The Cough That Saved My Family

I think I was around 7 or 8 years old, and like most children, I happened to have one teddy bear that I immensely loved. This was way before today’s digital age, where best friends are now faceless and hidden behind screens. Ah! I don’t want to turn cynical on a bright Sunday morning… I am in a mood to reminisce about a good old night when I embraced death and walked out of it because of a cough.

So, where was I?

Yes, a teddy bear.

I don’t know who bought it for me. It may have been my grandpa. I don’t remember my father ever buying me a teddy bear. He did buy me toys and video games and a cricket bat, but I have no recollection of him ever getting me a bear. Ah! I am getting distracted again.

Let me come to the bear…

Yes, so it was about 10 to 15 inches long, had black-brown fur, and had these yellow button eyes. It was scary, to be honest. Like, you don’t hand something like that to a child and expect them to be happy?? Right?

Anyway, I had it, and I remember how every night I would cuddle it against my chest before sleeping. And sleeping… so, growing up, we slept on a floor bed. Papa on the door’s side, me and my sister in the middle, and Maa on the left, closer to the almirah.

My sister suffered a terrible case of cerebral palsy, so severe that it took away her basic motor functions. She caught a cold easily, and every other month we had to rush her to the hospital because of pneumonia. Because of this, my family decided against turning on the fan or getting a cooler (trust me, an air conditioner was out of the question for us in early-90s Ujjain).

That’s why the arrangement stayed fixed. Papa closer to the door, which remained closed most nights. Me next to him. Garima on my left. Maa on Garima’s left.

And in between Garima and me, there was this teddy bear.

Now, back in those days, houses used to have night lamps fitted directly inside the wall. There would be a bright red or yellow bulb, covered by a translucent glass panel with wooden borders. Most houses had one, and if you are someone like me, who grew up in such houses, you will tell me your house had one too.

Now, one night…

We were all deep in our sleep when I heard Maa shouting.

It was close to 4 in the morning, but the room was bright and smoky. And no, the smoke was nothing like the kind that comes from a Marlboro. That one would enter my life a few years after that night in Ujjain.

My papa lifted me and rushed outside into the hallway leading to my uncle’s bedroom. Maa lifted my sister. Within seconds, the entire house had rushed into our room.

Nuclear families, take a note: this is the benefit of living in a joint household.

Hours later, I got to know that the teddy bear had caught fire. I don’t know how or why (I could invent some scenario here and hand you an excuse, but I want to be honest today); my teddy bear had been lying too close to that wall-mounted night lamp.

And how did we wake up?

My sister, who had extremely fragile lungs, could not bear the slightest smoke and started to cough. That cough woke my Maa, and my Maa woke the house, and Papa carried all of us to safety.

See, my sister could never walk, never talk, never move her head in any direction. But that night, her condition saved us. It saved my entire family… it saved me.

So why am I writing this today?

Well, a few days back, I submitted my final manuscript to my publisher for typesetting. As most of you know, my forthcoming science-fiction novel talks a lot about grief and the longing I have carried since the passing of my sister. The story holds many such instances, memories, and dreams from my years of growing up beside her.

This particular memory, though, could not make it into the book because I had completely forgotten about it. Last night (July 18, 2026), I was looking at my recently renovated office space… I saw the new ceiling light that spreads a warm yellow glow… the one that looks translucent through the large French window separating my bedroom from my office… and that light… this new warm light took me back to the night my sister saved all of us.

Sadly, the memory did not arrive in time, or I would have made sure it found a page in the novel. But since I forgot and only remembered it last week, I thought… I can at least give it some words, right?

Maybe some memories wait until we are ready to hold them.