The game

The game is not lost till it is won. And till you have even a minute of game left, you have sixty seconds worth of chance to win.

These were the thoughts swimming in my head at breakneck speed on my way to the hospital.

It was 8:55 am. I had reached the ITO crossing. I knew if I found this signal red, it would take away three minutes of precious time I had left to reach BEFORE nine.

I rejoiced. YES! I rejoiced. The signal was green! This had to be God telling me winning could be a possibility. I crossed the crossing( well... what else would you do to a crossing!?) The road ahead was clear. Strange at this time of the day. Now, I had this stretch of a clear road ahead and the final traffic signal. If this too was green, I would be in time.

Red. I saw from a distance. Oh no! three minutes. My eyes moved from the road to the dashboard. the clock was incessantly moving. Who can stop or slow down time? Theory of relativity is great but not when you have a deadline in a few minutes.

8:56, the clock proclaimed. I was drawing nearer to the signal. I slowed the car. 60kmph to 50. Still red. Further slowed to 40 and then 30. The signal turned green, I was still a few yards away. Yippee! My heart jumped for joy.

8:57.
I knew I could not cover the last stretch in three minutes. But, it was not a lost cause. Till the last second ticked and the clock actually said nine, the fight was not over! I kept on.

8:58.
Very close. Almost at the gate. No milk truck had come in the way, no cycle rickshaw overloaded with tiny school children rolling slowly in front of me. I was at the gate. Now only to turn in! I had made it. The triumph of spirit over matter. The triumph of fortune over time.

Just then, not one but two cycle rickshaws entered my field of vision. Coming in from the opposite side, almost at the gate. They did not stop. I had to stop to let them pass.

8:59.
One rickshaw passed. The next one rolled along. These two s...l...o...w...l...y passed my next few seconds away in an excruciating transit in front of the hospital gate. The clock struck nine. I was still out here!

The game was over.

I was, however, strangely at peace... I had tried, almost won, and then, not really but very nearly lost. Was this so important? Would it be as important tomorrow? Would it be so dramatic after a year? After five years?