1 year passed from that fateful day.
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The morning greeted Azhini with a dull, overcast sky, its heavy clouds mirroring the turmoil within her. The muffled patter of drizzle against her window added to the quiet gloom that enveloped her apartment. She brewed herself a cup of bittersweet coffee, the aroma faintly soothing her restless thoughts. Wrapping both hands around the warm mug, she held on to it as though it were the only source of comfort she could cling to.
Like clockwork, she opened her laptop and checked her emails. The usual flood of updates and newsletters filled her inbox, but nestled among them were three messages bearing good news—her research papers had been accepted in PubMed-indexed, high-impact journals. Any other day, this achievement would have thrilled her, but today, it barely managed to bring a flicker of joy. She scrolled further and sighed heavily, her eyes catching a forwarded message from a colleague. It was one of those motivational chains, with Sigmund Freud’s quote prominently displayed:
"We are never so defenseless against suffering as when we love."
Azhini chuckled darkly, muttering, “How painfully true.” She took a sip of coffee, its bitterness matching her mood, and stared out at the rain-streaked window.
She had taken the day off, hoping a break from her routine might help, but instead, the emptiness felt heavier. The stillness of her apartment and the idleness of her mind only amplified the thoughts she had been trying to suppress.
With a deep sigh, she leaned back against her chair. Maybe busy duty days weren’t so bad after all.
Her brooding was abruptly interrupted by the sharp ring of her phone. Startled, she quickly grabbed it, the name flashing on the screen familiar.
“Azhu, come fast!” her colleague’s voice was hurried, the urgency palpable even through the call.
“What?” Azhini asked, blinking in confusion. “Speak slowly, I can’t understand—”
“No time for that! Professor is taking us to see a special case,” her colleague cut in, breathless. “It’s related to your research—suspended animation.”
Azhini froze for a moment, the words sinking in. “What did you just say?”
“You heard me!” her colleague shot back, irritation creeping into her voice. “Come quickly! We’ll leave in ten minutes. Don’t be late!”
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The line went dead before Azhini could ask for more details. For a moment, she sat still, her mind racing. Suspended animation? What could this case be about? Her curiosity sparked despite her lingering lethargy.
In an instant, she placed the now-cold coffee mug on the table and sprang into action. Throwing on a simple kurta and tying her hair into a quick ponytail, she grabbed her essentials—a notebook, her stethoscope, and her phone—and rushed out of the door.
As she stepped into the drizzling morning, a strange mix of unease and anticipation settled over her. She didn’t know what awaited her, but something about this call felt different. The gloomy sky seemed to foreshadow that her day was about to change in ways she couldn’t yet comprehend.
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Azhini hurried into the bustling department, the air electric with excitement and chaos. Doctors and students were rushing around, hastily packing medical kits, scribbling notes, and discussing theories, their chatter blending into a lively hum.
“Hey, guys!” she greeted breathlessly, pushing a stray strand of hair out of her face.
“Hey, Azhu,” Kumar called out, raising an eyebrow. “Weren’t you taking the day off today?”
Before Azhini could respond, Priya handed her a water bottle and replied on her behalf, “Yeah, she did. But this case is right up her alley. I called and dragged her here.”
“Yeah, yeah, alright,” Priya teased, nudging Azhini lightly. “Our girl doesn’t study ordinary cases, does she? This one’s the rarest of the rare.”
Kumar, still skeptical, chimed in, “But we don’t even know if it’s really suspended animation. I mean, I’ve never seen a case like that in my entire career.”
Azhini nodded, catching her breath. “You’re right. I haven’t either—except once. That was a 108-year-old grandpa who was initially declared dead during assessment but turned out to be alive. His vitals were so slow and feeble, it was almost imperceptible. His family couldn’t believe it. Luckily, one of our professors lived nearby and figured it out. After long history taking only she knew that the grand pa secretly followed an unknown sage. She showed me the case, and it changed my life. From that day on, I’ve been obsessed with suspended animation.”
Kumar whistled, shaking his head. “Seriously, Azhu, you’re lucky to have seen something like that.”
Azhini chuckled darkly, her tone laced with irony. “Not really.”
Before anyone could respond, Priya leaned in excitedly. “But listen, today’s patient isn’t some grandpa. I overheard our professor talking on the phone. The patient is a young man.” Her face lit up with intrigue.
Kumar frowned. “That’s exactly why I’m skeptical. Suspended animation in someone young? That’s unusual.”
“Exactly,” Azhini said, adjusting her stethoscope around her neck. “We can’t jump to conclusions before assessing the case. For all we know, he could just be unconscious or in a coma. It could even be something common like a young stroke.”
Priya grinned. “Maybe, maybe. But you should’ve seen our professor’s face. It was priceless. He looked so tense, like he knew this wasn’t an ordinary case.”
“What happened?” Azhini asked, her curiosity piqued. “Don’t keep me in suspense.”
Kumar replied, “We’re just as clueless as you are. He got a phone call, and after that, everything changed. He started flipping through books, pacing back and forth, sweating like crazy. Then suddenly, he declared we were going to see a suspended animation case.”
“Seriously?” Azhini exclaimed, wide-eyed. “What on earth is going on?”
“Exactly!” Priya said, her voice rising with excitement. “How could you even think of staying safe and cozy at home when all this madness was happening here? That’s why I called you. You would’ve regretted missing out.”
The group burst into laughter, their excitement infectious.
“Hey, stop chatting and get moving!” a senior doctor called out, gesturing toward the packed medical kits. “Help load everything into the van, quickly!”
Snapping out of their conversation, everyone rushed to finish packing. Boxes, medical bags, and equipment were carried out in a flurry of motion.
The professor entered the room just as they were finishing up, his face as composed as ever, though his eyes betrayed a sense of urgency. Without wasting another moment, he ushered them all into the waiting van.
The rain drizzled lightly as the vehicle started its journey, leaving behind the familiar walls of their department. Azhini stared out at the gloomy skies, her mind racing with possibilities. She couldn’t shake the feeling that this was no
ordinary case—and that it might change everything.
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