I had called Dr. (Brigadier) Grover, the famous physician and Cardiologist from Batra Hospital, who examined Pitaji and said everything was all right, and all Pitaji needed was proper re-hydration – 1000 cc of fluids per day – and that He would recover when the virus fever subsided in 3-4 days time and did not rise again. “Hameshaan to koyi bhee naheen baitthaa raihtaa! Phir bhee meri health to iss umar men bhee itnee achhee hai!” “Nobody stays forever. However, my health is still very good even at this age.”Pran Nath had already said:“Priya, the faithfulness and devotion with which you have served Pitaji all these years means that all His Powers have been transferred to you.”I, on my part, could not conceive of such a possibility, knowing of my own unworthiness and could only say:“Tere kadmon ki koyi sevaa na mujh se ho saki,“I could not serve Thy Holy Feet in any way,The Urdu Verse kept on echoing in my mind again and again these days:“Ham saa na koyi hogaa daihar men badkumaar“There can be no worse a player than me in the worldAll day long, Wednesday, September 2, 1992, it had appeared as if the fever had subsided, but, as the night advanced and it was 11 pm, the fever began to rise viciously, and took us unawares. Pitaji again went into a deep sleep from the rising fever. “Talwar shaadi ki baat kar rahaa thhaa – in logon ko kaise achhee lagi hogi!“Talwar was talking about your marriage. How could these people have tolerated it?”Shri Nathji was referring to those who were inimical to the idea.“Bahut manhoos akhbaar hai! Aur itna paisa usspar kharch kar diyaa. Usse kaihna unki tabeeyat kharaab hai, praarthnaa karo sehat ke liye. Baad men chhapvaa lenge.“It is a very inauspicious newspaper. So much of money was taken and the photographs ruined. Tell him that I am not well, and that he should pray for my health. We will get the photos re-printed later.”Indeed I, too, had thought that the ruining of Shri Nathji’s photographs in the newpaper was an inauspicious occurrence.“God! Why art Thou maintaining such a stony silence!”Pitaji patted me on the back with His dear, soft hands, and said in a weak voice:“Piyaji let gaye? Kyaa kar rahe ho?“Piyaji are you sleeping? What are you doing?”O Lord, Pitaji’s weakness, His helplessness, worries me – it fills me with nameless horrors whether He will recover or not. The dreadful fever is lurking around us all the time.