The Old Familiar Faces - 2 (Dr.Sagayam)

" After a fortnight of sleepless nights, I had a sound sleep last night, thanks to Dr.Suresh, dad" said my sister. "I don't know why... his medicines have way with me, it seems", she added excitedly. "But his medicines would cost you an arm and a leg; young but too money minded; learned but not so experienced." My father contrasted her. As I was out of earshot, I couldn't hear fully but I could hear him concluding, "Whoever may come, Dr.Sagayam is the best." 

My memories spiralled back to the childhood days . Dr.SAGAYAM, an integral part of my childhood-- The man clad in white shirt and black pants with his stethoscope dangling around his neck. His stout physique, grim face and bald head with sparse growth of grey hair made him look peculiar. 

His clinic was just twenty steps away from my house. It was another peculiarity-- a dimly lit tunnel leading to an antechamber with two wooden benches near the entrance. Unlike Dr.Suresh' clinic, there wouldn't be any pompous display. Some charts displaying human anatomy and a huge Cuckoo-clock. That was my childhood obsession. Once in every hour a sparrow would peep out to announce the time. I still remember how bitterly I cried asking for the clock. (But in vain)

Whenever I would catch a cold or fever I would be dragged to his clinic. I would crib, I would scream, I would whine, I would beg my dad not to take me to the clinic. But my dad would be as firm as a rock. "Come with me now, I'll buy Hajmola candies for you", he would try to convince. Though I would fancy that, my brain would remind me the pricking pain of  his injection and would protest, "He will inject.. It will be paining.. I won't come." By then my father would lose his temper and come down heavily on me. That's the end of my tantrums. No guts, left to answer back.. simply to follow my dad with my stifled tears.  

(To be continued...)