Short fiction #85

We were rivals.

Doctor saab had handpicked us to be his working students. And I felt privileged to be picked by him, we had read his textbooks in college, and to be working with him was a dream come true.

Doctor saab had come home and talked to my parents.

“I will take care of her like my own daughter” he had said to my Baba and Ma, and they were both so in awe and so charmed by him, and so they agreed, when only a day before they had vehemently disagreed with sending me away.

And the truth be told working for Doctor saab was like working for family. He taught, he guided, he was patient and kind.

But firm about the goal. Firm about what had to be achieved. To ensure that the people who needed our help the most were uplifted and facilitated.

We ate with him and his wife, whom we called Didi. Their children were far away, and so his staff and students became his family. Didi made special meals for us, gave us clothes, and on some evenings we all sat in their living room, discussing the world and its vagaries.

Amit and I tried our best to emulate him. We fought to be closer to him. To be the favorite. To be praised. We were like to classmates, forever trying to come first.

When I called my mother over the weekends, ten minutes were spent praising Doctor saab, and the next ten complaining about Amit.

Doctor saab always laughed at Amit and me.

“Work together children” he said.

While competing with Amit was a minor irritant, I was truly happy. I loved my work, I enjoyed my interactions with people, and Doctor saab and Didi were always around for any support I needed.

So, when the incident happened, I think I went into a state of shock.

The fact that someone could hurt the doctor was ridiculous to us. To kill him……………………….unimaginable.

They did not even let us see him.

“Go before you are hurt too!” Didi and the rest of the staff said, as they pushed us into a local bus and sent us away.

On the way home I held Amit and cried nonstop.

When we reached the city, my father was there at the bus stop. He asked me no questions, just spirited me away.

I was inconsolable for days. I woke up with tears on my pillow. I dreamt of the Doctor again and again.

I felt as if life as I knew it had come to an end. My hard work had amounted to nothing. I felt bereft that I would never have Doctor saab looking out for me.

My parents tried to take me out, get me interested in jobs, in family, even tried match making. But something had broken in me. I wasn’t ready to be a full person again.

Then a letter arrived from Amit.

It wasn’t very long, just a document of general enquiry, but looking at it made me feel better.

I replied.

He was teaching in a college he said. In a part of town not too far away.

We decided to meet for coffee.

It was a relief seeing Amit. I had been doing nothing, just staring into space. When I saw him, I was reminded of the life of purpose that I had wanted, and that I had lived for a short time.

We talked of the past over coffee, and cutlets.

In pleasant weather we took walks and spoke of the future.

Didi was in the city now, and we went to visit her. I cried when I first met her, and Amit’s eyes were full of tears. It felt good to meet her, but we all were despondent that the plans we had made with Doctor saab were now lying in the dust.

Amit came home for dinner. And over rice and curry we debated over methodology and techniques.

My parents sighed in relief to have me back. It made them look at Amit favorably.

And at some point, I knew that Amit was the only person I could spend my life with. I think he felt the same. We didn’t have to speak it out, we just knew.

Finally, almost a year to the day we had left, we decide it was time to go back.

This time round there was no Doctor saab to convince my parents. But Amit said, “Please send Neela, I will take care of her.”

My parents being the typical parents they were said, “Get married and you can do anything you like.”

So, we did. One cool morning, first we exchanged garlands at the temple, and then signed the certificate at the registrar.

Amit wore his only white kurta that Doctor saab had given him, I wore the cotton saree that Didi had gifted me, and we became man and wife.

And we went back

In the years that followed, we worked to make Doctor saab’s dream come true. These were years filled with anxiety, sweat, blood and tears. But also love. And laughter. And kindness.

I came to love Amit, came to see him for the funny, honest, kind person he was. And I know he came to love me.

I once asked him how he came to write to me, had he missed me?

He told me he had been rifling through his bag when he came across a slip of paper with Doctor saab’s handwriting, my address. And he had felt compelled to write to me.

And in that moment, I knew that the good Doctor had been looking out for us all along.