Behind the Wheel

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Daanish Bin Nabi

Sunday, January 15, 2017, we had planned to visit some relatives at our hometown Sopore.

The previous night, we had scheduled to leave at 10 am. As usual, the women folk of our household did not meet the deadline, and we left at 11 am. I was fuming with anger, because I believe we must respect and value time. 


From 10 to 11 am, I had already scolded my niece Adiva twice for getting late. When her Mom came, I conveyed my anger to her. You can win an argument with an illiterate, but never with a woman. I gave up.

But all this was routine family chatter. As soon as I started the car, the atmosphere changed and everyone started chatter.

Adiva was still not talking. She never expected such angry words from me. I love her as my own daughter. She knows she means the world to me.

As soon as we crossed the bypass road, I started teasing her, making funny faces and noises. I was trying to cheer her, so that she would not remember I had got angry with her at home.

She was not amused, and kept repeating that she would not talk to me again.

None of us could have imagined that the next 50 seconds would turn our life upside down.

We reached Narbal area. I was driving at a speed of about 70 kilometers an hour, when a white vehicle overtook our car. Suddenly, the car came into our lane and banged into our car, sending our vehicle at least ten feet down the road.

Time seemed to be moving in a slow motion of horror and pain. I was numb with shock. My entire family was covered in blood. A red blanket had engulfed my elder brother, Wajahat Nazki. The last thing I remember before the accident was Wajahat seated beside me.

Nausea and shock made it difficult for me to see around. I did not realize that my mouth and nose were full of blood, and I was bleeding.

I saw Adiva and my younger niece Sinin shouting in pain and shock. My whole world was crumbling around me. I did not know what to do.

Soon, I saw some people rushing towards us. They took us to Noora Hospital in two cars. Adiva was with Wajahat, who was bleeding heavily. The child was dazed with shock.

I, Sinin and Naheed (Wajahat’s wife) were taken in another car. All of us were disoriented by the trauma.

At Noora Hospital, the doctors were unable to stop Wajahat’s bleeding. I saw blood coming out of my brother’s throat like it was water. I heard them murmuring that he had lost so much blood that he would not survive.

I mustered all my courage and tried to pacify Adiva and Sinin. But I couldn’t manage to say anything.

It is my sister-in-law who turned out to be the most courageous among us. Even after seeing Wajahat in this condition and despite her own injuries, she took charge and gave me courage and hope as doctors shifted us to JVC Bemina Hospital.

My sister-in-law kept up a strong front till our relatives were informed, and rushed to the hospital. In an acute state of trauma and worried for my family, I did not realize that I was bleeding from my mouth. My lower jaw was totally disfigured. I was also limping, not knowing that I had fractured my knee cap.

Wajahat was then shifted to SKIMS Hospital, where he was operated for hours together. A four inch glass slab was taken out of his throat. After the mishap, I realized that my sister-in-law has unbending willpower. It was only because of her that we all survived. She did not care for herself but for us.

I was driving the car, and I know that the accident was not my fault.

The reason my injuries are not as grievous as those of my brother is because I was wearing the seatbelt.

After the mishap, I realized how casual we are about the seatbelt. My brother was seated on the co-driver's seat.

Had he been wearing the seatbelt, the extent of his injuries may have been much less.

Cars also have seatbelts for the passengers on the back seat. In the West, it is mandatory for the backseat passengers to wear the seat belt, as these can be life saviours in case of an accident.

For us, seatbelts for backseat passengers is an alien concept.

I should have reminded my brother to wear the seatbelt when I strapped on my own. I am feeling guilty for not protecting my family. For my daughters Adiva and Sinin. I feel guilty for Wajahat. I feel guilty for Naheed. I pray to Allah to forgive me.

Published at January 25, 2017 in Rising Kashmir. Mail at daanishnabi@gmail.com





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