A blast of cool air hit me as I walked into the corridor. I brushed back a few loose strands of my hair from my face, smoothened my white apron and marched into the office. Madame Christine was looking at a bunch of papers. I cleared my throat. Putting away the papers she looked up as I nodded in acknowledgment. She simply opened the attendance register. Hastily I signed ,all the while fixing an unnecessary smile on my face. Then I marched out of the room pinning the Head Nurse badge to my chest. Again I was back in my mundane life and the daily drudgery of a person associated with the medical profession. I knew I had a tough job ahead to concentrate on my clinical duties after enjoying a week long vacation.

The hospital was busy as usual. Doctors and nurses moved about among the ward boys carrying stretchers. Few relatives were anxiously waiting for any news of their patient and the whole place smelled of antiseptic and detergents. All the staff bowed with respect , a thing which fails to awe me any more. Pasting a smile on my face I entered a room at the farthest corner of the hall. The curtains were drawn around the two beds in the room. As I contemplated moving out suddenly a voice startled me.

"Ma'am!" a smooth silky male voice whispered. Looking around I saw a young man in his early thirties was peering from behind a row of blue curtains. He had sharp features and liquid blue eyes which were gazing longingly at me. His skin was pale and there were dark rings under his eyes. But an unnatural shine made his eyes stand out.
As duty demands I moved towards him wondering what he was suffering from. I thought he must be in need of help.

"Yes," I replied pleasantly, "How may I help you?"
This basic courtesy came normally with my position. I looked around for the nurse deputed to take care of him. There was no one in sight. Dejectedly I turned back and looked at the man. He had a cast on his leg. I read the patient card attached to the foot of his bed. Compound fracture of the leg. He was considerably cheerful but I could see him grimacing from time to time. He was nervously fidgeting with his fingers. Clearly he was uncomfortable .I moved closer and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder and repeated my question. He gave me a strange look.

" Can you help me? Can you really? Tell me," he demanded.
I was stunned.

"I am the Head Nurse," I muttered.

"Will you believe me? Will you," there was some childlike delight and happiness mingled with curiosity in his voice.
"Of course I will. My orders will be followed by all," said I indignantly .

Suddenly a nurse strolled into the room with a tray of food . Seeing me her eyes widened. I gestured her that nothing was wrong and I was just on my routine ward visits. She gingerly placed the tray of fruits on the bedside table and whispered to me, "Madam, can I have a word.."

I followed her into the passage and closed the heavy door behind me. I looked expectantly at the nurse who shifted from one foot to another. I was suddenly irritated. Seeing the expression on my face she timidly said, "I am afraid we have to shift Mr Dylan Cromwell to the psychiatry wing. He is abnormal."
I was exasperated . "He had only a fracture for God's sake," I replied icily. Leaving the stupefied nurse standing I went back to the man who was lazily sprawling on the bed. On hearing my footsteps he gazed dreamily at me. I felt bad for him. He seemed perfectly normal, if I was remembering my psychology lessons correctly. He just seemed lonely. I could feel his longing to communicate with someone. Drawing up a chair I sat beside his bed.

The glassy deep blue irises were staring fixedly at me. Unknowingly I shivered as his eyes bore into me studying me with caution. Finally he heaved a sigh of relief.

I waited for him to say what he wanted when his lips whispered," I have to get there." As I looked suddenly I felt like the brightness in his eyes were dimming. He looked straight at me, and I could see a desperation in his eyes. He frantically reached for my hand and held it tight. Shocked I tried to draw it back when he said, "Why are you talking to me. Who are you? Why are you with me when all else shun me?" He waited for an answer all the while clinging to my hand. I gently drew it back and positioned my chair to maintain the minimum professional distance. I looked around furtively as to whether the small incident was spotted. All went about their own chores. I heaved a sigh of relief and placed a comforting hand over his shoulder. He didn't try to take my hands again but instead drew his knees to his chest and curled up into a ball. I was pained to see him so vulnerable and weak. I wanted to tell him that it was my responsibility to console my patients and I was doing my duty. But somehow it felt more. Like for the first time in my life I felt like I wanted to know what those lovely eyes were thinking.

Without waiting for my reply he asked, " Where is my watch?" I was puzzled by the eccentric behaviour. It was as if he couldn't focus on a particular thing. He was nearing hysteria. I started searching for his watch when he asked, "Why doesn't anybody realise that time can go back."
I stared at him for a minute before replying, "But time really can't be turned back. Can it ?" Those liquid eyes glazed over. He buried his face in his hands.

"Nobody believes in me," he wept.

I didn't know how to explain the impossible to him. Instead I kept quiet.