Thursday, February 18, 2010

Ramki the Doc - III

Continued from Ramki the Doc - II

Ramki flung open the door of Operation theater. Rakesh followed soon after.

Ramki looked around the room. His prey was lying motionless on the bed. The two nurses, who were standing beside the patient,one on each side, with  their faces covered with operation masks,  looked like two arabian young girls, inviting him for the dinner carrying scissors and forceps for starters.

If this wasn't enough to make his heart throb violently, what he saw next would should sure have exploded it into pieces.

"Oh! What in the name of the holy Fa... . He is my father. " 

Lying motionless on that bed, taking faint breaths like an injured animal, was his father.

"Nice of you to observe doc, as if we all didn't know that. Let's hope that you would still be saying 'He is my father' , rather than 'He was my father' after the surgery, eh.. doc ?", said Rakesh, raising one eyebrow and smiling wickedly with one half of his teeth.

Ramki was feeling too ill, to heed this ill humor. Rakesh, standing in front of him, holding forth the scalpel, and shouting vehemently the words "Cut him up, doc" , was looking like a Rayalaseema factionist handing him the sickle for execution, to Ramki. He took the scalpel with shaking hands and approached the sacred ground aka his fathers abdomen, 'to make his mark', in Rakesh's words. But once he made that first cut, he did everything after that, like a pre-programmed robot. There was no time for him to feel nervous or afraid, the instructions were just flowing in his hands from his brain, and moving them.

The surgery was successful, and Ramki came out of the operation theater more dazzled than when he entered. He ran to his office, shut the door and collapsed on the seat, taking deep breaths. He couldn't believe that HE had just performed surgery on HIS FATHER. More unbelievable to him was that the surgery was successful, given how much he hated his father.

His mother dashed into his office, oozing out fountains of tears from her eyes.

"YOU!! How dare you not tell me that your father was going to be cut up, left and right, and could have died, leaving me with a white sari to wear for the rest of my life?"

"Mom.. It was just an appendix operation."

"You shut up. Had you forgotten that your father had a wife who deserves to know her husband's well being in a better way than by your dirty friend Rakesh's facebook status 'In op theatre now. My boss going on his boss. Enjoying every minute of this son and father drama \m/ ' . You perhaps have forgotten that you have a mother, boy, but you should remember that I am your father's wife before I am your mother, and as a patients wife, I have the right to be informed about the well being of my husband"

"Mom. I would have told you if I had ... never mind. I am sorry. The surgery was successful though. He is going to be alright".

He held his mother's hands and consoled her. She wiped her tears, kissed his hand.
"And technically speaking, I was in your womb before your marriage, so you were my mother first, and father's wife after. I should even say, you were my father's wife, because you were my mother"

Ramki's mother dismissed his hand with "tut", while blushing, and left his cabin.

Ramki turned to the glass windows, and looked down at the city, which was alive now. The traffic was buzzing through the streets. People were visible, rushing in and out of their houses, brushing teeth on their balconies, roaming around wearing bathroom towels, getting ready for another day in their life.

'And in some house, in these multitude of houses, there should have been a jobless, innocent 23 year old guy, having his bed coffee, and thinking of ways to get stoned for the rest of the day. Well, should have been!! ' wondered Ramki.

Ramki, lost in thought, lost track of time, when suddenly, Ramesh's face popped in front of him out of nowhere, articulating "BEEP. BEEP. HOT CHICK ALERT, boss. "

Ramki half in surprise and half in disgust said , "What?" . Rakesh pointed to the door.

Through the glass doors, he could see,
waiting for his appointment,
checking her watch, while some of her long black curls dropped forward from the back of her ears where they were tucked up, so cruelly it would seem, for they were waiting to touch those soft cheeks as they were doing now,
behind that curtain of black hair, which teasingly hid her beautiful face,

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