This sounded heartless, but Rahul knew it was not. He had had many conversations with Siddharth about his work, although this was the first time he had experienced it himself. Siddharth had said that there was a time when you had to let go, when life could no longer be sustained, and the doctor had to accept it and go on with his work. In this case, Rahul thought, it was almost like bargaining with God.
If you agree to let the boy live, you can take the old man. He has to die, anyway, he’s lived his life. But the boy is young. Let him live. Was it Yama, the god of Death, that Rahul was thinking of? He watched the crows feeding busily on the chana, and drank his tea.
Presently he said, “You’ve got quite a stunner as your co.”
“Oh, Devika,” grinned Siddharth. “So you’re taken with her as
