The Visit

As a child, hospital visits were something I always dreaded. The peculiar smell that was strong enough to induce a dreadful nausea the second you set foot on the compound, the building that looked straight out of a horror movie, the nurses with their marked indifference to whatever the hell your sickness may be, the doctors with their mostly inapproachable attitudes, the patients who seemed all packed and prepared for the ‘final journey’. All this mixed with the deplorable canteen food made it a top contender for my personal ‘Top 5 Places to Avoid’ list. The next close competitor was Raji Aunty’s house but let’s save that story for later.

So coming back to hospitals, this visit however, was special. Vasu Uncle who we all fondly called ‘Vasu Mama’ was not the average patient. Doctors called it ‘Nerve Degenerating Disorder’ which meant within a span of a couple of years, Vasu Mama had gone from being a highly paid official in a Corporate Giant to being affected by partial paralysis which soon resulted in complete loss of movement. His declining health brought with it, both shock and despair to my family. After all, most of Vasu Mama’s nieces and nephews owed their degrees and good lives to him. That such a situation would befall Vasu Mama was unacceptable.

I adored him for his simplicity and the love with which he would engage me in deep conversations which mostly revolved around my silly and imaginary theories. He would encourage my childish ways of making sure he and aunty never felt bored whenever they visited home. Add to that all the lovely gifts he brought and the good food we got to eat when he was home. This man, was truly a Rockstar!!

And today, we were to meet this rockstar. Until then, we had only heard about his condition and so today we didn’t know what to expect. In any case, I wanted to give him a little something he didn’t expect too. For lack of other ideas and resources, I finally decided to make Vasu Mama a flower bouquet. Yes, I had inherited my ammama’s creative genes and I was going to make him a wonderful bouquet. He would keep it by the side of his bed in a pretty vase and would show it off to all the nurses, doctors, cleaners and visitor. The gardens in Kerala have a generous bounty of indigenous flowers and leaves and off I rushed, to make my first bouquet ever.

I plucked, organized, arranged, plucked some more, rearranged, added some highlights, made some cuts, tied a ribbon and it was good to go!!! I gave it a good look. The red flower in the center was the obvious attraction but in general, this bouquets was for keeps. I couldn’t wait to give it to Vasu Mama. The details of his condition escaped me. To me he was now a tired man whose pain I was going to alleviate with my beautiful bouquet. Soon we got ready and left for the hospital. None of the smell, environment or attitude mattered any more. I was here to meet Vasu Mama and as I marched to his room, holding my bouquet on one hand and my mother’s dupatta on the other, I smiled thinking of my little surprise.

What we had heard was only a fraction of his actual condition but what he lost in physical energy, he made up in his sparkling eyes and heart warming smile. He could talk but in a feeble voice with which he lovingly enquired about all of us. Amma and Ammama were strong enough not to break down seeing Vasu Mama in his current state. As for me, my world had sunk. Two reasons - the usually cheerful and animated Vasu Mama in bed itself was disheartening. To worsen things, there was a huge bouquet on his side table, so colourful it could brighten anyone’s day. Rows of chrysanthemums, asters and roses neatly arranged to perfection in a lovely woven basket. I thought about my bouquet, which I now held behind me deftly hidden from Vasu Mama.

How could I give him this shoddy gift. I didn’t even know the names of the flowers in my bouquet. Hell, I even forgot the ‘With Loads of Love’ card!!! Just as I quietly decided to discard it as soon as we left the room, Amma turned to me and asked, ‘Are you not giving it to him?’. How could she even mention it now. Had she not noticed the table? Annoyed, I slowly whispered to her saying I couldn’t give him such a shabby gift while there was an exquisite bouquet waiting to greet everyone. Vasu Mama was now curious. ‘What did you bring me?’, he asked me with a smile. I could only manage a nod while, much to my embarrassment, Amma narrated all my morning tamasha and my current feeling. Vasu Mama let out a mild  laugh and whispered something in his Aunty’s ear. Smiling, Aunty extended her hand at me expectantly.

Awkwardly, I held out my hand and gave her the bunch of flowers. I couldnt even call it a bouquet anymore. To my surprise, Aunty immediately replaced the bouquet on the table and placed my flowers instead. ‘Here you go! This is, by far, the most beautiful bouquet I have ever received and it will be here so I can see them everyday until I leave.’ His words made me both happy and proud. Happy that I was atleast able to gift Vasu Mama a moment of happiness and proud to have known such a great man.

My First 'Last Working Day'

Not many people are fortunate enough to look back at their very first job and have a smile on their face. Well, Am grinning! Almost 3 years, and yet the clichéd line ‘ It just feels like yesterday’ is exactly what I felt. It was time to pack all the dolls and idols I bought/ won and was gifted, myriads of invitation cards from my colleagues, the small pieces of paper on which I had drawn my very intricate art designs during heated meetings and concalls (Most people tend to scribble, but hey, Why not sharpen your skills instead!). I had other stuff to pack too. Things that meant much more – My memories and learnings.

My first day in an office was unlike most other campus recruits since I had no one from my college/ school. An entirely new crowd, many of whom would go on to be my mentors, guides, friends, gossip-mates and colleagues. I had miles to go, ahead of me and being my very first job, I must say, I had no clue of what I was going to do. I had to learn the rules of the game and then follow those rules, I had to be a game changer when some of the rules didn’t make sense, I had to try and be as valuable to my team as the team was to me, I had to prove that I was as passionate about work as I was about dancing in every office event. And after all this, I had to make sure I stayed sane. J

When I was in school, my father once took my mother and me to visit his office. I still remember, most of whom I got introduced to would speak so highly of him. To me it was almost as if he was the stud without whom the entire office would just stop functioning. I beamed with pride. After the whole tour, we got to our car and just as my father was out of the parking he shrugged and said – ‘At your job, everyone is replaceable’. It didn’t make sense to me then but now I understood what that meant - anybody could do what I did with just a few days of training. So what difference would I be able to make? Eventually, I would just be a memory, a name that might come up when months later, the slides I had created would be used. But that wasn’t enough. Perhaps this thought was what drove me to try and contribute further. Maybe the fact still remained – ‘Everyone is replaceable’ but no harm trying!

Any little step that would help unclutter a process, any idea that may perhaps help in more effective work or reducing timelines, any data that would help understand our clients better. The ideas were definitely coming, but putting it to good use is always the challenging part. You need a Boss who was willing to (first) hear your idea and your rationale and then put it to use, atleast on a Trial mode. I was blessed with someone who not only trusted my abilities but also was ready to take a fall in case, some of them didn’t work. Also, my entire team which was exactly what it was – A team in the true sense of the word.

Over the course of my three years I was polished, tempered and filed. I learnt where to channel my energy and where to ignore. I learnt that to be a professional, you not only had to do your job well, but also do it right and with a honest conscience. And this, I will very much carry with me wherever I go.

It is said that your first job always leaves a mark. Mine’s left an entire encyclopedia.

The Birthday Gift

Sanju could not contain his excitement. It was his birthday today and he knew Vivek Uncle would surely give him a gift. That was always the case for the past 8 years. With great fondness, he wiped clean the Harmonica uncle had gifted him last birthday. He ran his small hands over the words etched on the blue steel surface – ‘Wishing the best to my dear Sanju: Love Vivek Uncle’. Playing the Harmonica had always brought a smile on his mother’s face. Quickly he ran to his mom and kissed her cheek.

As soon as she saw Sanju, she hugged her with her dough-smudged hands and kissed him until his face was bright red. He whined playfully and ran to the garden. Today was going to be a busy day and he already had a list of things to do in his mind.  Time passed, and he sat at the porch waiting. Right when he was about to give up he heard the sound of a car turning in the street. He jumped towards the gate and waited with bated breath for his Birthday wish.

‘Happy Birthday Sanju’, uncle said, planting a kiss on his forehead. ‘So don’t you want your Birthday Gift’, he asked? Sanju nodded expectantly with a playful smile. The smile that reminded uncle about his son. With a tear in his eye, uncle opened the back of his car and Lo! Sanju could not believe it. Uncle had bought him a cycle, gleaming red and with a big ribbon and a tag with the words, ‘Wishing the best to my dear Sanju: Love Vivek Uncle’.

He called out to his mom to come see the cycle, who laughed softly seeing her little one dancing around the cycle in excitement. ‘No more walking to school for you’, Uncle had said. Sanju carefully removed the ribbon, placed it on the porch and gave uncle a long hug. And even as his mother was screaming at him to have breakfast and then leave, he sat on the cycle and speeded off. At a distance, he could hear his mother call out to him – ‘Take Care, Sanju’.

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Neha woke up cursing herself for getting up late. She was new in town and her mom had repeatedly asked her to go meet her uncle who stayed there for the past 30 years and had established himself as one of the best lawyers in town. She resented his questions and his opinions on things ranging from the color of Neha’s hair to what she should eat to remain fit in order to get a smart husband.

After much postponing, she realized she had better make a visit before uncle stormed into her flat and created a scene. She decided she’d be there in time for an early breakfast with her uncle so he would spare her the ‘Importance of Getting Up Early’ speech. To her dismay, she woke up at 10:00. She made a quick call to uncle and told him how she could not get out of the house early since her servant maid showed up after a week and so wanted to get the house clean. She promised him she would meet him for dinner. After a quick round of freshening up, she decided she would go buy something for uncle. After all, Uncle would be pleased that she got him something from her first salary. She decided to drive down so she could explore the town also a little bit and get acquainted with the places.

After a few wrong turns and confusing directions from the local people, Neha realized she was lost. She wanted to reach the bazaar and instead wound up in the middle of a farm lined with mango trees on both sides of the road. Of course, Google Maps didn’t work, thanks to the poor range in the area! She was a little worried but the cool breeze and the shade encouraged her to drive further down the road until she reached a small garage. Who better to guide you than the local garage- walas!

Just as she got down to ask for directions, she saw a small boy seated on a cycle, fidgeting with the handle. A gleaming red cycle. He seemed lost in his own thought. ‘How much does a boy under 10 years of have to worry about!!!’, she thought. Instantly, she felt the need to cheer him up a little. She went up to him and asked his name. ‘Sanju’, he said shyly. Neha found herself instantly attracted to his playful, yet reserved smile. She asked him what he was doing there alone. He simply looked at her and pointed to an old home on the other side of the road. ‘I want to watch a movie, but I don’t have company’, he said dully. The building seemed old and rusty. Neha couldn’t help feeling sorry for the boy. She thought for a while and said, ‘Ok, lets go! But what time’s the show?’ The little boy’s face instantly shone and he was excited. He held her hand and tugged her across the road saying – ‘Any minute now’. Neha laughed at his enthusiasm.

As soon as she reached the building she noticed it was empty. ‘Who would come all the way here to watch a movie!!’ – she wondered. Just as she thought that maybe the show was cancelled since there were no people, she heard the music from the screen. ‘Ok!! So tickets first and hopefully an icecream’ she said, winking at Sanju. He let out a cheerful laugh. They couldn’t find the ticket vendor and Sanju was growing impatient waiting to get a glimpse of the screen. After a full five minute hunt in the ground floor Neha decided she would come pay during the interval or after the movie was over. Afterall, what is the point in missing out the beginning!! She held Sanju’s hand and went in.

From the first scene, Sanju was animatedly cheering, singing the songs, and even saying most of the dialogues. Neha could not get enough of his smile. She sat there, with no interest in the movie but all the while admiring this little boy. She felt an instant connection to him. Something like a special bond that demanded her to care for the little boy. And lost in her thoughts, she fell asleep.

A couple of minutes later, she woke up startled. For a minute, she didn’t know where she was or how much time had elapsed. And then things became clear. She looked up and saw the screen blank. Maybe the movie got over and she hadn’t even realized. Then she looked to her side. Where was Sanju? He did not wake her up and was not even in his seat. Did he just leave her and go? Did he wander off somewhere else? Neha felt responsible for the boy. She sprang for the seat and searched for Sanju in the entire building calling out his name but he was nowhere to be found.

She rushed out of the building, crossed the road and went to the garage. An old man in his fifties was lying on a makeshift cot taking a nap. She nudged him slowly and asked if he saw a small boy coming out of the theatre. The man looked at her, puzzled. ‘A red cycle’ she said. A gleaming red cycle. That’s when it struck the man. He looked at her and gave a subtle smile. A smile that failed to cover the tears forming in his eyes. Neha sensed something was not right. She asked him what was wrong and what she heard seemed impossible.

Sanju had driven to the garage in his cycle on his birthday. He wanted to show baba what uncle had given him. As soon as Baba saw the cycle he was very happy. He wished him a very happy birthday and asked him what he wanted as a gift. Sanju pointed to the theatre. Please Baba. You promised me I could see a movie today. Smiling Baba nodded his head and went inside the garage to make sure everything was locked before he left with his son. And that’s when it happened. It was a white car and the driver, a college boy perhaps, was driving to face to impress his girlfriend. What he hadn’t noticed was a small boy crossing the road to watch a movie on his theatre. It all happened too fast. After that, all Baba could remember was tiny Sanju in his arms soaked in blood. It was eight years and yet the memories seemed so fresh.

Neha listened to all this with shock. She couldn’t believe the man was telling her and yet, looking at him she realized no one could lie about their son. She softly asked him if she could see a picture of his son. ‘Oh I have an entire album that I keep flipping over and over!’, he said with tears rolling in his eyes. Neha reluctantly opened the cover with trembling hands half expecting to see a face she was not familiar with. Yet, he was there. Sanju and his playful smile. The smile that drew her to him. And she couldn’t bear to be there anymore. She contemplated asking Baba if she could have one of his photos for herself. She didn’t need one though, since he was already etched in her memories. She didn’t know what to say. All she could do was tap his shoulder and drive away looking for the bazaar.