Chapter 5
— RITU —
Ritu grabbed her bags — tote, gym bag with change of clothes that she had not had the time to change into after her procedures, a bag of lunch packed from Maya’s house and… she was forgetting something.
“Shit! Fuck…” She thumped on the Uber’s body and stopped it, opening the door and reaching inside for her bag of sanitized Crocs.
She ran inside the heritage gate of the clinic, stopping to sign the register.
The watchman looked at her, knew that she visited this place thrice a week, and gave a chin nod, filling in the register for her.
Ritu grinned, running to catch the lift that was making that ding-dong-ding-ding-ding symphony.
The old woman going up held the grille for her.
“Thank you.”
Mumbai people never ceased to amaze her.
Ritu finally found a moment to look at herself in the hazy mirror of the lift.
Her OT bandana cap was still on, hiding her bun.
Her wintergreen scrubs looked tired after just 4 hours of procedures, but they smelled clean, thank god.
She hoped patients weren’t waiting for her. She would get a minute to change.
They reached her floor, and the old lady held the grille open for her.
“Thank you, again.”
Ritu ran, speed walking down the alley and pushing the door of the clinic open with her back, hands full. And the silence that greeted her was heaven.
“Phew!” She sighed, looking at Anu Madam sitting behind her desk. The luxurious sitting room was blessedly empty. “Did I come here on the wrong day?”
“No,” Anu Madam smiled. “The intern from Cath Lab called to inform you were running late. I took the liberty of pushing most of your morning appointments to noon.”
“Thank you! Thank you! You are a savi…” her words trailed off as a familiar figure emerged from the restroom alley.
Cobalt blue silk shirt, cream pants fitted to his waist, reports under his arm.
Ritu trailed her eyes up, and his bored expression was just as bored.
But. He was looking at her again like he had that first time.
Giving her that condescending once-over. She tautened.
That day she had worn a loose tunic that hid most of her heavy hips. Today… the scrubs were comfortable but traced her shape more than what she preferred for OPD consultations.
She cleared her throat. And Nilay Patel’s eyes snapped up to hers.
“Good morning,” she snapped quietly.
“Good morning, Doctor.” His response was civil. Respectful. Just as he had promised last week.
“Mr. Patel was the only appointment I couldn’t push. He was ready to wait,” Anu Madam informed unhelpfully.
“Thank you, Anu Madam. Come in,” she nodded to Nilay Patel.
————————————————————
Ritu entered the office that was already chilled with the AC on and lights bright. She set her bags on the platform behind her desk.
“Sit.” “You look like you…”
“I what?” She turned, reaching for her cap and pulling it off. Say something insulting and see what I do, she glared at him.
“Like you can do with a breather,” he managed.
She closed her mouth.
“Ok,” she took a deep breath, setting her cap down.
Ritu reached for her phone and opened the timer.
“You have one minute. Say whatever cutting, insulting nonsense you want to say. I will not judge or take it at face value. After which, I will say what I want for one minute. And then we will behave professionally.”
His bored, morose face split into an amused frown.
“Don’t look condescendingly at me. You have a minute.” She set the phone face up on the desk and hit start.
“Are you ok, Doctor?”
“Fifty-five seconds now.”
“I can come back later if…”
“Dare you start pretending to be sane and turn this on me.”
A smirk curled his cruel mouth. It didn’t look cruel when he did that with it.
“I have nothing cutting to say today.”
“I saw you give me those looks outside.”
“What looks?”
“Like you think I am the dirt under your toenail.”
“But you aren’t.”
“I know I am not. I said you thought it.”
“Oh, right. Ok. I did not think it then.”
“Don’t hold back. I don’t want any disturbance in my consultation. 40 seconds now.”
A chuckle burst out of his mouth. It looked even more human now.
“Be careful of the seconds you are losing. If you say anything obnoxious during the consultation, I will show you the door.”
“I know where the door is,” he pointed behind his back.
“You can make those step-sisterly faces when staring at somebody but don’t have the words to back it?”
“Step-sisterly?”
“You know what I mean.”
His eyes went down to her waist.
“Up, up,” she commanded. And they whizzed up.
Ritu raised her eyebrows at him — “Words.”
“I…”
“Last two seconds.”
His mouth fell shut.
“And one. Done. Your time’s…”
“Doctor, you…”
“Up, I said. Your time is up. Now quiet,” she raised her finger at him in warning. “It’s my turn to…”
“Doctor, you are wearing your pants inside out.”
Ritu froze.
His hooded eyes widened, half-amused, half-scared. “I wasn’t staring at anything else… I was trying to figure out how to inform you about it.”
She didn’t want to. She didn’t want to in front of him.
But what if he was messing with her to get one up?
Ritu glanced down at herself, and balked inside.
The fine stitch-lines of the lengths of her scrub pants were visible down the sides of her thighs.
Fuck! How many procedures had she performed like this?
“Sit,” she ordered him. “I will be back.”
Without looking back at him to see if he had followed her direction, Ritu walked into the bathroom and quietly shut the door.
————————————————————
When she emerged, he was sitting. His reports were on the desk in front of him. He did not look like he was going to say anything cutting, insulting, obnoxious or even teasing. Which was good. She could forget it happened and move on.
“Let’s start with your BP today,” she began to pull up the machine pole. “How have you been feeling, Mr. Patel?”
“Where is your one minute?”
“Excuse me?”
“You said you will take one minute to say whatever you want to me.”
Ritu glared at him.
“Fair is fair,” he pointed out.
“I have nothing cutting to say today.”
“You cannot say what I said!”
“I can say whatever I want to say,” she grabbed the cuff, and he began to roll his shirt sleeve. She noticed he didn’t wear cufflinks today, only a plain buttoned cuff. Was it for his day’s high street fashion or to be an easier patient?
He remained silent as she plugged the stethoscope into her ears and started pumping the machine.
“Any pain, pressure, discomfort this week?” She asked, daring him with her eyes to make a joke.
“No,” he replied civilly. “In fact, I have been feeling good. Energy is back.”
“And the diet?” She asked, noting the upper value. 120. “I see you are eating better.”
“The stethoscope whispered to you?” He smirked. Not insultingly. Naughtily. He could be something other than snobbish? This was a first.
“Your cheeks did,” Ritu noted the next reading. 80. Perfect. She tugged the velcro of the cuff, slinging the stethoscope around her neck. “120/80. Good. What have your evening readings been like?”
“Mostly 130/80. On Sunday, it was 120/80 even at night.”
“You were home and relaxing.”
“How do you know?”
“The cameras in your house.” She pushed the pole back.
“Now you are being sarcastic.”
She went and sat down on her chair — “You are right, I shouldn’t have. I meant to say…”
“I didn’t say I mind. Your brand of humour is new and fresh coming from a…”
“A woman? Wow, god forbid they laugh?”
“I meant a doctor in such a serious niche.”
Ritu shut her eyes, then nodded. She reached for his reports and his GP’s covering letter, detailing his week’s progress.
Things looked good. Really good. His cheeks were fuller, in his own words his energy was up, and his BP was under control.
He was also behaving civilly. Maybe his bear-on-steroids mood had been a side effect of his angina episode.
“Doctor, I need to fly out to Patan this weekend for a shoot. For a day.”
“No harm in flying, but keep a sorbitrate handy. In case of discomfort, pop it under your tongue. Don’t strain yourself there. Are you going alone?”
“A few of my team members will be travelling with me.”
Ritu glanced up from his reports. “Do they know about your condition?”
“I don’t have a condition.”
She bit her tongue. The bear was back on steroids.
“I mean…” he corrected. “They don’t. Nobody does except you and Dr. Rajiv. I run a global enterprise, not to mention live under regular media scrutiny. I am not followed or anything but news like this, if it leaks, is not a good look for me.”
“Any other reason?”
“No.”
He was too quick in that retort. Ritu did not probe. It was none of her business.
“I would suggest informing one of your team members at the least. It would help in case there is an emergency.”
“But you just said my BP was good. The other reports are good too, right? Rajiv thought so too.”
“They are. That is why I am not opposed to you travelling. But flying can alter pressure. That is why I suggest informing one of your team members.”
“Ok.”
“And we can space out your next appointment by a fortnight now. Dr. Shravan may also be back by then…”
“I would like to follow up weekly.”
“Things look better, Mr. Patel. Relax. You don’t need to follow up next week…”
“I want to. Until this is done and over with, I want to.”
He sounded so resolute that she could do nothing but nod. If he was ready to pay a bomb for every appointment to this uber luxurious clinic, who was she to say no?
“Alright. Your markers look like they are on the mend. Try to relax some more. Your resting heart rate is still not where I would prefer it. Try daily meditation, music, walks on the sand, sitting by the sea…”
He made a face. She had noticed he made them often. For a fashion designer… couturier, who behaved like a demigod asshole, he did have some toddler tendencies that he himself didn’t seem aware of.
“Mr. Patel, these may seem like hard lifestyle changes for people like you…”
“What do you mean people like me?”
“Look, I don’t know what your life is like.
But from what little I have seen and heard until now, it’s a world of glamour and fashion shows and shoots.
Making time for yourself, in a quiet room or by the sea, by yourself, may seem like a waste and a little too much.
But if only you push yourself every day for eight days to do it, build a habit, you will see the benefits sooner rather than later. ”
“You think sitting in front of the sea will cure me?”
“I am not saying it will cure you,” Ritu felt laughter bubble out of her mouth. “But it will surely help you reach there faster.”
“I live by Juhu Beach.”
“That’s perfect. How have you lived by the beach and never done this?”
“I gym.”
“No intense gymming for the foreseeable future. Walks, strolls, and preferably barefoot on the sand.” She started to write down his prescription — the next set of tests she needed after a fortnight and her recommendations for lifestyle changes.
“You are enjoying writing my sentence.”
“If I had the time to bear this sentence, I would happily swap it.”
“Come then.”
Ritu looked up.
“The sentence is all yours to share.”
“No, thank you…”
“See? Good to write it for your patients, not to endure it yourself.”
Ritu capped her pen and passed his reports back — “My buttons are not pushed so easily.”
He accepted the reports with a smile. A soft, fun, shockingly refreshing smile. For a man like him, it was downright delicate and childlike.
“Thank you, Doctor,” he rose to his feet, tucking his reports under his arm.
Not a demigod anymore. A human. A man. “And I have never looked at you thinking you are dirt under my toenail. I am a man of cloth and cuts. I look at someone and think what could make them look even better, couture-wise. Now I figure it may have looked insulting from your side. That was never my intention, not today, and not that first time.”
She stared up at him, speechless.
“I live beside SoHo House on Juhu Beach and plan to start your sentence this evening at 6.” He held her prescription up and turned around — leaving her office, and that invitation.