Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Vikrant
I enjoyed many things about being a local doctor, with none of the pressures of being the best. Possibly because I was the only doctor, so there was no competition as such. But it also meant I was the only one they could rely on. Day or night. In case of an emergency. In fact, the first two months I took up the position, I barely got any sleep because my phone did not stop ringing. For all sorts of things, like a leg sprain to a common cold to a heart attack.
Then I learned to establish some boundaries, and instituted all those weekend camps to educate the residents about how to self-treat some basic illnesses and not just with grandma’s remedies (although they work in a pinch, truth be told). And now I was only called in the middle of the night for true emergencies.
Being woken up because a favorite mom-to-be went into labor was on my list of top three things.
I usually also tapped the OB-GYN from Panjim, the state capital over an hour away, in case I needed some extra help. But nothing in Neelima’s charts or medical history (another thing I was extremely insistent on) indicated a difficult labor, so I went into the hospital on my own that night at one am.
I could have woken up Anika, she was an amazing pediatric surgeon and expert…but I could not bring myself to wake her up.
She’d actually assisted my mom in making dinner while wearing a sari. The sexiest thing I’d seen in a while. And a monumental mending of the bond between my mother and her. She wasn’t drained by the cooking or the dinner, but that bond was not easy to repair, because she’d kissed me with desperation when we’d shut ourselves in our private sexual bubble after dinner.
So yeah, I wasn’t going to disturb her unless I absolutely needed it.
I also needed space for myself. Although, getting my thoughts in order in the delivery room was not recommended therapy.
But as I prepped myself for the birth and watched Neelima screaming her surprisingly clear lungs off, I couldn’t help but think.
Everything was aligning for us now. We weren’t fighting anymore. We were actually getting along. My parents were keeping their distance and their comments to themselves. And Anika seemed…mine. She was enjoying working at the hospital, her pleasure at treating the patients or filing better than me was evident.
My house was hers. The bed I could not sleep in till she came along was hers. Every inch of the home I’d built for her, was hers. So maybe I could ask her to live in it?
***
‘Vikrant,’ Neelima’s husband whispered, looking terrified at his wife’s screams. ‘Is she going to be okay?’
A particularly vicious contraction ripped Neelima’s abdomen in half. And she bowed under its weight, even with the help of Anshul, the night nurse on duty who also doubled as a midwife until this hospital became the place to go to for childbirth.
He turned fearful eyes in my direction. ‘That is painful! Do something.’
‘I’m going to.’ I squeezed his hand in calm reassurance. ‘I swear this is normal. And I’ll give her an epidural if things get too bad. But, right now, I want it to be as natural as possible.’
Neelima screamed again, hollering curses in her pain. I kept my grimace inside. That was painful. I squeezed his hand once again and shoved my hands under the water, to scrub it clean.
Then I wore my gloves by myself (a far departure from the time when a nurse stood by my side to do this for me in the bustling super-specialty hospital) and walked briskly over to my patient.
‘Alright, Neelima. I want you to look at me,’ I spoke in soothing Konkani. ‘I’m going to check and see what’s going on down there. You’re going to feel a little discomfort. But I’m going to be very quick. Okay?’
Anshul had helpfully propped Neelima’s legs on stirrups, so her legs were spread apart, but covered modestly by a sheet. Which was stained with amniotic fluid and leaking urine right now.
‘Get. It. OUT!’ She screamed at me, flecks of saliva flying on my mask.
I blinked, strangely pleased at her anger.
She wasn’t concerned about her modesty, which was a small battle won for me. And one of the reasons I was hardcore pushing for more funds. Many of the ladies in town felt uncomfortable and awkward talking to me about their sexual problems or even just about their periods because I was a man. Having a female doctor would make them open up and keep them safer and healthier in the long run.
That female doctor could be Anika…
The sly thought popped up. I pushed it aside when Neelima let out a bloodcurdling yell.
I quickly sat down on the chair and got down to business. Because her contractions were seconds apart, which meant her time was close.
But the thought remained in my head, a weed of hope I could not uproot.
***
Forty-five minutes later, I watched as Anshul dunked the cutest baby in a small warm tub of water for a second and his wails began. Then, his little hands and legs started kicking. I was almost finished stitching Neelima up as gently as possibly after scooping all the mess out, including the placenta.
Looking at her exhausted, golden face I felt a reflecting warm glow in my chest. Of pride. Of almost brotherly love.
‘Thank you,’ she whispered brokenly, tears running down her hair. ‘Thank you, Vikrant.’
I nodded around the lump in my throat.
‘Why don’t you clean up and take off, Vikrant?’ Anshul asked me quietly. ‘It’s been a long night for you. And you need to be back tomorrow to check on the baby and mommy.’
“I don’t want to leave you alone with all the clean up.” My body was aching like a fucking bitch, because I crouched from the waist up for the last forty-five minutes. And I needed a minute to catch my breath.
She waved her hand at the mess the miracle of childbirth left. ‘I’m going to wake up Sulekha Kaki and ask her to come in with a hot pot of adrak chai for me. And we’ll get it done before you come back.’
***
I nodded. Made a mental note to give the women a personal bonus for being absolute professionals.
Then I washed up and discarded the gloves and gown and mask in the medical disposal bin. It was almost full, which meant giving the company that dealt with the waste disposal a call and begging them to come pick it up. Just another line item on my to-do list.
Anika would be excellent at organizing all this shit…
I mulled over the thought all the drive home. Sneaked inside with the key, hoping to wake no one up. Luckily, everyone in my family was a heavy sleeper and Anika, the light sleeper, because of being constantly on call, was upstairs. I jogged up the stairs without changing into my house shoes.
The door creaked a little when I opened it, but it did not wake her up. She had slept like the dead this week. Same as me, when I was wrapped up around her.
And I was absolutely looking forward to doing it again tonight. Well, to dawn. I thought with a rare burst of humor.
I untucked my shirt from the waistband and was about to unbutton my pants when I heard a buzzing sound. I frowned. My phone was turned off, because I really did need at least ninety minutes of sleep after the night I had.
It had to be Anika’s phone.
I spied it on the nightstand where it was vibrating madly. I was going to turn it off when I saw the caller ID – Dad.
***
Vivek Chakraborty held me in contempt. The few times I’d met him this was the only emotion I felt from him. Contempt. He did not hate me. I was not even worthy of his hate. He just looked down on me – a lowly, small-town doctor with no prospects and no reputation to protect or grow.
I was the last man he’d choose for his daughter and we both knew it.
There was no earthly reason for me to answer this call. I could let it go unanswered.
But Anika was in my life again. In my bed. And I have never wanted anyone else as my family. Which meant, I had to do this. I had to reach out and build this bridge.
Like a man possessed, I pressed answer on the call and said, “Hello, Vivek Sir. It’s Vikrant here. Your daughter is sleeping but I can take a message if it is something urgent.”
“What the fuck?” Vivek exploded. “Is that you, Vikrant?”
I clenched my fist around my stethoscope. The rubber digging into my palms. “Yes, it’s me, Vikrant. Your daughter’s husband.”
“ My daughter is not your wife, Vikrant,” Vivek began impatiently.
My heart sank under the casual dismissal and contempt dripping from my father-in-law’s words. Made all the worse because they were all true. Every single one of them.
And the weed of hope I’d nursed through this long night dissipated like dandelion fluff in a rough wind as I continued listening to the man talk his daughter up and make me feel two inches tall.