The old Familiar Faces-3 (Dr.Sagayam)

My father is so famous in our area that even before reaching the hospital at least two-three uncles would stop us and would enquire us where we were going. My father would answer everyone patiently and would wave back at the random people who had waved at him. Finally when we would reach the hospital, there wouldn't be any patients. Unlike Dr. Suresh's clinic, we had a special privilege. We could call Dr.Sagayam from the antechamber. His clinic was technically a part of his house. He would never deny our calls of distress. Time is immaterial for him.

My dad would call out, "Doctor sir...." Within a wink's time there would come his reply... "Coming... coming... Be seated!!!"

I had never felt even a speck of irritation in his voice in spite of our untimely disturbances. He would take some 15mins to come out. Until then my dad would be flipping through the pages of the old magazines kept on the brown teapoy; I, a wimpy wompy kid, having nothing in particular to do would be looking at the various charts hung on the wall. 

When he would come out with his stethoscope dangling around his neck, I would think, "Doesn't he sleep at nights? Whenever we come, he shows up with his steth and goddamn syringe to jab me with." My dad... He would look at me with an indignant look and I would request him for one last time But his impatient glare would be the ultimate answer. Then I would follow meekly. 

"Good evening, sir.." my dad would wish him and eyeing me to do the same. "Good evening! Who is my patient here?" He would ask with his humourous tone seeing from me to my dad. Then my dad would give a pat on my back to show it was me. I would look exactly like a scapegoat visualising the bitter scene— the doctor jabbing me with his syringe for the hundredth time. 

But his smile, would be a soulful one which would at once let me feel at ease. Unlike other doctors, he would take immense time in making up the mind of his patients. Starting from asking questions to my father, he would slowly turn that into an engrossing debate that I myself would join them gradually. After extracting the needed information regarding my health, he would stand up and would go to his secret chamber— "room of secret" (as I used to mention it) where all the medical apparatuses would be kept. 

Tsss... he would load the syringe with an ampule. Slowly.... slowly and deliberately he would pull back on the syringe and would near me like a butcher to a goat. My tongue would go dry and salty tears would trickle down in no time. My dad would turn into a monster dad for a millisecond and let the doctor accomplish the task. "Mmmmmaaaaa ......", I would scream miserably. ( The doctor would give a mission accomplished!!! look) My dad would shut my mouth with his palm; thank him with due respect. 

Then Dr.Sagayam would give me a hardboiled orange candy as if nothing had happened. I would force a smile across my face; my dad would clutch the prescription with reverence as if a panacea for my illness had been found! Then both would thank him in our own ways. He, in turn would wave his hands and would say "Don't come again" showing his gapped pearl like teeth in a wide grin. 

Those were the days.... I was an innocent girl, fearing doctors and their injections. It's indeed funny to recollect them now. The jab of Dr.Sagayam's syringe might be bitter but the time he spent with us, his honey-coated words of love and care were so heartening. Being a doctor is something more then what we expect. NEET or other such exams may test one's IQ but they will fail miserably in testing one's EQ

(The End-1)