Accident story of bihar

Accidents such as these were not uncommon in the dead of a pitch-black moonless night on a remote highway, deep in the rural hinterlands of the Indian state of Bihar. To answer nature’s call in the open, sleepy villagers often crossed paved roads and national highways in the early hours.

Six hundred and thirty kilometres away from that unfortunate and unknown soul lying unconscious in the middle of a desolate highway in Bihar, a mother firmly hugged her son as he miraculously recovered from a deadly fever in a small and obscure rural

The village doctor had given an ultimatum the previous night, saying that the boy would not live to see the next day’s light. The mother knew that it was a miracle that her son had survived. She knew that the power of her God had triumphed over medical science.

Biju had started his job life as a helper to a lorry driver. Slowly he learned to drive himself and drove private cars for a while before shifting to commercial trucks transporting goods all over India. Two years ago, he finally managed to buy a brand-new Toyota Innova Crysta, making a hefty down payment from his savings, and paying the rest gradually through five-year monthly instalments. Now he was the proud owner of ‘Biju

Car Rental Services,’ his very own business. He was happy to drive private customers to any destination and back within the subcontinent. The pay was good, the food and company were better, and it was certainly more comfortable than driving a rattling sixteen-wheeler.

With his nerves still shaking, Biju wondered how he could fall asleep behind the wheel with such a rested mind. The driver had not touched a drop of his favoured hooch in the past week. Neither had he smoked his favourite pot of hash. He had slept well the previous day and started his night drive with a relaxed and focussed mind. He wondered what ill fate or divine

intervention had forced him to shut his eyes.

Biju was eager to complete his twelve-hour journey in a single go to meet his wife and child. He was returning home after chauffeuring a client around Bihar for the past week and finally dropping him off in Patna city. “How could I have fallen asleep,” shouted Biju and banged his fists on the steering wheel of his beloved car.

He thought he couldn’t fall asleep that way unless a god or a ghoul had intervened. Perhaps he was just an instrument in the hands of Yama, the deity of death who might have been there to take away the unfortunate man. He silently complained to the Devas for their cruel ways and cursed the Rakshasas for their bloodlust for the innocent. He did not know which force had caused the accident. He wondered

whether it was the handiwork of the heavenly angels of the skies or the hellish demons of the depths? He did not know such things; he had always preferred to avoid religious and occult matters. He thought his wife would perhaps know, as she always stayed immersed in rituals and prayers.

“One never goes back. You never go back. I cannot go back,” mumbled Biju, still shaking from the unfortunate encounter a few minutes back. Drivers on Indian roads usually did not stop when they ran over someone. They feared being beaten to death or lynched by the mob in the absence of cops. When a driver could not drive away from the scene of an accident, he usually abandoned his vehicle and ran to hide and save his life. In most cases, their vehicle would be vandalised and burned to the ground by angry men on the streets if the police

were not present or failed to arrive in time.

Though Biju had never run over a person, he had killed a dog once. The unfortunate canine had come in front of his truck from nowhere, and he could not apply the brakes in time to save the animal’s life. The episode had left him miserable for days. It had left a permanent scar on his soul that he had not shared with anyone, and now he had perhaps killed a man. How could he live with that?

“The man was still moving; he could be alive. If I take him to a hospital, perhaps he will not die. What if he’s already dead? Should I keep driving, or should I go back,” Biju’s mind filled with a million contradictions? Unable to focus on the road, too disturbed with his thoughts, Biju braked hard and once again

The jerk from a sudden impact startled Biju from his momentary slumber. In a split second, he applied the brakes as years of driving instincts kicked in, and the Toyota Innova Crysta veered and screeched to a dead halt. As the smell of grazed rubber gently floated into the MUV through its rolled-down windows, beads of perspiration appeared on the forehead of its seasoned driver. Looking back in his rearview mirror, Biju said a silent prayer and drove away as the broken body of an unknown man lay twitching in a pool of blood.