Bombay Rains, Bombay Girls

by Anirban Bose

  Dr Uma kept talking as Ameena’s labour progressed slowly. The baby’s head was almost out. The fetid odour grew stronger with the baby’s burgeoning body, making Adi clasp his nostrils in a vise like grip. Then, as Ameena screamed like a woman possessed and along with the crinkled, slithery baby, a gush of slimy, blood-covered gunk started pouring out of her vagina, everything went black in front of Adi’s eyes.

  Adi opened his eyes to see six pairs peering down at him. Embarrassment washed him from head to toe. He tried to get up but his arms and legs refused to co-operate. He knew that the news of his fainting while watching a childbirth would travel fast and, from then on, he would fall into the category of ‘misfits in medicine’ who faint at the sight of blood or mucus. Since that was an automatic qualification for sissydom, getting to be vertical was, at that moment, synonymous with regaining his manliness.

  He tried again, this time with more success.

  Before he could say anything, Adi heard Isha telling the others, ‘He tripped over my bag when he backed up… I shouldn’t have put such a heavy bag on the floor.’ Then, turning to Adi, she said, ‘I’m sorry, Adi…I didn’t realize you were going to step back… I put the bag there because it was too heavy. Your head must have hit the floor so hard…it knocked you out. Are you okay?’

  Adi immediately saw the godsent opening to salvage his pride. Rubbing his head, he grinned sheepishly and said, ‘Yeah, I’m okay… Just that my head hurts a little. Don’t worry, it’s not your fault. I was just trying to get a better look, that’s all.’

  Isha smiled apologetically. ‘I’m so sorry… I shouldn’t have kept the bag there. You sure you’re okay? You hit the floor pretty hard.’

  Adi nodded, his face full of the machismo of a silent sufferer. Inside, he marvelled at his stroke of luck. Indeed, far from being an embarrassment, this was an explanation that evoked sympathy and satisfied everybody else. They redirected their attention towards the mother and her new baby. Adi sighed with relief, thanking God repeatedly for giving Isha the wrong impression.

  It was close to 9 p.m. when Adi finally grabbed the moment he had been waiting for. As it turned out, Isha and he were the only two returning to campus.

  ‘Hey, Isha, do you want to eat something before we go back?’ he asked.

  She looked at him, somewhat surprised and hesitant.

  Adi rubbed his head where he had fallen and said, ‘The canteen will have closed by the time we reach campus.’

  She smiled and let out a tentative ‘okay’. They walked out of the hospital and within ten minutes stepped into a small, clean Udipi restaurant.

  ‘Did you get a signature for the delivery?’ she asked Adi as they sat down to eat.

  ‘Signature? From whom?’

  ‘You know, you have to enter every delivery you watch in the ob-gyn journal and get it signed by whoever is conducting the delivery… Dr Uma for today.’

  Adi thought it best not to let on that his reasons for attending had been far from academic. Never mind getting a signature, he didn’t even possess a journal.

  ‘Yeah…I forgot to get it today… I think Dr Uma will sign it tomorrow. After all, she can’t forget my presence today.’

  She laughed. ‘Does it still hurt?’ she asked.

  Adi felt like telling her that her laughter made it feel better, because it did, but he smiled and shook his head.

  ‘Where was Payal?’ he asked innocently. ‘Ameena was her patient, right?’

  ‘Yeah…although she had said she might have some stuff to do this evening. But I don’t know why the others showed up.’

  That caught Adi’s attention. So, she hadn’t liked the five other students showing up for the delivery. Had she anticipated being alone with him tonight too? But she hadn’t known he would be there…

  ‘Payal even asked Dr Uma for permission to be there for the delivery. Something important must have held her up.’

  ‘Really? When?’ asked Adi, unsure of why Payal had sought permission to witness her own patient’s delivery.

  ‘Remember after we had lunch with you? She spoke to Dr Uma about us attending the delivery and also said that you might show up too. Dr Uma said it was okay for the three of us to come, and that she would tell Ameena. But the others hadn’t asked her.’

  Adi suddenly felt very happy. So, Isha had known that he was going to be there. She had perhaps anticipated being alone with him. No wonder she was irritated that the others had shown up!

  ‘Yeah,’ he said, vehemently. ‘They had no business being there!’

  ‘It’s just so demeaning, you know.’

  Adi nodded as though he understood. Demeaning? What was demeaning about it? What was she talking about?

  She said, ‘I feel so sorry for Ameena.’ Adi nodded again while trying hard to avoid the confusion from showing on his face. What the hell was she talking about? Where did Ameena, fit into all this?

  Isha continued, ‘It must be so painful during labour, and then these five show up to watch it as though it’s a spectacle. Imagine, you are in labour, all naked, uncomfortable and in pain, with no control over anything, anxious to get it over with and concerned about the child being born at the same time…and then five people show up who you don’t know, who have not bothered to ask you for permission, and simply stare at your most private parts, and then leave without a word after it is over… How demeaning is that!’

  Adi had never felt shallower in his life. Here he was, immersed in his hormone-driven, egocentric interpretations of her words, while she was seething with indignation on behalf of the patient. Adi realized that he would have been one of those inconsiderate jerks had it not been for Payal seeking permission on his behalf. He silently thanked her from the bottom of his heart for more reasons than one.

  Isha’s eyes were moist.

  ‘Well,’ said Adi, ‘you’re right…but I guess it’s tough for me to know what labour is like!’

  She smiled. He felt happy to see her smile. He continued, ‘But I think most of the others are new to clinical medicine and have not dealt with patients yet…’

  ‘No, no, Adi. That’s not true. You think these five would dare to do such a thing in private hospitals like Breach Candy or Bombay Hospital? They know that if they want to see anything there, they’ll have to talk to the attending doctor as well as the patient. They know right from wrong, Adi. It’s just that Ameena is poor and has to be in a hospital where she has no say in her own care. This has nothing to do with clinical medicine and everything to do with somebody being poor. Because she is poor, Ameena is taken for granted, her feelings don’t matter…’ Her voice, filled with outrage, trailed off.

  Adi stared at her, speechless with admiration. The spirit beneath that sweet smile and the beautiful face astonished him. Suddenly, she looked so much more beautiful.

  ‘You’re absolutely right!’ he said. ‘I have an idea. Why don’t we take some sweets back to Ameena in the ward and see how her baby is?’

  She smiled, and Adi’s heart lit up.

  FIFTEEN

  The ladies’ hostel on the main campus of Grant Medical College was shielded like a fort. For some reason, the feeling that ladies were not ‘safe’ and needed protection from a pack of vicious, hormone-ravaged male medical students was built into the construction of the hostel and the psyche of its supervisors. A uniformed guard and two levels of barricade – a wooden door and a collapsible iron gate – defended the solitary entrance in front of the building. Other than the visitors’ room, the ladies’ hostel was strictly off limits to men. In keeping with this protective, paternalistic sentiment, rooms on the ground floor were devoid of living quarters. A six-foot tall steel wire fence surrounded the entire building, ensuring untouchability, even with a ten-foot pole. The area in front of the entrance was brightly lit, ostensibly to prevent any ‘illicit, immoral activities’ – a rather unnecessary waste of electricity since the guards kept a close eye on anybody who showed up. At midnight sharp, they locked the main gate with mil
itary zeal, after which, entering entailed the unpleasant task of rapping on the wooden door through the small openings on the collapsible gate – an act to which they didn’t take too kindly. The night guard was especially terrifying. He was a crotchety character with a crabby face that complemented his disposition. His real name was a mystery, everyone called him Khadoos Baba, an epithet he took rather seriously. His beady eyes would narrow further, scanning the offenders suspiciously while he checked his watch a couple of times to indicate the unearthliness of the hour. With extreme reluctance, he would unlock the door, muttering angrily under his breath and occasionally slipping in some key words loud enough to make his displeasure obvious. The thought of having to get past Khadoos Baba was enough to dissuade a fair number of paramours, and ensured a rush for re-entry just before the dreaded midnight hour. Khadoos Baba was an ex-lab technician who had been fired for showing up drunk for work after his daughter had run away with a Muslim boy. He was an educated man, and in an effort to rehabilitate him, he had been given this opportunity to work as the nightshift guard at the ladies’ hostel. Khadoos Baba saw in every unmarried couple, his daughter who would betray him and a Muslim boy who would instigate the betrayal: a vision that led him to do his job with a passion disproportionate to the responsibility it carried.

  In stark contrast to the neurosis inside, the mood outside the hostel was very cosmopolitan. Groups of boys and girls hung out and chatted late into the night. Young couples sat close together, immersed in intimate discussion. From their balconies, single girls spied on the couples below, hoping to catch some of the snippets of conversation that would churn the gossip mills the next day. Cars and motorcycles stopped at periodic intervals to pick up or drop off the ladies. The more reserved ones, who didn’t wish to be seen, went to the visitors’ room to wait for their dates, only to realize that being discreet was not exactly the guard’s priority. In the unsophisticated tradition of town criers, the guard would shout the girl’s name repeatedly from the ground floor at the top of his voice until she showed up, alerting the rest of the hostel that she had a visitor at 6 p.m. on that day.

  Adi was toying with the idea of asking Isha out on a date – a real, formal date. He tried to be positive about his prospects – he was, after all, one of the most popular guys in class and the incident with Ameena had played out fairly well. Thanks to Isha’s enthusiasm, Adi had attended quite a few deliveries, even managing to subliminally imbibe some obstetric principles while trying to impress her. But whenever Adi remembered her reaction to Harsha’s advances, his enthusiasm would dampen. Finally, when no amount of scheming seemed to offer a foolproof solution, Adi decided to simply approach her and ask her if she would go out to dinner with him.

  That evening, Adi put on his best clothes after a nice long bath with an especially expensive shampoo. He checked his hair a few times in the mirror, confirmed that his breath smelled good and that he had enough money to splurge. Then, ignoring the butterflies in his stomach, he headed towards the ladies’ hostel.

  It was still early in the evening when Adi approached the formidable entrance. Khadoos Baba wasn’t destined to arrive for the next few hours. The timing seemed to be perfect: the crowd was thin and the faces unfamiliar. All the omens were right. He asked the guard to call Isha Banerji.

  The guard stepped inside to announce her name.

  That was when Adi spotted Sheetal in the TV room. She was busy watching some show and didn’t look in his direction. However, as the guard yelled out, ‘Isha Banerji…visitor’, loudly and repeatedly, Adi could see Sheetal’s interest suddenly get aroused. She looked in his direction just as he ducked out of sight.

  Adi was certain that Isha would refuse to go out with him in Sheetal’s presence, simply to avoid becoming the subject of class gossip. Out of the corner of his eyes, he spotted Sheetal approaching the entrance to satisfy her curiosity. Panic-stricken, he looked up to see Isha walking down the stairs. They converged simultaneously at the main door, both equally surprised to see Adi.

  Isha smiled and said, ‘Hi Adi. Did you call for me?’

  ‘Hi, Adi. What are you doing here?’ asked Sheetal.

  Adi’s desperate grin tried to hold off a reply while he searched for a simple white lie that would save the situation. But all he could come up with was, ‘Nothing. I… I was just going to ask Isha out to dinner.’

  Sheetal raised her eyebrows and looked at Isha.

  A hint of surprise grazed Isha’s face. ‘Now?’ she asked.

  Adi nodded, bracing himself for a refusal. He hoped she would make it painless and at least offer him a way out…maybe she had already had dinner or she had to complete some assignment.

  She said, ‘Okay, give me ten minutes to change.’

  It took him a few seconds to register what she had said. Then he smiled and said, ‘Great. Thanks! I’ll be right here.’

  As Isha turned to leave, Sheetal smiled and said saucily, ‘Have fun, you two.’

  By the time they finished dinner in a small restaurant near Churchgate, the night had darkened to the silence that afflicts downtown areas with empty office buildings and shuttered, padlocked shops. The last of the office workers hurried away towards the station, hoisting their bags and clutching their saris in the rush to get to their trains on time. The roadside vendors were busy packing their wares for the night, wearily bundling their meagre belongings into makeshift beds in one corner of their stall. A few scrawny dogs ran around intrepidly, picking up scraps of food and territorial fights in the comfortable absence of a crowd. Adi and Isha walked slowly towards the bus stand, their footsteps clattering loudly on the empty pavement.

  Although they made small talk all through the evening, Adi sensed her uneasiness. He noticed her terse responses, her contrived smile; even her laughter felt synthetic to his ears. She avoided his eyes and intermittently stole quick glances at her watch while trying to avoid getting caught doing so.

  Convinced that Isha’s discomfort was rooted in the unpleasant thought of becoming the latest subject of gossip, Adi silently cursed Sheetal for messing up his evening. He tried to keep up the small talk, hoping that the constant chatter would distract her from such thoughts. In some corner of his heart he even felt afraid of inheriting Harsha’s fate at the conclusion of the evening.

  Finally, when it was obvious that neither of them was enjoying the evening, Adi stopped and asked, ‘Are you tense about something?’

  ‘Me? No…not really.’

  ‘You look very ill at ease, Isha…and you don’t lie very well.’

  She smiled. ‘It’s nothing…it’s just that I’m not sure about going out…and if Sheetal…’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Adi, cutting her off, ‘I was trying to avoid Sheetal too. Believe me, I would never have called for you if I’d known she was there.’

  ‘No, no…I’m not sure about myself, Adi. It’s not about Sheetal…in fact, were it not for Sheetal, I probably wouldn’t be here.’

  Adi looked at her, confused. ‘I…I’m not sure I understand. Are you feeling bad that Sheetal saw us?’

  ‘No…why would I feel bad about that? In fact, if she hadn’t been there today when you asked me, I wouldn’t have said yes.’

  Adi was flummoxed. ‘What…what did Sheetal do to change your mind about coming out to dinner with me?’

  ‘Sheetal didn’t do anything. I just didn’t want to hurt your feelings in front of her, that’s all. I thought you would be embarrassed if I turned you down in front of her and so I agreed to come…but in all honesty, I don’t know what I am doing here.’

  Adi fell silent, feeling bitterly hurt, but feeling strangely guilty about feeling hurt. The paradox left him unable to react.

  ‘Are you feeling bad?’ she asked.

  Adi shrugged. ‘I…I don’t know what I’m feeling,’ he said honestly.

  She sighed. ‘Look Adi, you are a really nice guy and many girls would love to go out with you. But I… I’m not sure I’m ready for all this.’

  �
�But you care about my feelings not being hurt in front of Sheetal?’

  ‘Wouldn’t you have felt bad if I had said no in front of Sheetal?’

  ‘I… I would have felt very embarrassed…but why do you care what I feel?’

  ‘Because it’s very important to you, Adi. You like being popular and liked by the class.’

  ‘Is that bad?’

  ‘No, no,’ she said, smiling disarmingly. ‘There’s nothing bad about it, but that is the reason I didn’t want to embarrass you in front of Sheetal. For you, it is really important to have lots of friends and people who admire you.’

  ‘But everybody likes that, right? Everybody likes to have lots of friends and to be popular.’

  ‘I don’t.’

  ‘Really?’

  She thought for a few seconds and said, ‘It’s different for you, Adi. You have grown so much in stature in the class, from the initial days in first MB to now. I remember you from when you were a quiet, simple chap, hanging around with Sam. You’ve changed so much…in a positive way. But I don’t care about that…honestly, I don’t. I mean… I have friends, you know, people I say hello to. But I’m good-friends only with Payal. It’s not right or wrong, Adi…it’s just a difference in personality…we are different people.’

  ‘So is that why you’re unhappy to be here with me?’

  ‘No, not really. It’s just that I’m confused…’ She fell silent for a few minutes. ‘See Adi,’ she began, again. ‘I’m from a middle-class family. My mother has spent all her energy, time, and money trying to give my sister and me a better life. She has paid for the best schools, classes and teachers, despite having a limited salary. She has really high expectations of me, and justifiably so. So, I feel that my time here in medical college should be spent almost exclusively on my studies. My results are a fruit of her labour, not mine. And I want her to be happy with it…not feel that her efforts went to waste.’