Reform

The only thing that would have been more incongruous than Rohit exiting his premium brand SUV in the parking area of a government hospital intended for low-income group citizens would have been a lion eating popcorn while watching a movie in a theatre. He was confused at first at the lack of parallel lines to mark the boundaries, but assumed it was fair to park between two automobiles parked in that area. Nor was he sure that it was the parking lot, but it didn’t matter as no one stopped him.

As he stepped out of his vehicle and wore his designer sunglasses, the guard who was hovering in the area gave a quick salute. To the guard, the car signified status and therefore, Rohit had to be someone big, probably a politician’s son trying to make himself visible to the public by visiting an ailing or injured grassroots party worker.

“Blood bank?” Rohit asked the guard.

“That way, sir. Past the canteen.”

Rohit took the pointed way and walked with quick steps in an apparent effort to get the matter done with quickly. Little did he know about the hospital. The phone rang.

“Yo, wassup, Felix?”

“Ro bro, where are you?” Rohit’s grandfather would have turned in his grave had he been buried. Rohitashwa had lent his name to his grandson, named Rohit – short and sweet, and apparently modern – by his doting parents, and the child’s friends had smoothened it down to Ro.

Without breaking pace, Rohit continued his walk to the blood bank. “The hospital. Remember, I lost the bet and must do a good deed for the day? Some guy contacted me and said there was a requirement. I should be in and out in quick time, I guess.”

“Dude, I feel sorry for you. Anyway, the stuff is arriving tonight. It is said to be premium grade. At the stroke of 8, we hand over 10 thou in cash and pick it up.” Felix wasn’t really sorry, he was just concerned about missing out the ‘recreational ingestion agent’ that he and his friends were looking forward to use.

At this point, it may be superfluous to mention that Rohit was rolling in money, presumably his parents’, and his friends were not starving either. It was sort of understood that Rohit had more money than the rest and he normally funded the weekend activities which normally took place the safe grounds of his parents’ farmhouse at the beach.

“See, Felix, I am supposed to be clean for 24 hours after the blood donation, so we can have our jaunt tomorrow.”

“That sucks, bro. If we gotta wait, we gotta wait. It is OK. Hey, by the way, do you know if the needles at the hospital are safe?” A question asked out of concern that he might share a needle later with Rohit.

Rohit smiled. “What do you suggest? I carry my own?” Both had a good laugh over the joke. “Hey, listen, I have reached and need to hang up. Will text later. Ask the boys to hang on till tomorrow. And don’t worry. I have the 10 thou in my pocket.” Sure, the boys will hang on; they don’t have anything else to do.

Rohit was asked to wait ‘outside’ after the perfunctory jab on the finger for testing. He realised it was going to be a long wait after looking at the number of those waiting ahead of him and the fact that the blood bank has just one bed for blood extraction.

“Who is Rohit?” A feeble voice asked in the general direction of the waiting people. Most of those who heard the voice looked among themselves, but Rohit arose.

The lady came near and spoke in a voice that only Rohit could hear. “Rohit? Thank you. The surgery was getting postponed because of lack of blood. You have made it possible. Is there somewhere we can sit? Ah, there! Sorry, I can’t stand for long.”

“Who is the patient? What surgery is it?” Not that Rohit wanted to know but seemed to be the right thing to ask.

“Ladies problem surgery. With God’s grace, they should fix the date and everything will go on well.”

It was then that Rohit noticed the blue ‘port’ sticking out of the back of her right palm. The ‘port’ was for drawing blood or injecting nutrients and medicines.

“You… you are the patient? Why are you here? Where is your attender?”

“My daughter had to go to work. As to the others, I would like to laugh, but it would hurt me. I don’t know why I am telling you all this, hope you don’t mind. My husband? If he were here, he would be asking you for money right now telling you some sob story about how his mother died. Just so that he can hit the nearest liquor shop and stay drunk. And my son is busy.” The lady let out a long sigh. “He is busy garlanding his hero’s cut-out at the nearest movie theatre. You know, if he does it, the movie will be a hit. Or, at least that is what he thinks.”

She continued. “Look at me. I am talking non-stop. Can I get you something? Maybe a juice from the canteen?”

“No no, I am fine. I just had a good meal. Please, you don’t have to go.” Feelings of sympathy were a bit new to Rohit and he was getting to realise that despite what started to be a boring rant, he was giving her a vent to her frustrations.

“Look at you. You are about as old as my son – 22, 23? – and look at how responsible you are. Coming all the way to help a stranger. And look at the men in my family – always looking for the next kick. Is the hero going to feed my family if I am sick? Sorry, I have no one else to talk to. My daughter is good, but I don’t want to burden her more.”

“No no, it is OK.” Not that the lady wanted assurance.

She caught her breath and resumed, “I had saved up money 8000-odd for a rainy day, which is today – when I would not be able to work, and we will still need to feed ourselves. I had hidden it in parts in cubbyholes around the house and you know what? One day, I find all of them gone – each one of the cubbyholes is missing my money. My drunkard of a husband used it up in a week and the wastrel of my son bought milk for the remaining amount to pour over his hero’s cut-out on the day of the movie release. And, they are not on talking terms because each is accusing the other of stealing his money. Their money! When was it their money?”

A ward boy came along from the staircase and called out to the lady. “You, aren’t you the patient from ward 201? They want you for the scan. What are you doing here?”

The lady wearily, but steadily got up from her seat and turned around to Rohit. “I don’t know who you are, I don’t know if I will meet you again. I thank you for this from the bottom of my heart. Your mother must be blessed to have a good son like you. Enough of me. You will be relieved to see me go.”

“No no, nothing like that,” said Rohit without realising it was the third time he said that in the entire conversation. Impulsively, something triggered him and he pulled out the 10 thousand he had. “If you don’t mind, please have this. I am giving this since you lost your hard-earned money.”

She protested, but Rohit managed to thrust it into her left hand. “I am taking this as a Godsend. It is going to feed my house for the next two months – if I can keep it safe. It may take a long time, but I will pay you back. No, no, I will. My daughter has your number. I have to go. I thought my tears had dried up, but..” She turned around and walked back slowly towards the stairs.

“Rohiiit!” Ah, finally his turn on the bed.

Twenty-five minutes later, Rohit was back in his car feeling a bit light-headed. He was not sure if it was the loss of blood or the thrill of seeing a patient’s gratitude. It was a high he had never experienced before. Rohit rested for about minute before deftly swinging the car out of its place, this time waving back to the guard who saluted him.

Still confused how 10000 could feed a family for two months, he asked his mobile assistant to read out the messages. The key one was from Felix who had asked for a call back.

“Ro bro,” he responded, “deed for the day done? Good. As the saying goes, you are the man now, dog! Ha ha! OK, back to business. You are to drive by PS Nagar Metro Station at 5 PM. Yeah, time changed. A guy with a description I will send later will flag down for a lift. He will ask to be dropped at KV Colony Metro. By the time he gets off, your wad of notes will be with him, and the stuff will be in your car. No talking. Understood?”

“All this is fine, but I don’t have the cash. Yeah, yeah, don’t scream. I gave it to the lady for whom I donated blood. She seemed to need it more than I did.”

“Needy, my dog poo!” Felix was unamused. “For all you know, she may have been faking it for your sympathy and you fell hook, line and sinker. Do you realise how gullible you are, not knowing the real from fake?”

“Calm down, Felix. Tell the guys we will do it some other time. No, I can’t ask my folks for more cash today. We will meet tomorrow evening at Hot Spot, grab some bites and drive down to the farm-house.”

“And then what? Nibble on some peanuts? Not cool, bro. This is not fun.”

Rohit inhaled deeply. “Are you saying you guys don’t want to join if the stuff is not there?”

“That is true. What would be the point?”

“Ah, good. Thanks for clarifying. You are right about me being unable to separate the real from the fake. I don’t know if that woman was a fake, but I know who is. Thanks for all the fish, guys.”