by Sudha Murty
When Dr Kamala had gone to the income tax office, the inspecting officer Louis had felt awkward. His daughter Mary had been Dr Kamala’s student and had great regard for her. Softly, he had told Dr Kamala, ‘Madam, your reputation precedes you. My daughter was your student.’
Then he had got some coffee for her. After the verification, Louis had said, ‘Madam, please know that we’re only junior officers.’
Dr Kamala had asked him, ‘Can you please tell me who sent you instructions to audit me?’
‘Madam, please don’t ask me that. Here, even the walls have ears. I hope you understand.’
When she had returned to the hospital, she had met Lata who had smiled and innocently asked her, ‘Madam, you’re looking exhausted. Have you come to work just now? Are you unwell? Do you want to go home?’
Dr Kamala had replied, ‘I don’t harass others just because I have power.’
Lata could not face Dr Kamala after that. She had looked at the floor and walked away. Afterwards, she had behaved as if nothing had happened.
Though Dr Kamala had given her only a week’s vacation, Lata had sent a medical certificate of ill health through her father and stayed six weeks in Singapore for a family holiday. She had brought gifts from Singapore and given them to the people who would be of use to her in the hospital. That included the lower staff such as clerks and the cleaning ladies. She wanted to keep them happy so they would not complain about her long vacation or her laziness. Dr Kamala knew all this but had been forced to keep quiet because she had no support from the hospital.
She thought, ‘How can Sanjay understand all this? It’s difficult to explain. Twenty-five years ago, I was just like Sanjay—contented with work and believing in idealism. Life has taught me big lessons. If a person is intelligent and an idealist, then he will be a good teacher. And if a man is intelligent and selfish, then he can go to any extent to get money. In the end, it is a personal choice about how closely we follow our own principles.’
Sanjay was unaware of what was going on in Dr Kamala’s mind. He was thinking about the sponsorship and how he could get it. He wanted Dr Kamala to recommend him to any drug company. Dr Kamala knew what he was thinking. She also knew that no drug company would sponsor Sanjay because now, nobody would listen to her. All the company medical representatives were aware of her impending retirement and were concentrating on pleasing the next head of the department, Dr Saroja.
Instead of talking about sponsorship through drug companies, Dr Kamala said, ‘Our Health minister is the chairman of the WHO fund in our state. Why don’t you go and meet him? I can put in a word for you.’
Sanjay nodded. He thought he should try that route too.
A few days after Dr Kamala’s suggestion, Sanjay decided to go to the Health Secretariat. He entered the building. It was a sultry afternoon and Sanjay was sweating despite the numerous fans around. There were people standing in front of the Health minister’s personal assistant. Others were standing in the hallway, smoking and talking. Everybody seemed to have a problem. Some wanted a transfer while others wanted a promotion. Sanjay felt lost. It was the first time that he had entered a minister’s office asking for help.
Hesitantly, Sanjay went and stood in front of the PA. The PA looked at him but did not say anything. Even though there was an empty chair in front of him, he did not tell Sanjay to sit down. He was talking on his cell phone and completely ignored Sanjay. Finally, the call ended. Still standing, Sanjay greeted the PA with a namaskara. The PA did not reciprocate. ‘What do you want?’ he asked directly.
Sanjay showed his file to the PA. The PA said to himself, ‘People greet me only when they have work—otherwise they don’t even recognize me. Why should I be nice to them?’
He was rude. ‘Give me one reason why the government should sponsor you. You must think that the government is a bottomless treasury. You should first understand the rules of the sponsorship and then come here. You’re wasting my time.’
‘I’m not asking for funds from the government. I’m asking for help from the WHO funds.’
The PA became even more angry. ‘Who gave you the information about those funds? Bring that person here. Even if I accept that they exist, why should they be spent on you? There are people more senior to you. We must give them an opportunity too.’
‘May I meet the Health minister?’
‘If you want to meet him for this reason, then …’
Before the PA could finish his sentence, his phone rang again. The PA’s tone became pleasant and he started speaking politely into the receiver. ‘Brother, please don’t misunderstand me. I have told our Health minister already. She is very strict. When she is in a good mood, I will give her the file …’
The conversation continued and the PA picked up the cordless phone and went to the hallway so that he could speak in private. Sanjay did not know what to do.
Meanwhile, a man had been observing him. He walked over to Sanjay now and greeted him. Sanjay looked at him. He was around thirty-five, with a slightly chubby face, and was wearing plain and simple clothes. Sanjay did not know him. The man started chatting. ‘You may not know my name, Doctor. My wife was your patient. When we came to your hospital, Dr Kamala Amma was on vacation. So you operated on my wife and looked after her very well. You didn’t even ask us for money. We sent you fruits and flowers to convey our gratitude. But you didn’t accept those either.’
Sanjay could not remember him. Many patients came to a government hospital and it was difficult to recall all their names. Had the man told him what kind of an operation it was, Sanjay may have remembered his wife. He did not take gifts for his services, even if they were fruits and flowers. Sanjay said, ‘I’m sorry, I still don’t recognize you. What’s your name?’
‘My name is Chikananjappa and my wife’s name is Kempamma.’
Chikananjappa smiled, showing his paan-stained, red teeth. He asked, ‘Doctor, why’re you here?’
Sanjay explained the situation to him and showed him the file. Chikananjappa said, ‘Doctor, I’m a clerk—but let’s not talk here. Everybody is listening to us. Come to Chalukya Hotel at 5.30 p.m. We’ll chat over a cup of tea.’
Without saying anything more, Chikananjappa walked away.
Shortly, the PA came back. Many people were still waiting for him. The PA announced, ‘Madam is on a trip to north Karnataka. From there, she’ll go to Delhi. So there are no appointments available until late next week.’
Sanjay left the building disappointed. He decided to wait and meet Chikananjappa.
At 5 p.m., Sanjay started walking towards Chalukya Hotel. He was dejected and depressed. He thought about his selection for the lecturer’s post. It had been absolutely effortless. Dr Kamala had been in the selection committee and he had got the job without even a recommendation. But things had changed a lot in the last two years. Even though he was sincere, Sanjay found it difficult to ask for rightful credit and promotions.
On the way to the hotel, Sanjay remained deep in thought. In the outpatient department, almost 180–200 patients came in for treatment every day. Nobody was mollycoddled like in a private hospital but at the same time, nobody was turned away either. Usually, four to six doctors were working at any given time. It was difficult to handle so many patients and their unending questions. All the doctors were taught that their highest duty was to serve the patient even if he was his enemy. But when such doctors came to government offices, the people in power, who may be less educated than the doctor, treated them very badly. Sometimes, Sanjay found it tough to continue.
By the time he reached Chalukya Hotel, Chikananjappa was waiting for him and had already ordered two coffees. Chikananjappa said, ‘Doctor, I want to tell you the truth. You won’t get the sponsorship. Only people with connections get them. However, I want to take all your relevant details. Give me your home phone number so that I can call you if something works out. Are you aware that there are very few doctors like you in government hospitals? When a patient comes an
d is recommended by a minister, he gets VIP treatment. For people like us, even though the drugs are available in the store, the answer is no when we ask the staff. There are fixed rates for every operation—and you aren’t even aware of it. Similarly, we also have certain rates in our office for things like transfers, no objection certificates and so on. This unwritten rule can’t be changed by anyone. In short, I scratch your back and you scratch mine.’
Sanjay did not know what to say. Chikananjappa continued, ‘Doctor, if you keep working for the government, you’ll make many visits to our department. You can’t get a transfer, promotion, NOC or sponsorship without our department’s cooperation. You should also know who’s who here. Our people help the doctors. That’s the reason many doctors consider the people from our department to be VIPs. If you’ve ever noticed, several of your colleagues come to our department often.’
Sanjay had not noticed it. Had Chikananjappa not enlightened him, he would have remained ignorant about it. The waiter brought the coffee bill and even though Sanjay insisted on paying, Chikananjappa did not let him.
Getting up, Sanjay asked him, ‘May I call you after a couple of days?’
‘Please don’t do that. In our department, people are more interested in finding out what others are doing rather than doing their own work. When I get a telephone call during office hours, my boss thinks that I’m making money on the side. If somebody finds out that I’m trying to help you, they’ll think that I’m giving out all the inside secrets to you. They’ll punish me and transfer me to a place like Bellary or the Tourism department. Please keep our meeting a secret.’
Sanjay promised to do so and left. Chikananjappa kept sitting, probably in wait for his next visitor.
The next day, Dr Kamala called Sanjay and advised him, ‘Sanjay, just last year, I met a doctor from Bombay. Her name is Varsha and she got a sponsorship from Tata. She told me that every year, the Tata Foundation gives some sponsorships to doctors. Forget about getting assistance from the government, you’ll face a lot of hurdles. Try to get assistance from private NGOs. They’re usually fairer and rely only on merit. Apart from Tata, you can also apply for sponsorship to some good NGOs in Bangalore. Remember—don’t rely only on one. Send your application everywhere.’
Dr Kamala gave Sanjay Dr Varsha’s address and phone number.
For the next seven days, Sanjay was busy drafting request letters to different organizations for sponsorship. The first negative response came from the Tata Foundation. They replied, ‘Your credentials are excellent. We would have definitely considered you for a sponsorship but we have a fundamental rule that the doctors whom we sponsor must currently be working in Bombay. After the training, the doctor must serve the Bombay citizens for three years. Hence, we regret that you aren’t eligible for our sponsorship. We wish you all the best.’
The remaining replies that followed also had some reason or the other to reject Sanjay. Some said, ‘We cannot sponsor the entire amount. We can give you only Rs 10,000.’ Others said, ‘We can give you half the amount for the training. You must provide for the other half.’ Yet others replied, ‘We have invested our funds in another project, so we are unable to sponsor you at this time.’
Sanjay felt depressed.
One evening, when he came back home with a heavy heart, Mridula was feeding Sishir; she looked excited. Before he could ask, she said, ‘Alex and Anita are here in Bangalore. Anita phoned me just now. They will be here for four days.’
Alex and Sanjay had continued to remain in touch. Alex had not wanted to do his post-graduation. He had gone to the Middle East and made plenty of money. Mr Pinto, his father-in-law, was very happy.
Alex and Anita visited India every year; this time they had come with their baby daughter, Juliet Pratibha. Alex was staying for only two weeks but Anita was staying for four; they planned to spend most of their time in Goa, Bangalore and Mangalore. Anita was open and transparent and both the women got along very well despite the difference in their backgrounds. Anita always brought a gift for Mridula.
It was getting dark. Sanjay parked his scooter and went to wash his face. Mridula started talking as she put his dinner plate on the table and served him: ‘I’m going to call them for dinner. Let’s go out tomorrow. Their baby isn’t here; they have left her in Mangalore.’
Sanjay did not say anything.
‘What should we call the baby—Juliet or Pratibha? I like Juliet. What do you think?’
Sanjay was still quiet.
‘Do you know that they want to buy a house here? But I don’t know why they chose Bangalore. Neither of them is from here. Did Alex talk to you about it?’
Without waiting for Sanjay’s answer, she continued enthusiastically, ‘Anita wants a Kasuti sari from Hubli. She insists that I take her there at least once. Do you know the Gomantak hotel on the traffic island crossroad? The owner of that hotel is related to Alex. Anita has seen Hubli once when she was only a child. I told her that if you want to go there just to buy a Kasuti sari, then let’s not. My mother has sent me a black one for my birthday and I have still not used it. I can give that to Anita. Also, a new Kasuti sari shop has opened in Hosur. I can get it from there too.’
Sanjay was having his dinner quietly but his mind was somewhere else. Now, Mridula realized that Sanjay was not listening to her. She asked, ‘Why aren’t you saying anything? Is there a problem at the hospital?’
Sanjay continued eating silently.
Mridula tried again: ‘What happened to your sponsorship to go to the USA? I’m sure that you will get it. You’re a rank student and intelligent. Satish and Shyla are also coming to Bangalore for work but by then, you’ll be in America. Shyla is smarter than Satish. She has taken a loan to build a house in Hubli. She even visited the USA last year to help Sarla with her child. She loves to help people but doesn’t get personally attached. Can I invite Shyla to stay with us for two weeks? She always brings something for us. Oh, that reminds me. Here is more news for you—next year, Sarla and Prasanna may shift base to India. But I don’t know whether they’ll settle down in Bangalore or Bombay.’
Before she could finish, Sanjay got up and washed his hands. Mridula followed him. ‘May I tell Shyla that she can stay here?’
‘Sure.’ That was Sanjay’s only reply—short and sweet.
‘I knew that you won’t refuse. At Aladahalli, we constantly had guests at home and it was fun. I like having people around. Otherwise, I feel lonely. You enjoy reading and your work. But for me, people are important.’ Mridula continued, ‘Oh! I almost forgot. Anita had given me a gold chain the last time she visited us. I don’t like expensive gifts but she just doesn’t listen. She’s fond of Sishir too and I really love Juliet. I want to buy something for Juliet this time. Is that okay with you?’
Mridula started washing the dishes. Scrubbing a vessel with a nylon scrubber, she followed Sanjay to the bedroom. Sanjay said, ‘Give her whatever you feel like. Have I ever stopped you from spending money?’
‘No, never. But I never spend a rupee without informing you. I believe that a husband and wife should be honest with each other and take decisions together. If you spend money without informing me and I spend without telling you, then life will become tough. Isn’t that true?’
Sanjay wanted to be left alone. So he said, ‘Yes, it is.’
Suddenly, Sishir called out for his mother from the dining hall. Forgetting everything, Mridula left the vessel by the table lamp in the bedroom and ran to Sishir.
Though the fan was on, it was hot. Sanjay started thinking about life. ‘Change is the only constant. Changing according to one’s circumstances is essential. Mridula hasn’t changed much except for a few things. She has learnt Bangalore Kannada very well, her cooking has improved and she dresses better. But her heart remains the same. I remember seeing her in the wedding hall years ago. Her mind is still an open book. Sometimes, like now, she doesn’t even understand whether the other person is listening to her or not. She’s so naive.’
/>
Sanjay was unable to read or sleep. A storm was brewing in his mind. If he shared his problem with Mridula, she would not understand the delicate situation. She was in her own world of happiness and was looking forward to meeting Anita. He could not understand how Mridula could tell Anita everything. She just could not keep a secret. The worst thing was that Mridula thought that everybody was like her.
Sanjay recalled the time, soon after their marriage, when they were travelling from Hubli to Bangalore. On the way, Mridula had told him, ‘I want to tell you a secret—Satish’s secret.’
Sanjay could not remember who Satish was. Mridula had explained, ‘He’s my cousin.’
‘Oh, yes, I remember him.’
‘What did you think of him?’
‘He’s nice.’
‘You know, he wanted to marry me.’
Sanjay’s ears had perked up. He could not contain his curiosity. ‘Who told you that?’
‘Nobody.’
‘Then, how did you learn about this?’
‘I saw my picture in his wallet.’
‘When?’
‘After our engagement.’
Sanjay had immediately asked, ‘What did you do?’
‘I didn’t like it and took the picture away.’
‘What did he say?’
‘Nothing. I felt very strange. I never had such feelings towards him. I didn’t share this with anyone.’
Sanjay had laughed at her innocence. He had thought, ‘Mridula and Satish grew up together—any boy will like Mridula. It must have been infatuation. There was no reason for her to tell me this.’
