back seat, Simran shot him a sharp look.
“No, no… Karthik is a bad boy. No cigarette,” Aarudhra scolded him playfully.
“Sir, at this hour you won’t find coffee shops on this route. Only normal bakeries will be open,” the driver said.
“Mmm… that’s okay.”
After a few more kilometers, they spotted a bakery beside a petrol bunk.
“I want chocolate!” Aarudhra insisted as she climbed out of the car.
Aarudhra bought two Dairy Milk chocolates, while Simran picked up a bottle of water.
Aarudhra stretched one of the chocolates toward the driver.
“Here, uncle… today is my birthday.”
“Oh, it’s your birthday? Happy Birthday!” he said with a smile, accepting it and slipping it into his pocket.
“Thank you, uncle.”
“Alright, come on, let’s go,” Simran said, leading her back toward the car.
The driver bought tea, while Karthik got himself a coffee. The two of them sat outside the shop beneath a large neem tree.
Another car was parked near the shop. Empty coffee cups lay scattered across a table. Four men were chatting animatedly in Hindi. The number plate on their car showed that it was from Maharashtra.
Outside, under the wide neem tree, the two men sat on plastic chairs. A lamp hung from one of the branches, and insects circled endlessly around its light.
The chill of January made their bodies shiver. It had been a long time since Karthik had experienced such a peaceful night. The last truly happy trip he remembered was the Europe tour he had taken four years ago.
After that, Aarudhra’s health had begun to worsen. Most of their time had been spent wandering from one hospital to another with her. Only in the last six months had a little happiness slowly returned to their lives.
The driver kept looking at him.
“Late marriage, sir?”
Karthik hadn’t expected the question. Yet he wasn’t surprised that it had been asked.
He took a sip of coffee and looked up at the sky. The stars appeared faint and blurred. Still gazing upward, he began to speak.
“I got married at twenty-five…”
He let out a deep sigh. After a pause, he continued, and there was more pain in his voice now.
“For twelve years, we couldn’t have a child… Then, when my wife finally conceived, she was very weak. They told us this was our last chance. But somehow, Aarudhra was born safely… nothing happened to either of them.”
Happiness returned to his voice as he spoke those last words.
The two men slowly finished their drinks and walked back toward the car.
As he got in, Karthik kept wondering why he had shared such personal things with someone he didn’t even know. He couldn’t understand it himself. But his heart felt a little lighter now.
All three inside the car were asleep. Every few seconds, Karthik glanced through the mirror at Simran and Aarudhra in the back seat. Simran slept holding Aarudhra close against her chest.
The driver noticed it too from time to time.
“Love marriage, sir?”
“Mmm.”
“She looks North Indian, that’s why I asked.”
“She’s Punjabi.”
“Oh… but she speaks Tamil really well.”
Karthik kept watching the distant lights glowing in the darkness as he replied.
“She was born and brought up here… We got to know each other during college.”
After a brief silence, Karthik asked,
“What about you?”
“I was in love once… but I didn’t marry that girl.”
He smiled faintly before continuing.
“I was eighteen then, sir. Her parents had already arranged her marriage somewhere else. I didn’t have a job… not even five paisa in my hand. How could she trust me and come away with me? So it just ended there…”
He overtook a huge tanker lorry ahead before continuing his story.
“After that, I drifted around for five or six years — no college, no studies… drinking, roaming the town, taking up whatever odd jobs I could find. Finally, my family thought I’d never become anything if I went on like that, so they married me to my aunt’s daughter. After that, as they say, a new leaf turned in my life…”
He let out a small sigh. His tone had become calm now, as though he were a completely different man speaking.
“A year later, my daughter was born… My whole life changed, sir. I gave up everything and started working seriously. I felt like I should buy the whole world for her.”
Karthik looked at Aarudhra again through the mirror.
“All those people in my village who once told me straight to my face that I was good for nothing… they later came searching for my house, invited me personally to their daughters’ weddings, and said, ‘You must definitely come, sir.’ Just taking good care of your family brings respect on its own, sir.”
That day, it was as though someone had cast a spell on the car. The driver, who usually never spoke much with customers, talked endlessly today like a flood breaking through a dam. Karthik, who normally spoke to everyone with measured words and polished restraint like a seasoned businessman, found himself speaking freely beyond his own control, even sharing deeply personal things without hesitation.
At one point, Simran woke briefly from her sleep and was surprised to see the two men talking and laughing together. It had been many years since she had seen Karthik like this. Only in the last six months had he slowly begun returning to his normal self. She watched him quietly for a while before drifting back to sleep.
“Is it your own car?” Karthik asked.
“No, sir. It’s a rental.”
They continued talking about many things. They spoke about sports.
“I’ve liked tennis since I was young. Even now, whenever I get the time, I play tennis or badminton with my friends…”
In all his years, the driver had never met anyone who liked tennis or actually played it.
“For us, it’s always cricket, sir… Even now, whenever I get time, I play. And after that Lubber Pandhu movie came out, the boys started calling me ‘Gethu’ and all…”
Karthik listened with a faint smile. He had never watched that film.
They spoke about politics too.
Karthik’s father had been a minister and had died while still in office. He had been an extremely influential man. Though Karthik himself had never been interested in politics, he had grown up surrounded by party workers, flags, and political discussions that constantly filled their home. His uncle was an influential MLA. During Aarudhra’s surgery, they had received a great deal of help from people in power. From that time onward, Karthik had gradually become aligned with that political party himself. He donated generously without hesitation.
The driver, meanwhile, supported the opposition party. Though he wasn’t an official member, he always spoke in favor of them, even among friends. He was a fierce critic of the ruling party.
They spoke about God too.
“I never really had much faith from childhood. I won’t sit and argue philosophy about whether God exists or not… Sometimes I’d go to the temple for my mother’s sake. But lately, my faith has grown stronger. Even now, we’re returning after visiting Palani…”
He looked through the mirror at his family, sleeping peacefully inside the car.
“I’ve always had a bit of devotion since childhood… Every year, I wear the mala for Ayyappan. Even if I live however I want for the other eleven months, Margazhi is always for Ayyappan…”
After a long pause, he let out a deep sigh and spoke again.
“But God doesn’t come to save us when we want Him to, sir… These days, my faith has reduced a lot. In the end, we have to save ourselves.”
Karthik felt slightly uncomfortable. He guessed that the man must have gone through some kind of loss. But he didn’t ask anything further.
The car had crossed Chengalpattu and was moving ahead.
“Is this your family?” Karthik asked, looking at the photo placed on the dashboard.
“Yes, sir.”
His wife was wearing a red thread saree. A little boy and a little girl smiled brightly with their teeth showing. Yet, for some reason, neither the mother nor the father seemed truly happy in the picture. Everyone had streaks of vibuthi across their foreheads. Though the little girl was smiling, she looked terribly weak. Something about it unsettled him.
“What do the kids do?”
“My son, Santhosh, is six years old now… he’s in first standard…”
It took him a long time before he could continue speaking again.
“If my daughter were still here, she would’ve been eight now.”
For a moment, Karthik couldn’t understand what he had just heard. He stared at the driver silently.
“What do you mean?”
There was no reply from the driver. His eyes remained fixed on the road ahead. Slowly, Karthik began to understand. Even then, it took him a few minutes before he could speak again.
“What happened?”
Now, each time he spoke, the driver took a very long pause before answering.
“She had a heart problem… We consulted many doctors… They said she could only be saved with a heart transplant… But at the right time, we couldn’t get a matching heart…”
Karthik felt the breath leave his body. He swallowed hard, struggling to speak.
“When?”
“It’s been six months…”
Karthik began to feel dizzy. Gathering every bit of strength he had left, he forced himself to ask the final question.
“What was your daughter’s name?”
“Sangavi.”
Karthik could no longer sit still in that seat. He clutched the seatbelt tightly. Breathing became difficult. He rolled down the window. Cold air rushed violently against his face. Slightly awakened by the chill, Simran pulled her shawl over Aarudhra properly.
For the next half hour, neither of them spoke a word. Karthik didn’t even have the strength to look at the driver’s face anymore. He kept staring out at Chennai, still half-asleep in the early hours, until they finally reached home.
Aarudhra was still sleeping. Simran carried her in her arms and went inside the house with her mother-in-law.
Karthik remained seated inside the car. Slowly taking out his wallet, he said, “I’ll be back in a minute,” and hurried into the house. Five minutes later, he returned carrying a bag and handed it to the driver.
The driver opened it and was startled to see bundles of cash inside.
“What is this for, sir?”
“You’ve helped us in a very big way… that’s why.”
Karthik took out a visiting card from his pocket and handed it to him.
The driver accepted it and slipped it into his pocket. It settled beside the chocolate Aarudhra had given him.
After taking only a few notes from the bundle, the driver handed the rest of the money back to Karthik.
“This is my fare.”
“It’s okay… you keep all of it. Buy a car of your own.”
The driver smiled faintly. Then, looking straight into Karthik’s eyes, he asked softly,
“Sir… can a car and a heart ever have the same value?”
Karthik felt as though the ground had been pulled away beneath him. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak. He stood there frozen like a statue.
“I know who you are, sir… I recognized you long ago. I saw you back at the petrol bunk itself. When I saw you standing on the road, for one moment I became furious, sir… I even felt like pressing the accelerator and running you over. But I couldn’t do it. Even with so much anger inside me, I don’t know why I helped you… or how I spoke with you so normally all this way…”
The two men looked at each other in silence.
“Even now, God is still on your side, sir.”
Karthik writhed under the weight of guilt.
“No… my daughter… my situation was…”
“It’s alright, sir. If I had been in your place, I too would have thought only about saving my daughter somehow.”
Forcing the money back into Karthik’s hands, the driver started the car. The engine shuddered softly back to life.
Karthik looked at him with an emotion where gratitude and guilt were painfully intertwined.
“Your name…?”
The driver smiled gently and said,
“Murugan.”
The car slowly pulled away.
*****
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