Malady in Mumbai

I was on the most awaited trip to India with 25 of my classmates. Delhi, Jaisalmer, Jaipur and Agra later, we had finally arrived Mumbai. "सपनो का शहर ".

Jaipur

The morning that we reached Jaipur, I felt more tired than usual. I mean, it was normal to feel that way since we rode the train through the night but, it was a bit unusual. While all my friends were busy getting ready for the day, I jumped straight into bed and fell asleep right away.
I woke up two hours later, at around 8:00 in the morning. Getting up, I felt weak. I went to the bathroom to freshen up but could not stand sitting in a closed space without ventilation. I was never claustrophobic. I started sweating. I felt nauseated and my temperature was rising but I chose to ignore it and somehow got ready. We got down to the reception. I called aama and told her that I didn't feel well that morning.
It was Jaipur, a city that I had visited two years back with my parents. I wasn't much excited about it anyways. The whole day I kept feeling different. Uneasy. The sun was  stronger that day and with constant headache and mild sunburns, I had little interest to take pictures. However weak I was feeling, I still had to go places, walk uphill to Amer fort. I did all that. That evening, by the time we reached the hotel, I was exhausted. I had no desire for dinner or anything. Chahana felt nauseated too We went straight to our room. I turned the TV on to BBC news. Donald Trump winning the election was flashing. He had won by a major margin over Hillary. I was kinda glad. I don't know why.
I fell asleep. By the time that I woke up, my temperature had rose so much, I was practically radiating heat. 104 deg it must have been. I took a paracetamol with a glass of Jeevan Jal and slept it off.
My fever was on and off ever since. I remember my worst time during the 28 hours train ride to Mumbai. I was tightly wrapped in a thin blanket with nothing proper to eat or drink. Tonsillitis had made drinking water difficult. Without warm water or fever friendly food, my condition worsened.

Mumbai

Morning, around 5, we reached Mumbai. By this time, I felt the weakest. I wasn't even able to carry my backpack, let alone my suitcase. Samjhana and Niraj were generous enough to help me out with the luggage. I tightly grabbed Chahana's arm on my way to the hotel, taking multiple stops for rest. I was so weak. We reached the reception, I got seated and asked for a glass of warm water. Santosh dai, our new guide for Mumbai noticed how ill I looked and decided on taking me to the hospital.
I got to our room and looked into the mirror. I looked UGLY. Legit ugly. My face red with dark red spots and blackheads all over. I noticed I'd gotten thinner than before. An elderly man knocked on the door asking me to come down to get to the hospital. Chahana, Santosh dai, Ram dai (our other guide), some older looking man, the driver and I got into a black Maruti Omni and drove to the nearby government hospital. Santosh dai and Ram dai had some work to attend to so, Chahana and the old man took me to the emergency. Dr. Harsh and a beautiful female doctor in a Hijab did a basic check up and referred me for a blood test. We got to the counter and guess what? Indian hospitals are super cheap! My entire examination, tests , medicine and procedures just cost me INR 40. I thought about our hospitals back home.
We walked through this scary looking empty corridor with repeating arches to the pathology lab. The technician took a drop of my blood for Malaria and other related tests. Few of the reports would be out in 15 minutes. I was so weak and couldn't even sit straight. I laid my head on Chahana's lap and slept on the bench till the reports came out. Ram dai and Santosh dai arrived later. We took our reports back to Dr. Harsh's office.
The Malaria report had come out negative. I was briefly relieved. However, the persistent fever and tonsillitis needed to be treated. I got an injection on my back to control my fever. A few needles on my hand for saline infusion and a few on the side of my wrist for blood samples. It was the first time ever in my life that I had to be given a saline infusion. I knew, it wasn't a big deal but, I felt vulnerable laying at a hospital bed on a foreign land. I got my prescribed medication and checked out an hour later. Doctor informed that he'd text me my blood reports. That day we went to the Mumbai water kingdom.
The next morning I felt weak again. We were to go to the Elephanta caves that day. A two hour ferry from the Taj hotel would take us to the Elephanta Island. Throughout the journey, I felt sea sick. I was in no mood to take pictures or do anything at all. I just sat there, head down, covering my "hideous" face with a scarf.
We reached the Island. Everyone but me took each other's pictures. I didn't feel like it. A few locals took pictures with me thinking I was a western foreigner, that was about it. (It's common to see locals asking for pictures with random strangers in India. I was used to it by then.) While returning to the bay, I got a text from Dr. harsh saying my Dengue reports had come out positive. A kind man that he was, kept on texting me all the do's and don'ts for Dengue and constantly reminded me not to worry. I couldn't even bring myself to reply to single of his texts. All I knew was that Dengue was life threatening and I was on a trip thousands of kilometers away from home.
At that moment I missed home more than ever. All I could think of was my bedroom back home at Nakhipot and laying there on my aama's lap peacefully. I didn't want to visit Goa or beaches or any more of India. +I missed my life back home so much that I knew I was ill. We got onto the ferry to return back to Mumbai. I had a million thoughts in my head. I called aama as soon as I got proper reception and told her I got Dengue. I couldn't stop my tears as I heard her voice. On a boat filled with strangers, I cried my heart out, as silently as I could. I hugged Chahana, she hugged me back, tightly. She was crying too. Aama didn't want me to stay far from her in India one more bit! Mama immediately arranged for my last minute tickets to home via Delhi in Jet airways. By the time we reached Mumbai land, my return journey was all set.
The journey was to begin for this pale, thin and weak girl. I had lost 3kgs in such short time. The journey where I had to be stonger than I had ever had to be, more patient than I ever thought I could be.

Journey back home

It was 3:27 in the afternoon. On my constant phone-calls with mama while on the ferry, I had informed him my whereabouts. I had told him that I'd get off in front of the hotel Taj in Mumbai to which he said "Oh great! Close to the airport." We had two options, first was a 7pm flight to Delhi and other a 5pm one. I couldn't wait any longer to be back home. So, the 5pm ticket was booked. Now, here's what went wrong. Turns out, there are two Taj hotels in Mumbai. One in front of the India Gate, where I was and the other 1.5 hours drive away, close to the airport, where mama thought I was.
I was supposed to reach the airport and get my boarding pass by 4:15 at the Chhatrapati Shivaji domestic airport. The watch read 3:27. My luggage was at the hotel, we had 45 minutes in hand and the destination was 1.5 hours away. It seemed impossible! In a panic, following mama's advice,
I decided to go on without the luggage.
A blue spaghetti strap cotton dress, an orange wind cheater, Chahana's brick-red scarf and my black sling bag were all I had. We took a taxi, a Maruti Omni, which seemed to be my official ride for India. The driver promised to try his best to get us to the airport on time. By us, I mean Chahana, Govinda and me. I couldn't even bid my friends goodbye. the time was ticking and we had to hop into the first ride we found.
We were at Mumbai. The city of dreams. The city of Bollywood, a city of fiction. And. At that very moment, I felt like I was living a movie of my own. The Omni van started and the scariest cab ride of all three of our lives began. It felt as if we were driving through the streets in a car chase. With no regard for the rest of the traffic whatsoever, our Maruti beat Mitsubishi, Volkswagen, BMW, Mercedes on our way. We were holding onto the egde of our seats. Chahana's and my phone was buzzing non-stop from Nepal. Govinda didn't even speak. We all had that dreaded look on our faces, eyes fixed ahead. Oh, we were scared!
The clock struck 4:10 by the time we entered the terminal. By 4:15 I was inside the airport. Funny thing, I had always wanted to visit the Chhatrapati airport, for seeing its majestic columns and large span space frames. How beautifully the airport had executed structure with architecture. I was sad the day before when we passed through the airport without getting to visit inside. Dramatic turns of events and here I was, one day later, with two plane tickets in my hand and Dengue virus in my system. Universe sure does work in mysterious ways!
So, I went inside. My first time travelling alone by air. I tried getting my boarding pass through the machine nearby. No boarding pass. I tried multiple times. Still no pass. It was 4:25 by then. I found out that I had just missed the time frame. Luckily, an airport official helped me out and I got my boarding pass for Delhi and Nepal. I rushed towards the gate. Gate 64. Thank God for I didn't bring my luggage along. It would have been impossible for me to race through with two huge bags dragging me. Phew!
Five minutes later than the advised time, I reached the gate. Thankfully the flight had been delayed by fifteen minutes. Since it was my first international flight, I boarded the plane hoping for the window seat. No luck, my seat was crammed between the window and aisle seats. The window seat gentleman was kind enough to let me capture multiple pictures of the sunset through his window.
Due to my illness, maybe, it was the most uncomfortable 1.8 hours. I felt dizzy and nauseated throughout. I patiently waited for the plane to land. We landed at the Delhi airport at 7:15 p.m. I had my next international flight to home scheduled at 9:00 p.m. I was in a cruise mode since I already had my boarding pass. "No rush!", I thought. But then I remembered mama asking me to hurry through as the officials were likely to stall me for not having a passport. "A quick visit to the restroom and I'll rush through.", I thought.
I entered the washroom to a full body size mirror in front. I couldn't even look at my image twice. I was actually scared of who was standing in the reflection in front of me. There was a girl constantly checking herself in the mirror beside me. I thought to myself, "That used to be me." My legs were majorly scarred with red dots all over. An unaesthetic-ally lean figure. My face had never looked worse. A sick looking pair of eyes with puffy red eye bags, dry colorless lips and acne scarred face. I silently cried inside. I always made sure to look presentable in public and here I was in my worst form, naked in front of a thousand people. I had to be strong and look past my imperfections. That's what I had tried so hard to implement in the past year and half. I had regularly told myself to love myself. And that day, after 10 deep breaths, I did!
I walked through to reach the departure terminal for international flights through what seemed like the longest hallway ever. There wasn't a single person on the way. Strange. I walked through to see the departure gate. I went in and showed my boarding pass. The official asked me for my passport. I politely said that I didn't need one since I was a Nepali. The guy seemed really rude and skeptic about my nationality. He asked me for my citizenship, which I didn't have. I just had my license, I showed him that. the guy flipped out and very rudely asked me to get out of the line. I pledged and explained him everything. How I was on my trip with my friends, how I had got Dengue and was en route home. He could care less about what I had to say. He finally asked me to go to the second floor where the officials were to deal with my situation. I held my tears throughout the conversation. I don't know how. The lump in my throat could break anytime. I kept calm. At least I tried.
I walked to the second floor departure terminal. I called aama, she was on her way to Kathmandu and didn't notice her phone ringing. With a shaky voice, I called Bimba. My last resort was to get a picture of my citizenship through him and hope for the best. Turned out, he was on a trip to Pokhara. Somehow, I got through the first checking. I reached inside. That's when aama called. I muffled my voice with my scarf and cried my heart out, in front of all those people. I was weak and all I wanted was to board that plane, get home and hug aama the tightest I could. Aama panicked and promised me to do the best from her side.
I showed my tickets and my ID to the guy and he let me in. The final hurdle was the departure counter. I saw one specially designated for Nepali citizens. I went there and showed him my boarding pass and my license. The guy, 27-ish, asked me to meet with someone at the office. By this point, I had had enough. I broke down.
"कहाँ कहाँ जा चुकी हू। Dengue हुव है। थक गयी हू। " I said and  started crying. The guy felt bad for me. He got out of his desk with my license and my boarding pass to meet with his senior. The other guy, noted down my citizenship number and permitted to let me board the plane. While filling through my information on his computer, he, the sweetest, noticed me getting panicked. I remember him trying everything to make me smile. He asked me how my birthday went, which was a week back, and about how I rode a scooty and not bikes. I smiled. He smiled seeing me smile. I might still have a little crush on him.
So, it was 8:30 p.m already. I was majorly late for my flight. I was supposed to board the plane by 8:35 and I wasn't anywhere close to the gate. I looked to my side to see the longest line for the security check. The kind guy (why didn't I ask his name!) advised me to take the other entry that was for the staffs and the cabin crew. He informed the army and he was kind enough to let me through.
Now, this was my final race against time. I looked for my terminal. "Gate no. 6. Noted!". I checked the column beside the gate number, "Final call" was flashing in bright red. I rushed through the crowd, through the longest duty free aisle and across all the other terminals. "64-32... 32-24...24-12..." Terminal 6 seemed impossible. I was rushing through. The weak girl I was, I don't know where I got the energy, but, I walked really fast. I wanted to run through but I remembered all the times when I had run and I had fell. The time when I fell face front in front of the entire college. The time when I crashed into a senior while running at school. The time when I slipped in the reception lobby of a restaurant and bruised myself... "I'll stick to walking", I thought. Every time I passed through a terminal, I'd make sure to look for Jet airways flight to Kathmandu. "Final Call" in bright red would still be flashing.
"Gate 4-6 this way. Time: 2-15 minutes." read the board. I knew I could make it on time, in 2 mins, if I tried. I walked as fast as I could. Finally, I saw the airline personnel screaming "Final call for flight..." at the top of her lungs. I ran. I ran as fast as I could.
"Gate no. 6" the board read.
"I made it!"
I peacefully went inside and took my seat. I called aama. I found out that baba had called Nepal's ambassador to India, who happened to be in good terms with him and fortunately happened to be in Delhi at the moment. He had managed for someone to pick me up at the airport and take me to the embassy. However, that was now not needed. My family took a breath of relief and I was filled with this gratefulness for having such a loving family. I changed my sim to Nepal's. I can't explain the triumphant feeling I felt at that moment, a feeling of achievement that I had made it through all the odds. I was now, finally at peace.
Unlike my flight to Delhi, this one didn't have a lot of passengers. My assigned seat was aisle-side, however, I took the window seat. The entire row was empty. I, very comfortably, reached Kathmandu.
I got off the plane and walked through the exit aisle. From afar, I saw aama's and Gaurav dada's figure in silhouette. Tears were already building up in my eyes. The lump in my throat was struggling to stay in. I reached the exit gate. Gaurav dada walked forward. I hugged him. I saw aama looking at me with tearful eyes. I ran towards her, hugged her the tightest and cried my heart out at the gate. The moment I had been waiting for since I got ill at Jaipur had finally arrived. I felt like I was in a movie scene but the only difference was that This was actually happening. I was hugging aama at Nepal's airport and.. she was hugging me back! :)