THAT’S LIFE Sanjoy Kumar Satpathy
One morning, doctor sahib was getting ready for his duty when the doorbell rang …
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For some strange reason, doctors everywhere are known by strange names. Names are given to them based on their appearance, attitude or behavior. Patients call them as bangru daktor (short doctor), grey haired doctor, byaasta daktor (busy doctor), tinga daktor (angry doctor), legda dactor (limping doctor), miser doctor, or phutania doctor (proud doctor).
Nurses too have their own coded names for different doctors which they share among them during their tiffin time.
Doctor Sarat, one of the old stock, had many such names. He knew what people called him, but took it in his stride as left-handed compliments. He was disciplined, punctual and sincere in his job. One morning, doctor sahib was getting ready for his duty when the doorbell rang.
His wife Arpita opened the main door and found two people standing near the verandah. She asked, “Who are you, and why are you here? You know very well doctor does not allow consultations at home?” Arpita also knew the doctor never took gifts from patients. She would be fired if she accepts gift from such strangers coming home. Now, one of the two was holding a fresh earthen pot with saal leaves wrapped around its mouth, and tied with a jute thread. “This is for dactor sahib, maa please accept it, and we have come all the way from Sundargarh. Dactor babu has saved our family, please accept this.”
“Doctor is taking bath. I will tell him,” Arpita said.
“We would come in another ten minutes and meet the dactor. We would not disturb you further,” they said.
Arpita was undecided. Then, she hesitantly took and kept it on the dining table. It was quite heavy. Must be freshly prepared rasgulla — the smell said it all, she thought to herself.
After a while, doctor Sarat came out smartly dressed. “Who were those fellows here?”
“They brought some gift for you but refused to take it back in spite of my repeated pleadings. You tell me what I could have done in this situation? Those poor fellows had come from a long distance. It’s there on the table.”
“That was wrong, you should have refused.” While taking his breakfast, doctor sahib asked his wife to distribute the sweets to neighbours and keep some for his brother-in-law who was very fond of quality sweets.
Arpita went out to see off Doctor Sarat and help him in taking out the car from the garage. Those two men with bags in their hands looked at the doctor and said, “Juhar dactor babu.” Sarat got into the car and swerved it on his way to hospital as he was already getting late. The two strangers wanted to tell something to the doctor but could not.
“Maa, there was a mistake on our part. Your husband is not the doctor for whom we brought the sweets; he is a ‘family doctor’. Actually, after three daughters, we had a son which the ‘family doctor’ delivered through operation. Or else, my wife and son both would have been dead.”
Arpita was furious and abused them in no uncertain terms. “You asked me the doctor’s name and I told you SR Padhi and you said, Maa, he is our doctor!”
“Is this A/26 quarter?” They asked again.
“No. it’s A/21, not 26. Your ‘family doctor’ stays one row behind and his name is SK Padhi, a gynecologist; not SR Padhi.”
“Sorry, Maa. We read 21 as 26, and both names end with Padhi. It was not our fault. Please return us the pot and we would take it to our family doctor.” The blue shirt fellow who had handed over the rasgulla handi to Arpita asked her to bring the container as it was and hand it over to them.
Arpita was furious, boiling inside, as half an hour of her morning time had gone for nothing and she was getting late for her school. For a moment, she thought of unleashing her Alsatian or dropping the pot in front of those two strangers. She controlled her anger and gave back the rasgulla handi.
During evening snacks time, SR Padhi, while taking masala mudhi asked Arpita to give him a piece of Sundargarh sweet. Arpita laughed so loudly that their pet dog started barking for the unusual behavior of her mistress.
“The pot was meant for a ‘family doctor’, not for medicine specialists. You did a post graduation in a wrong subject. You only treat elderly people, which the relatives do not appreciate much, because it’s like bringing back an old car from garage after repair. But your friend SK Padhi brings fresh and new life and also destroys the unborn hence they have a market value and they are all byasta doctor, right?”
“It’s good that those sweets have gone to another place that has a strong family background of diabetes,” the doctor said.
“I have spent most part of my career without taking a bribe. Hence, I have no house to stay after my retirement. I have neither regrets nor repentance in life. Life goes on. It is the mental satisfaction which is important to me, not the materialistic pleasures like gifts taken through unethical means. Give me some more cucumber. Just look at the TV screen. Those two large eyes are looking at us.” SRPadhi went on in his nonstop narration while his wife sat by his side, musing, “Grapes are sour for some.”
