Despite my efforts to get out of hospital early and catch my favourite seat in the bus to trivandrum,I got late..not only my favourite wndow seat,most seats of the bus were occupied and few people are standing in short of seats...Hoping to get a seat atleast,i moved to the front,and there was one seat unoccupied,near an old man,in 70s ,wearing an old torn over sized shirt..People were standing near him,but no one took that seat ,wondered why.I took the seat any way.The old man who was looking outside the window till then turned to me..Well, I knew him,a regular visitor in my opd..Doctor,are you going to trivandrum?he asked...Yes,my house is in trivandrum,going for weekend .So when will you be back?i will be back on monday..You know I want to bring my wife to you,she has pain on her both knees ..Sure bring her on monday...Doctor,why doesnt my back pain get relieved completely? It is age related,there are no rejuvenating medicines,all we can do is help with pain killers....He wasnt happy with my answer..before he shooted the next doubt,i changed the topic..where is ur place,where are u getting down?he said onthupacha..Bus started..conductor came for tickets...The old man was searching in his shirt pocket and the crumbled plastic bag stuffed with op tickets,prescriptions ,and medicine strips..again and again he was looking for money...only one crumbled lottery ticket came out of his pocket..conductor started muttering what sort of people get into bus without even money for ticket..Before he said more I gave him my hundred rupee note and said 1 ticket to trivandum and 1 to onthupacha..He gave a displeasured look and moved..I gave the ticket to the old man.He didnt say anything,but his eyes were full..He didnt speak anything after that...silently stepped out at his stop.
Next week he came to my busy opd...while i was writing his medicines,he tried to pass me a small news paper covered parcel,under the table..i was shocked,didnt realise for a moment what was happening,...i asked him what it is...he wouldnt say..i said i dont take such gifts..he said its not a gift or bribe,,he opened the parcel and showed me,it was 3 eggs..Doctor,that day u paid my bus ticket,so please keep this...before i could say something,he left the eggs on my table and left....self esteem of a frail old poor man....
Next week he came to my busy opd...while i was writing his medicines,he tried to pass me a small news paper covered parcel,under the table..i was shocked,didnt realise for a moment what was happening,...i asked him what it is...he wouldnt say..i said i dont take such gifts..he said its not a gift or bribe,,he opened the parcel and showed me,it was 3 eggs..Doctor,that day u paid my bus ticket,so please keep this...before i could say something,he left the eggs on my table and left....self esteem of a frail old poor man....
The memoir depicts a vivid portrait of an old man with high self esteem.
ReplyDeleteThe memoir does justice to the blog title 'Forme Fruste Whispers'.
Looking forward to more and more whispers.