The Madras Affair

by Sundari Venkatraman

  “Gautam, the name's Gautam Sinclair. It's my arm. I think I've cracked a bone.” He smiled at her through his obvious pain. The bright blue eyes on the otherwise Indian face were incredible.

  “Dr. Sukumar must be in. Please come along with me.” She walked with him towards the lift. “The orthopaedic ward's on the second floor.” Sangita waited with him for the lift.

  They entered Dr. Sukumar's cabin. “How did you manage that, Mr. Sinclair?”

  “Please call me Gautam, Ms...?” a golden eyebrow went up in query. He had not failed to notice the beautiful lady at the reception clad in a simple sari.

  “I'm Sangita.” She smiled at him pleasantly, an impersonal smile. “This is it, Mr. Sinclair. The doctor should be here any minute now.” The door on the other side opened to allow Dr. Sukumar in. “Ah, there he is. Good morning, Doctor! You'll have to excuse me now, Mr. Sinclair. Please fill out the necessary forms on your way out.” Sangita waved to him before she left him in the doctor's care.

  Gautam stared as the door closed behind her, his pain forgotten. He wasn't sure whether the lady had been real or a figment of his imagination. He had been floored by her beauty.

  Dr. Sukumar cleared his throat to claim his new patient's attention. Gautam turned around to look at the doctor. “Hi doctor, I'm Gautam Sinclair. I had a fall and I think I've cracked my arm.” He grimaced as he lifted the said anatomy for the doctor's inspection as he put his right hand out to shake the doctor's.

  “Please sit down, Mr. Sinclair, and don't move your arm.” Dr. Sukumar felt his way around Gautam's left forearm. “The ulna's cracked, I reckon, probably it gave under pressure when you tried to brace yourself. Come on, let's get an x-ray done.” Dr. Sukumar removed a disposable syringe and needle and administered an injection to Gautam's right arm. “That should take care of the pain for a few hours.”

  While waiting for the x-ray report, Gautam asked the doctor about Sangita. “The lady at the reception, Ms. Sangita. Well, I wanted...”

  Dr. Sukumar laughed loudly. He appeared to be in his early forties. “Oh, you feel attracted to her too. She is the original merry widow of the hospital, but a frigid bitch.”

  Gautam hid his shock well as he heard the cruelty in the doctor's voice. He had got one fact clear though. Sangita was a widow.

  The doctor droned on, heaping abuses on Sangita's head. His frustration originated from the fact that he had, out of great pity for the young widow, offered to bed her. She had thrown the offer back on his face, quietly and with dignity. He was a father of three with a charming wife.

  Gautam switched off from the doctor's monologue, as he preferred to form his own opinions. His thoughts went back to Sangita.

  He had been but a few feet behind her as she entered the hospital that morning. Despite his pain, he couldn't fail to admire her. Her hair had been in a low knot at the nape of her neck. The low cut neck of her pale mauve blouse had shown a large expanse of smooth skin, the colour of golden wheat. She was draped in a simple, white cotton sari with matching mauve-coloured motifs. She seemed almost unreal. Gautam had the strong urge to touch the bare skin on her midriff to assure himself that she was not a figment of his imagination.

  He had waited for a few minutes to bring this urge under control and also to give her time to settle down at her desk. He got to see her face for the first time when she had gone around her desk and sat down.

  At that moment he could well understand why some poets never tire of waxing lyrical about a woman's beauty. Her broad forehead sported a tiny, black dot for a caste mark. Her shapely, dark eyebrows seemed to be in constant movement, expressing her every thought and word. Her eyes were a gorgeous shade of brown, reminding him of molten chocolate. She had an aquiline nose and a round chin. Her mouth was small and red, the upper lip shaped like a cupid's bow and the lower one lusciously thick. His gaze moved downwards while his peripheral registered that the other lady was about to catch his attention. Immediately he spoke to Sangita, postponing further study of her alluring figure.

  Dr. Sukumar studied the x-ray against the light. An assistant was preparing Gautam's bandage.

  “The cast will have to remain for at least ten days. I'll prescribe some painkillers for a couple of days,” said Dr. Sukumar as he cast the bandage around his patient's forearm. “There's no reason this shouldn't heal soon. See me next Wednesday. We'll start you on physiotherapy then. You may have to come in everyday for about three weeks.”

  “Sure, Doctor.” Gautam was a trifle disappointed that he'd get to visit the hospital again only next week.

  “Now, about Sangita,” Dr. Sukumar went around to the same subject as his assistant left the cabin, “Wish you luck, young man. I hope you have a good time thawing her.” He laughed at his own joke, giving Gautam a broad wink, man-to-man. He didn't notice Gautam's face go tight with revulsion.

  Gautam got up to leave as his cast dried. “Thank you, Dr. Sukumar, for everything. Your fees...”

  “You may pay at the reception, Mr. Sinclair. Ah, I've been meaning to ask you. That's a strange combination, Gautam Sinclair—Indian name, foreign surname.”

  “Well, my mother's an Indian and father American.” Gautam didn't elaborate further and left before the doctor could ask him anything more.

  He stepped out of the lift and walked directly to Sangita. There were five people standing at the reception desk while she and the other girl attended to them one by one. Gautam became a little impatient as he waited for his turn.

  He took out his cell phone to call the Loyola College, where he was a professor of English, to inform them that he wouldn't be coming in that day. Then he sat back on the sofa and closed his eyes to rest for a while.

  Sangita watched him from behind her desk. The well-built man who had towered over her in the lift appeared strangely vulnerable, sitting on the sofa, his head against the back rest, with the bright blue, inquisitive eyes closed. Long, thick and golden-brown lashes fanned his cheeks and the pain that was visible on his face earlier, seemed gone. He looked relaxed.

  Sangita felt a mild stirring of curiosity and something else she couldn't quite put a finger to. This man, Gautam, had fascinated her from the moment she set her eyes on him. What was it about him, she questioned herself as she watched him. He was almost beautiful, she thought. She tended to meet a lot of people day in and day out as the receptionist of the upper-crust hospital. But she had never given anyone a second thought, especially men. She steered clear of the species. Once bitten, twice shy!

  Sangita found herself looking directly into the pair of blue eyes that had been closed in slumber a minute before. She turned red as he smiled at her, his whole face alight, blue eyes sparkling.

  Gautam got up and stretched one arm before covering a yawn behind his fingers. He walked across to Sangita and grinned apologetically. “I'm sorry about that, guess I dozed off.” The rest had obviously done him good.

  “That's okay. If you could fill out this form Mr. Sinclair? And the fee would be Rs. 1500, please. There'll be no extra charge for making use of the hospital sofa for a couple of hours.” Sangita kept her face straight as she glanced at the tiny watch on her wrist.

  “What? A couple of hours? You must surely be joking,” Gautam looked at the clock behind her. 12.15. He wasn't wearing his watch for obvious reasons. “I don't believe this,” he shook his head in amazement. “I was out for two hours! Damn,” he swore softly. “You should've woken me up, though I noticed you're quite busy.” He looked dazed, feeling disoriented. The injection had obviously been strong and he had been working late the earlier night.

  Sangita smiled at his confusion as she gave the form to him. He sat down in one of the chairs in front of her, filling the form. Sangita ran her eyes over the paper as she checked that all the necessary details had been added. She gave Gautam a receipt as he handed over the money to her.

  “Well, Sangita, charmed to meet you,” he smiled widely and she noticed for the first time the tiny dimple that peeped out of h
is right cheek, just beside the corner of his mouth, “and now I'll have to take your leave. See you next Wednesday”. Gautam raised two fingers in a mock salute, turned and left the reception.

  “Oh my God! What a guy!” exclaimed Rithika. “I'd have swooned if he'd smiled at me the way he did at you.” She always opined that Sangita was wasting her youth away without a man to share it with. And for the first time in all these years she saw her friend pay some attention to a guy.

  Sangita shrugged and didn't say anything in reply. She was sure that Gautam would probably meet a dozen girls before next Wednesday and wouldn't even remember her face, let alone her name.

  4

  Sangita went home that evening to find Sandeep unwell. He had developed a cold and mild temperature. No wonder he had been cranky in the morning. She cuddled him for a while. Rekha brought in some warm milk for the child and coffee for Sangita.

  “Thanks, Rekha Manni. I really don't know what I'd do without you.” Sangita's voice was wobbly with unshed tears and gratitude, as she looked lovingly at her brother's wife who had become her dearest friend.

  “Don't be silly, Sangita. I don't need formal thanks from you. I'm sure you'd have done the same if not more if our positions were reversed.” Rekha smiled at her young sister-in-law. She felt sad that her beauty and all the love she was capable of giving were being squandered away. She sighed softly.

  Radha entered the room and let out a dramatic sigh. “If only Giridhar was here! If only you didn't have to fend for yourself! Hmm...” she sighed again. “All because of our fate. What to do? My poor child! You have to suffer it all alone. My dear grandson! How sad you never saw your father's face! Hmm...” another loud sigh.

  Sandeep looked at his grandmother strangely. She fascinated him, grunting and groaning alternatively over his non-existent father. One thought dominated the child's mind. He urgently required a father to set his grandmother's mind at peace. He gave her an angelic smile as if to reassure her. It was totally wasted on the cranky old lady.

  Rekha met Sangita's laughing eyes for a twinkling second before lowering her own, holding back the mirth that sprang to her lips.

  Sangita turned to her son and biting her lower lip to withhold a teasing smile, told him, “Will you be alright with Radha Patti for a while, darling? I'll just pop down to the kitchen with Rekha Maami and help her with dinner.”

  “Yeah, okay. But will you play Scrabble with Ramya and me when you're finished?”

  “Sure, Sandeep. In an hour, then,” Sangita bent down to kiss her son's forehead before leaving him in the care of his grandmother.

  The two of them entered the kitchen where Sangita served herself some upma and coconut chutney. “How about you, Manni?”

  “Not for me, Sangita. I had a late lunch. So tell me, how was the hospital today?”

  They had got into the routine of discussing their daily activity in the evenings. “You wouldn't believe this. A guy walked in today morning. Gautam Sinclair. The name suggests half Indian, half American, doesn't it?. He wrote in the hospital form that he is a professor. He looked like he came from a rich background. You should have seen his face, Manni. Brown hair with golden streaks, very fair skin, Indian features till you catch his eyes. Electric blue. Yeah. Don't look so surprised. He had bright blue eyes and a deep American accent. To top it all, a dimple, though only on the right cheek.”

  Sangita went on and on about Gautam Sinclair. Rekha encouraged her to talk by putting forth a question now and then. She was thrilled to see her sister-in-law's animated reaction to someone. She had otherwise always seen an inherent sadness in the large, doe-like eyes.

  Sangita stopped talking when she saw her mother walking into the kitchen.

  “Sandeep's been running a temperature since morning. Only a bad cold, I think,” Rekha covered the lapse in the conversation by changing the subject.

  Radha joined in, “Yeah, poor child. He seems to be suffering from chest congestion. If only...” The two younger women switched off and started getting dinner ready.

  Gautam smiled at his students the next day. They had used up the better part of an hour enquiring after his accident and signing their best wishes on his plaster cast. They just needed an excuse to avoid the lecture. He smiled at the exuberant group indulgently.

  They weren't a bad lot, he thought to himself. His own days as a student were not that far behind and he had not forgotten what made them tick. He could relate to them and that made him one of the most popular professors in the college.

  “And now, my dear students, let's get back to...”

  They groaned as one. “Sir, please. I'm sure your doctor will be shocked to see you at work so soon after your accident. Please don't strain yourself.” This was Shyam, his voice dripping concern, his eyes brimming with mischief.

  “Shyam...” Gautam never got beyond that.

  “And, sir, there are barely ten minutes left before the bell, anyway. Why don't you talk to us instead of teaching, please!” That was Nandita, one of the ace students in the class.

  Gautam gave in and spent the rest of the class fooling with them.

  “But tomorrow,” his voice rose above the chatter; Gautam paused a minute to get their undivided attention before continuing, “tomorrow, we continue with Julius Caesar and I hope to work faster than usual to compensate for the two days we've missed. I expect you guys to fully co-operate,” he grinned at them.

  “Sure, sir,” the students spoke in unison as the bell rang announcing the end of class.

  The whole day passed by in this fashion. All his students refused to let him teach and he put up with it for the day. The breaks were no better, his fellow professors wanting to know what had happened.

  Finally, it was time to leave. Gautam left the college to hail an auto-rickshaw. He usually rode a motorbike to work. But that was out for the next couple of weeks. He gave the driver directions and sat back in the seat.

  His thoughts immediately moved to Sangita. He sighed with pleasure. He looked forward to meeting her again.

  Gautam lived in Besant Nagar, not far from the hospital. He wondered how he had never seen Sangita in the area. He shrugged his wide shoulders. He probably left the area to go to work while she came into Besant Nagar to begin her day at the hospital.

  His eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled to himself recalling the events of the previous day. He had been so impatient with himself after the accident. But it looked like it was destiny; the broken arm had made it possible for him to meet Sangita.

  Gautam lived with his maternal grandparents in a large bungalow, Shraddanjali, on MGR Road. His mother Swetha, and father Alistair Sinclair, lived in the USA. Gautam used to visit his grandparents with his whole family once every year and had opted to settle here as he fell in love with the city of Madras, now called Chennai. His grandparents had only been too happy to have him reside with them since the past four years.

  Gautam couldn't wait for Wednesday to dawn when he could find out whether Sangita was for real. He wasn't awfully bothered about his broken arm.

  The next few days moved at a snail's pace. Sangita caught herself recalling the short time she had spent in Gautam Sinclair's company. His blue eyes and that tiny dimple fascinated her. She'd never met a man with a dimple before. But this was nonsense! She seemed to be thinking of the stranger more often than not.

  Silly, Sangita scolded herself. Why the sudden interest in a guy after all these years? And he was probably married with a family to boot. She paled at the thought. How foolish to keep thinking of a married man! Sangita shook herself out of her reverie to continue with the filing.

  Unfortunately, there had been no column in the hospital form enquiring a patient's marital status. She sighed gently. What was wrong with her? She'd been like a dog with a bone, thinking about Gautam Sinclair, throughout the week. What a waste of energy! But telling herself so didn't stop her from doing just that.

  5

  Wednesday morning dawned to find butterflies fl
uttering in Sangita's stomach. She got Sandeep ready for his preschool in an absentminded fashion. She sat down at the dining table to have breakfast with her brothers. But the hot idlis her sister-in-law served with sambhar tasted like sawdust while her throat was too choked to swallow. It felt as if her heart had risen from her chest and settled in her throat, beating so hard and fast. Her hands and feet felt chilled and with great difficulty, Sangita forced down half a cup of coffee and with an apologetic smile to Rekha, left for work.

  “What's wrong with the girl?” Sangita heard her mother asking no one in particular as she slipped on her shoes and fled before she was stopped.

  Sangita reached the hospital earlier than usual. She sat down to switch her computer on. She had some information to feed in and bent down to remove the relevant files. She placed them in front of her and was staring stupidly at the computer screen when her friend walked in.

  “My, my, aren't we early today?” teased Rithika, looking at the clock pointedly.

  “And Good Morning to you too,” answered Sangita with mild sarcasm.

  Rithika gave her friend a wide smile as she settled down behind her desk. “How about a cup of coffee?”

  “Not for me, thanks.” Sangita's hands trembled as she shuffled the files on her desk. The frown that was forming on Rithika's forehead vanished as she realised the reason for the other woman's nervousness. She sent up a prayer to the Almighty.

  Time moved at the pace of a tortoise. Sangita kept alternating her gaze between her watch and the doorway.

  Suddenly, there were three people at the desk. Sangita reddened as she caught Gautam's slow smile. Her eyes searched for the dimple and she felt thrilled to find that it hadn't disappeared since his last visit.

  He waited patiently for the two girls to deal with the other patients before moving towards Sangita.

  “Hi, beautiful. How are you?” His voice was an intimate purr for her ears alone.