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Corridors of Quiet Chaos
Blinding lights, the smell of chlorhexidine
Green colored scrubs, white coats and the strange red of povidone-iodine
A place where chaos and calm coexist as two sides of a coin
A realm where anguish and hope align, a balance between both cruel and divine
It’s a glimpse of hope for some, for others it’s a livelihood
It’s a place where trials of love, life and relations many have withstood
While one breathes his first, other breathes his last
It’s a place where everyone belongs to the same community, race and caste
Its walls have heard more genuine prayers than any Temple, Mosque or Church
Its floors have felt more weary knees than any sacred perch
Life and death, love and hate, the lines between all is blurred
A place where a doctor’s ambition and the patient’s belief are undeterred
Though it’s a privilege to be here, especially when I am not the ill and sick
Sometimes, I close my eyes and truly wish
Couldn’t everyone be cured of all their diseases
If every pain could find release, and all suffering forever cease
But then I realize it is truly a miracle, the existence of such a place
A place where both God and Death, we truly embrace
From reading about bones like parietal and occipital
I step into this new world- The Hospital.
Copyright ©
Aishwaryaa Saraswati
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