But Where?
Edited by Sayam Suraj Senapati who also contributed the photograph.
(Pleasantly surprised to get this mail from Dr Hati after so many days. Must be a new story!)
Edited by Sayam Suraj Senapati who also contributed the photograph.
(Pleasantly surprised to get this mail from Dr Hati after so many days. Must be a new story!)
Mumbai, Dt .12.12.2015.
Dear Rabi!
World is so small; problems, so common. I realized that with my stay in this metropolitan city of Mumbai since a year and more. You know, it feels so lonely, away in this neighbourhood of skyscrapers. Sometimes, quite frustrating.
When I came here, Tapas helped me get a one BHK flat on rent. You remember Tapas and Pinky? This couple, some eight years back, was blessed with a son in our hospital. Remember how the grandfathers went to a high on alcohol and celebrated; till it became so disturbing that both of them had to be driven out of the premises!
When I came here, Tapas helped me get a one BHK flat on rent. You remember Tapas and Pinky? This couple, some eight years back, was blessed with a son in our hospital. Remember how the grandfathers went to a high on alcohol and celebrated; till it became so disturbing that both of them had to be driven out of the premises!
It did take some time for me to adjust here. But my attempts of socializing with Tapas and his family were futile. Although, he arranged the flat, I could never see him or Pinky; even if they were staying in the same apartment. When your bhaauja was here for a fortnight, I passed the message to Tapas but they never invited, nor tried to have a courtesy visit. I assumed it to be a metropolitan culture, where nothing ran without an event manger. I felt bad to think of the culture in this manner without knowing the essence of it. May be, they were avoiding me due to some reason. The reason for this couple, to leave Mumbai and come to our hospital for the care of their first pregnancy in Odisha, could never be economical; considering their high income. The reason must be social; The euphoria of both the grandfathers on the birth of their grandson! With time and my increasing work pressure, I stopped thinking about them.
During your bhaauja's stay, Chinama, my aged cook, opened up the apartment lives to her. She knew so much about the residents of this apartment! More than any of us, society members. Or may be it was my uninvolvement that made me so ignorant. The old lady always came with Gem, a kid who looked so decent that it amazed me to think, the help’s grandson could be so smart! But your bhaauja clarified from Chinama that he is the son of another resident of this apartment. She is their recent cook. The previous cook, as per Chinama’s version, was a young Chudhail who destroyed the family. The sahib was trapped by her and the matter went so far that sahib had to compensate heavily for the alleged pregnancy she carried and her demands to marry him. The chudhail is still in terms with sahib; even that pregnancy is now a beautiful baby girl. So, during evenings, neither the sahib nor the maimsahib stay and the kid remains under her custody. She, in a whispering voice, further added,”Another man has entered maimsahib's life and sahib knows that. Once their divorce is accepted, she is going to marry him and move away.”
So what about Gem!?
Both of them want to keep Gem but that decision is pending in court. She made her tone further low and hissed,"I don't think any of them has a real intention to keep Gem. The claim is merely superficial.”
So after your bhaauja left, Gem came with Chinama every evening and watched cartoon channels. His pain was observable or may be, my thinking was biased, knowing his background. Once, Chinama, after finishing her work, asked the boy to leave with her as usual. But he was reluctant. The boy looked up to me and asked, “Lekin hum jaenge kahan?”(But where should we go?)
Chinama explained, “His mother will be late and father will come
later, He remains scared and depressed at home. Neither does he like to go to
our jhopadpati. And the last option is to sit in the security room without a TV.”
"Then, let him stay here and watch TV."
I locked the main door to prevent him from leaving the drawing room without
my knowledge. I remained busy. When the calling bell rang, it was his mother in her most modern office outfit. The corridor was too dark to see her face properly. She took the poor kid home. But the echoes of his voice remained for a long time. "Lekin hum jaenge kahan?" Where does a single kid of a modernised ultranuclear family go in a period of distress! How can a
kid fear his home and like mine? Surprisingly, Chinama told me the very next day that maimsahib did not send the kid
with her to my house. I did not see him for a week. And suddenly today!
Today, for the first time, I saw police in this apartment. Gem had died last night in his sleep! His father was away. Gem was sick. Her mother took him to the hospital where he was treated for Asthma. After getting cured, she brought him back. Everything was normal until she discovered Gem, lying dead. The father complained the police with the suspicion of fowl play. The police could not ignore that knowing their disturbed background and the burning issue of the recent Sheena Bora murder case. The news spread like wildfire throughout the apartment where, in good days, nobody knows anyone else. When I reached the spot, it was terrible. I saw the known faces of two grandfathers mourning arms in arms, the same ones who once celebrated in our hospital and Gem was none but the same newborn whom I helped to bring to this world. It was one of the most difficult deliveries. Tapas and Pinky stood there; not as mourning parents but as complainant and accused.
I was profusely sweating, cursing myself, why did I not care to know who Gem was! Why did the boy not talk to me in Odia? Why did I not investigate the reason of Tapas avoiding me? Why the corridor light was so dim that I could not recognize the modern woman who had once come to me like a country girl for her pregnancy care! All these questions were meaningless as both the grandfathers hugged me, screaming loudly; mourning that they came all the way from village to see their grandson, dead!
Yours Dr Hati.
