Tuesday, September 16, 2014

I thought I knew what love meant. And then I met her.

Love! What exactly does one mean by the word?
Caring? Thinking of someone? Obsession? Passion?

I thought I knew what love meant. I discovered I had no idea what love meant. Not for a long time. Not till something special was lost to me.  And a special talent in me went silent.

And yet I distinctly remember how it all started. How could I not? It was the first time ever that I had fallen in love.

It was during my internship. I moved to a new hospital. I immersed myself thoroughly in all the work that could possibly be laid my way. I had one vow. I would never say no to a patient, even if it meant going an extra mile for that patient. Usually it meant that I would be working beyond my prescribed hours trying to help those that were around, whether it was my co-interns, or the patients.

One of the reasons I joined the new hospital was to get back home, get back to my family, and get back to the routine that I had before I left home to the hostel (not that I am complaining about my life cycle in the hostel). Fate had other plans. Soon after I moved to the city, my folks had to shift to a new city. And once again I was left alone, this time in a megacity.

And then I tried to study for post graduate entrance exams. I went to the library, instead of going home. I loved being there. It had become my routine to come to the library early in the morning. Sometimes I would be waiting for the librarian to open the doors. The library had relatively less number of chairs to be occupied then there were people interested in coming to the library for their studies. So it was usual for us to occupy any vacant seat, even if someone had been there a while ago.  I usually did not mind the trend. Till I returned to find my seat occupied by someone napping in my place. Yet I did not have the heart to wake her up and pick up an argument, a gauntlet that was just there waiting to be picked up. Her wild curled hair covered her face completely. So I simply collected the books of mine and moved couple of seat up to displace someone else. She was still sleeping when the librarian finally rounded us stray sheep to close the library.

I soon met the sleeping person through a couple of mutual friends. In a closed society like the medical staff in the hospital, and an even more select subset like the interns, one always find out about each other sooner or later, whether they like it or not.

During the one year of internship, all of us were meant to do 15 CMO duties. I intended to finish the fifteen days worth of duties within 9 days. The first couple of duties I managed to do with my friends. But since they were in no mood to do back to back duties, the third night would probably be like a blind date. It was the girl with the curly hair. She was as aggressive around patients as I was. And that was comforting. I hated compensating for others.

And then came the night. As usual the CMO left us in charge and went to sleep. We decided that we would take turns sleeping. Now it was entirely not my cup of tea to wake up in the middle of the night (that meant 3 AM and not midnight in the emergency setup- I still dislike that scenario). So I asked her to go to sleep first. Of course since the CMO was in the room, she had to try to relax right there, sitting in the chair. It was a quite kind of night, with only a few patients trickling in after midnight. And I ploughed on, awake, reading my class notes or writing some case notes when the patients arrived. Eventually 3 AM came by and went past, and I kept doing my notes. Finally at dawn she woke up. And demanded an explanation as to why I did not wake her up. I heard myself utter the dumbest excuse that I had ever heard- because she looked so peaceful and relaxed while she rested, and because her hair was so nice.

“Her hair is nice?” I asked myself all the way home. I had no idea what had made me say that. Especially because I knew I preferred the long straight hair.
I suppose we started talking somewhat regularly after the CMO duties ended.

They say the time flies when you are enjoying. The internship surely flew past. The day came when I was to say goodbye to everyone. I had to return to my family. It was time to return to normal life, once again. And yet, this time something was amiss.

The flight was to take off at 1635 hours. I got a call at noon that she was getting a CAT scan. She had some severe dyspnea and bloody sputum. And the senior most chest physician in the hospital had advised the CT scan. From the intern’s point of view, that information added up to something drastic. I rushed to the hospital. There she was in the waiting room scared, yet trying unsuccessfully to pretend that she was in complete control of herself. I could almost feel the fear vibes in the air. She walked in and the scan was initiated. Once the scan was completed, she was given some intravenous dye to complete the study. And that increased the frenzy with which the alarm bells rang. Two minutes later, the scan was completed, and she was brought out. We were told to stand by while the radiologists took a look at the scan in case they needed to repeat a sequence. Having seated her, and leaving some friends by her side, I moved into the CT scan room to badger the residents with my question, one last time again.

Five minutes later, my watch and mobile alarms constantly reminding me that it was time to leave for the airport, I walked out of the reporting room. I had just met the radiology consultant. This was more than I had bargained for. I had walked in expecting to force them to show the CT scan to the SR at the very least.

I walked up to her and quietly whispered into her ear that I had to leave now. She nodded. As a parting gift, I told her that the CT scan was absolutely normal and she could go back and dress up.
Of course I would leave before she would come back. I didn’t mention that to her. I left the city that evening, and lost one of my most prized talents. 

That was the last time I saw her for many long years to come.