My last fight will be with god himself - Baba Bholanath , she says. I will fight this fight until the last drop of blood is shed. She has been just come out of a seven-day amorone onoshone (fast unto death). For casual labor at the District Hospital - called special attendants. Who are hired by the patient's family, but operate out of hospital premises, supplementing the services of government nurses. For their regularisation is her lifelong crusade. She has been one herself, and was made permanent towards the end of her tenure. Political parties, with whom she has campaigned all her life, are now turning their backs. Reporters covered her dharna, interviewed her all of last week. And no channel, no newspaper spoke of it. It was a fast of waste. An invisible fast. She now waits only to hear from god that he exists in the time of dystopia. Her last and only worthwhile battle.