Doctor Aunty: (English)
Short Story; Author: Deepak Budki
Translator: J L Bhat
I came across Doctor Aunty by sheer chance. My
friend’s sister Lalita was in Srinagar undergoing B.Ed training and I was her
local guardian. Kamla Devi and her daughter had come from Delhi about a week
ago and were staying with Lalita to escape the scorching heat of the plains. They
were keen to visit famous tourist spots in and around Srinagar.
Aunty, a simple, medium-sized affable lady,
dressed in an ordinary cotton saree, looked an embodiment of love, kindness, and
compassion. On seeing her nobody could imagine that she was a very successful
Gynecologist in Delhi.
During my very first meeting with her, I was
mesmerized by her personality and felt as if my mother, who had left me long
ago when I was just twelve years old, had been reincarnated in her form. My emotional
bond with the mother unwittingly brought me close to her daughter as well. I
left all my personal engagements and accompanied them to many easily accessible
tourist places in the valley as a professional guide besides helping them
purchase some local handicrafts. After a few days, I reached Lalita's residence
to see them off as they were leaving for Delhi early next morning.
As soon as Kamla Devi saw me, she couldn't resist
expressing her gratitude, “Son, you have made us so grateful that I find no
words to express my thanks to you.”
“Aunty, there is no need to express your
thankfulness. You are like my mother and as a dutiful son it was my duty.” I
replied with great humility.
Her daughter Sarita was looking askance at me as
if saying, “Mama, why should you be thankful to him? He has charmed your
daughter and with his cunning smile stolen her heart forever. How does it
matter if he looked after us for a few days.”
I did not pay much heed to Sarita except to exchange a few smiles once in a while. Meanwhile, Lalita came into the room with hot
tea poured into glass tumblers and some snacks, which she kept on the table and
she sat in one of the chairs. Aunty again addressed me, “Son, tomorrow
morning we are proceeding to Katra directly from this place. We intend to have a darshan of Mata Vaishno Devi on our way back. Have you ever been to Mata's
durbar?"
“No Aunty, I have not ventured out of the valley
more than twice. Once visited Jammu with my parents at the age of seven and
spent the whole winter there. The second time visited Ooty down south while on a botanical tour with my department at Kashmir University.”
“Then I suggest you also accompany us to Mata
Vaishno Devi to have her darshan. It will do a lot of good for you.”
For a few moments, I pondered over it and
hesitated because I am a non-believer and do not frequent temples and other
places of worship. However, I was tempted to have their company for some more
days and therefore agreed without further thinking over it.
Aunty had earlier obliged me by visiting our
house without any invitation. She had stayed at our place for several hours and
gelled with everyone, young and old. Members of my family were all in praise of
her. There she chanced to examine my ailing aunt, my father's sister to be
exact, who was suffering from gastroenteritis for a long. After examining her
thoroughly she gave some instructions and also prescribed a few medicines.
The next day before sunrise I hung my backpack on my
shoulders and accompanied them to Katra. During the journey lot of informality
had grown between us and I had almost become a member of their family.
On my return to Srinagar, I realized that Aunty
had cast a spell on me, though my love for her daughter had already spread its
roots and become very strong. We exchanged letters and sometimes talked on the telephone yet most of the time Aunty dominated my thoughts compared to her
daughter.
After some time I started thinking seriously
about my relationship with Sarita and did not in any way find myself suitable
for her. She was the only daughter of her adopted parents, a student of
medicine in a reputed college in Delhi while I was earning just two hundred
rupees per month though well qualified and carried a designation of an
Assistant Manager in a retail chain of handicrafts.
I had been thinking seriously of leaving my
current job because it didn’t fulfil my aspirations, not only due to financial
considerations but for emotional stability as well. Ultimately after a few
months, I took the unpleasant decision to resign from my present job and seek better prospects in Delhi.
After reaching Delhi, I started searching for
Aunty's residence. Being a newcomer in the metropolis, it was a lot of hassle
to track her address but finally, I succeeded. Her clinic was right on the roadside
near the Moti Nagar bus stand in Delhi.
Outside the clinic hung a signboard –'Dr Kamla Devi, Gynecologist'.
Behind the clinic and adjacent to it was her house, rather a continuation of
the building sheltering the clinic, and Aunty lived there along with her sister
and brother both younger than her. All of them were unmarried. Sarita was, in fact, the daughter of Kamla Devi's elder brother and she had adopted her when she was a
child.
I gently knocked at the door and a voice answered
from inside, "Who is it?".
"It is me, Aunty" I responded. The door
flung open and I got in. Kamla Aunty was examining a patient and on seeing me
she felt ecstatic and said, “Son, when have you come?”
“Aunty, I reached Delhi yesterday. Actually, I was
finding myself maladjusted to my job there, it wasn't to my taste at all so I
left it. I have decided to seek a job here in Delhi.”
“You sit inside; I’ll join you within a few
minutes.”
I went into the adjoining drawing room and sat on
the sofa. Sarita probably heard my voice and came running from her bedroom and
sat in front of me. She was excited to see me and began asking me about my
welfare. Meanwhile, both the brother and sister of Kamla Aunty also entered the room
and Sarita introduced them to me.
“Surrinder, she is Sharda Aunty, younger sister
of Mom, a dental surgeon by profession while he is the younger brother of Mama,
Amarnath uncle.”
I stood up and said hand-folded Namaskar to both.
They soon walked away after exchanging pleasantries, one went to the market to
get some snacks and the other went to the kitchen perhaps, leaving us again
free to talk. We got so busy conversing
with each other that we did not notice when Aunty had come out from her clinic
and walked straight into the kitchen. She laid out the dining table with tea
and snacks and turned to me with love and affection, “Surrinder, did I hear it
right that you have left your job? Why did you take such a hasty decision? You
could have come here on leave, looked for a desirable job, and then resigned.”
"Aunty, I was fed up with my job. There was
nothing except deceit, plunder and corruption in our dealings. I felt deeply
anguished and always looked for an opportunity to resign.”
“All right, what is done is done. I wish some
good comes out of it. Maybe there’s a bright future waiting for you!” After a
brief pause, she enquired again, “Have you any arrangements for your stay here?”
“Yes Aunty, that’s no problem. I’m staying with
my friend in his flat.”
While in Delhi I would meet Sarita regularly
after college hours. It was she who revealed that she was not the real daughter
of Doctor Kamla Devi. She was actually the daughter of her elder brother, who
was the owner of a cotton mill in Coimbatore. Kamla Devi adopted her at the age
of five after migrating to India. She had brought her up with great care and
affection. After facing the nightmare of partition, Kamla Devi, Amarnath and
their younger sister Sharda Devi decided to stay unmarried and live
together in Delhi. Sarita was a darling of them all. As a child, they would
swing her in their arms for hours on end. After Sarita started living in her
college hostel the house looked desolate and cheerless though she never failed
to come home on weekends to be with them.
One day Doctor Aunty related the full story of
her miseries during the partition. They had lived in Lahore city and when the
conditions worsened, their elder brother left with his family at the first
available opportunity and took refuge in Coimbatore but Kamla Devi, Amarnath
and Sharda Devi insisted to stay back. No sooner than they realized their lives were
at risk, they too packed up their bag and baggage. Eventually, they were rescued
by an army Major who drove them across the border in his army jeep and left
them in a refugee camp in Delhi. Subsequently, they were allotted a small house
nearby which had been vacated by an emigrant family. Kamla Devi converted part
of the house into her clinic where she started practice as a doctor. As days
passed by, she gained a good reputation as a doctor and succeeded substantially in
restoring the lost glory of her past, nevertheless unable to forget the bruises
that were inflicted on her and the family during those dark days of partition.
She handled the affairs of the household all by herself. Strangely Doctor Aunty
did not run into any emotional hiccups or shed any tears while relating the
sordid events of her past. She maintained calm as was visible from her exterior
but I could easily dive through the inner turbulence that she was passing all
through. Who knows how many choicest dreams of hers may have been shattered and
how many castles she may have built must have crashed during those days? She
could not speak of them. It was not even expected of her. Her failed loves, her
unaccomplished ambitions and her aborted dreams!
Probably as a consequence of the human misery they
had witnessed, all three decided not to get married but in order to fill
the vacuum in their lives Kamla Devi adopted little Sarita as her daughter and
brought her up with great care and affection. It was apparent that Dr Kamla
Devi was the main active earning member of the family. Besides sufficient
earnings from her profession that supported the entire family, she used to work
in the kitchen and carry out all other household chores single-handedly. Her
sister was excessively bulky and used to get easily fatigued and exhausted with
a little work. Brother Amarnath was crafty and clever. He lived a life of
parasite on his sister. Amarnath did not contribute in any manner to the
household but had a glib tongue and gave the impression as if everything was
handled by him.
Looking at her simplicity, sincerity, sacrifice
and self-restraint I once casually asked her while drinking coffee in the
dining room, “Aunty, you have reached a stage of life where you own almost
everything that one aspires for---wealth, reputation and other comforts of
life. Sarita is also going to become a doctor in a year or so. Your
responsibility towards her is as good as over. Then why do you charge fees to
poor patients? You could at least give free consultations to the poor!
Dr Kamla Devi smiled lightheartedly and
answered, “You are right, son! I’ve everything that I wanted and now don't look
for anything more but the world has changed a lot ever since. In the olden days, people would not care for minor ailments such as cough, cold and temperatures
due to weather changes but now affluence has changed the attitude of people.
They seek a doctor’s advice even for an ordinary sneeze and are ready to pay any
amount of fee. People go to specialists even when it may not be necessary. It
is my goodwill and reputation that stands by me otherwise there are tens of
highly qualified gynaecologists around in this area. If I don’t charge for
consultation, people with minor ailments will throng to my clinic day and
night. Thus in order to keep such patients at bay, I charge fees. Secondly,
nowadays the amount of fee charged determines the standard of the doctor. So I
have to balance out between philanthropy and personal tag. Still, my fee remains
by far the lowest compared to the market rate in this field. Even then patients
sometimes knock at my door at midnight. Some I avoid but in emergency cases, I
am compelled to examine patients at their homes at odd hours. If I give free
consultations I’ll have to run around nonstop and remain out of my home all the
time. A reasonable fee prevents ordinary patients and only serious ones come seeking
my advice at night.”
The uncle who was sitting on the other side of the dining
table and spreading butter on his slice of bread interjected sullenly,
“Surrinder, You do not know how much we doctors have to suffer in life; we
neither enjoy a proper sleep at night nor feel comfortable during the day.”
Sarita glanced at me with a mischievous smile as
if asking, "Since when has uncle become a doctor?" He always lived on
the earnings of his elder sister, never ever earned a rupee himself yet talked
authoritatively. I understood the language of her eyes, what she wanted to
convey and reciprocated with a satirical smile but chose to be silent.
After many days I was witness to one more
interesting event. It was a Saturday afternoon and I reached their house at
about 4 pm. Sat as usual in the drawing room. Amarnath uncle and Sharda Aunty
were not at home so there was a saturnine silence in the house. Sarita also had
not yet turned up on her weekend visit. Dr Kamla Devi was examining a young
spinster in the adjoining clinic. The conversation between the two was quite
audible in the drawing room where I was sitting alone.
“Doctor, I am facing a big fall in my life. I am
pregnant and it is probably the second month. My boyfriend took advantage of my
progressive outlook in life. I was free with him and never stopped him at any
point but then he ditched me once he heard about the pregnancy. Now I have no
alternative but to terminate the pregnancy. Doctor, I shall be ever obliged if
you kindly abort my unwanted pregnancy. I am ready to pay as much as you
demand.”
“Sorry, I am extremely sorry for not accepting
your request. I don't carry out abortions. You have knocked at the wrong door.”
“Aunty, my mother is a very big fan of yours. I
have always heard her singing paeans to you. She says you are a divine
incarnate. I know I have committed a big blunder before my marriage. Only you
can save me from this calamity. I’ve not disclosed it at my home even. In that
case, I won’t be able to show my face to anyone. I am sure that boy is going to
disown me now," the girl kept crying while speaking.
“My daughter, I do not undertake medical
termination of pregnancy. As repentance, you have accepted your misdeed which
is more than enough under the circumstances. But I’ve some personal principles
and limitations which I shall not alter under any circumstances. I haven't done
this job all my life, not even during those days when hundreds of helpless
abducted girls used to make a beeline outside my clinic with their protruding
bellies. I’m sorry, you must go now.”
The girl got up and left with a very heavy heart.
Sad about what had happened, Dr Kamla Devi entered the drawing room and threw
herself on the sofa. She expressed mixed feelings of sorrow and anger. For the
first time, I observed such a severe strain on her face.
“See this little girl, she is not yet out of
school and is carrying a baby in her venter. Shocking isn't it! Look at her
audacity! She is offering me money as if everything can be purchased with it!”
It was for the first time that Doctor Aunty was
giving vent to her professional conflict in her home and that too in my
presence. I was keenly watching the ups and downs of her face. In her consternation
that she was going through she even forgot to ask me whether I wanted something
to drink or eat after having travelled so long. Still, I mustered enough courage
and asked her, “Aunty, I think she deserved sympathy. There should have been no
hitch in solving her problem. To err is human! Everybody commits mistakes. Who
would she approach except a doctor? And then she was ready to pay the requisite
fees.”
I was apprehensive that Kamla Devi would flare upon hearing my suggestions and maybe I would earn some abuses as well but
nothing of the sort happened. In a while, her usual soft mood was restored and
she said to me, “Son, money is not everything in life. If I had wished I would
have earned lakhs of rupees from such nefarious activities. Plenty of
opportunities came my way but my inner conscience never allowed me to indulge
in such things. As per my understanding, I have come to this life - Manushya
Janma - to save human lives and not to kill them in cold blood. Only Almighty
Lord has a right to take any life, none else. To me terminating pregnancy
unless warranted for health reasons of mother or foetus is the biggest crime
and no other crime is worse than that.”
“But, Aunty, the majority of doctors do it. Why
doesn't s their conscience prick them? Will they all go to hell?”
“That is their personal thinking. Whether they
will go to Swarga or Naraka, only God knows. I cannot be their conscience
keeper. In my opinion, abortion should be done only when the life of the mother
or the child is in danger and also within the prescribed time period when the
woman has just conceived and the foetus has not taken the shape of a baby,
otherwise I consider it nothing less than a murder.”
“I fully agree with you, Aunty. I am sorry if I
offended you. Actually, I was trying to put forward the compulsions of that
abused girl. Okay, let us leave the topic and talk about something pleasant.”
“Son, I have been practising as a doctor for the last
thirty years. Let me share with you the moment when I got the utmost joy of my
life in this profession. One day, long ago, a couple around 35 years of age
came to my clinic for consultation. They had been married for almost ten years
but did not have the joy of having a child. They had knocked at the doors of
many known doctors but with no success. They also visited a number of saints
and sadhus to get their blessings. Nothing worked. At last, they came to me by
chance with the hope that I might be able to help them. I examined the woman
thoroughly and suggested douching once more. I performed the D&C and told her
to keep coming every third day for continuous monitoring. Those very days, as
luck would have it, I had received a few ring-shaped vaginal dilators from
Japan as samples which helped in preventing any constrictions in the vagina that
could impede the flow of seminal fluid. I inserted them and prayed to God to help the
childless lady. God did listen to my prayers. Exactly after twenty days, I gave
them the good news that she had conceived and needed to take the utmost care now.
She felt on top of the world and after nine months delivered a pretty baby. I
too felt highly jubilant and satisfied. That was really the happiest day of my
life as I had performed a miracle almost with the blessings of my Lord. I felt
the presence of God everywhere around to guide and help me.”
On hearing the story of her achievement and
success, I admired her sincerity, hard work and veracity. Meanwhile, Sarita had
also come from her college and joined us and all of us gleamed with joy.
Many years passed by. The circumstances took such a turn that
Sarita could not become my life partner. She married a doctor and my contact
with the family snapped.
After about a decade I was posted again in Delhi
and had a chance to talk with Sarita on the phone. She informed me that Dr Kamla Devi
had passed away a few years back. I was shocked and severely dismayed. Without wasting much time I reached their
Moti Nagar residence to express my condolences. The clinic was closed and
enveloped in a strange air of grief.
I knocked on the door several times without any
response. At last, someone called from inside, “Who is there?” I recognized the
voice and replied, “Uncle, I am Surrinder, please open the door.”
He opened the door with a lot of difficulties and
spoke out immediately, “Surrinder, it is not the same Delhi now. Everything has
changed. It has become a city of crime and rape. Old people who are found alone
are targeted day in and day out." He ushered me into the adjoining drawing room, sat on the sofa, held his breath for a while and then continued,
"Your Aunty has left us long ago. Sarita also does not visit us after her
death. Both of us are scared to allow strangers into the house. Only our maidservant
comes in from the back door. The shutters of the clinic remain closed permanently.
Thank God, I recognized your voice and opened the gate otherwise you would have had to wait for a long time. Life has changed full circle since our sister left.”
I followed Uncle through the clinic and sat
on the sofa opposite him. The total atmosphere was gloomy. It appeared that this house had not been
cleaned for ages. Everything was covered with a thick layer of dust. In the
meantime Sharda Aunty walked in, with the help of crutches, writhing in pain
and sat on the sofa next to her brother.
Both of them began relating their woes in detail.
Tears flowed down their cheeks and choked their voice time and again. This was
the same house where I had learned lessons about love, empathy, virtue and the art of
living. Today the same house was enveloped in darkness, gloom and helplessness.
It appeared the soul of the house had evaporated leaving behind complete
desolation and suffering.
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