Rituals done, it was time to gyrate; as the DJ swung into action, the air reverberated with the strains of Desi Girl. Sanjay’s enthusiasm was infectious.
After a couple of chilled beers, Gautam too took to the dance floor with a vengeance but made sure to avoid ‘snooty’ Sameera. Somehow, the more he wanted to ignore her, the more he found himself seeking her out in the crowd. The fact that she seemed oblivious to his existence annoyed him. He could see her in the far corner, lip syncing and dancing among a gaggle of girls. Her sexy moves, Bollywood style latkas and jhatkas gave her an incredible sensual appeal, but the moment any boy tried to dance with her, she would freeze and excuse herself. Her friends seemed to form a protective circle around her.
Who the hell does she think she is? And why don’t her loyal bodyguards drill some modesty into her instead of encouraging her? Do they think she’s too good for all the boys here? His own friends drooled over her but she kept her distance; he was exasperated at the attention she was getting but he tried not to let it affect his evening. He was determined to have a good time and quit the floor only when Punjabi uncles started their gyrations on it, whiskey glasses balanced precariously on their heads.
The evening wore on. Gautam sat at the bar with Rohan and Mihir chatting about the events of the day.
Sameera and some other girls came their way and one of them asked, “Would you guys mind if we sit here?”
“It’s a free country. I would not risk trying to tell a bunch of girls what they may or may not do.” Gautam threw his customary caution to the winds.
“Sameera, the elusive ‘poor guy’ can also talk,” said one of the girls.
“Sameera, you don’t know what a chupa rustam our Gautam is,” said Mihir. “Allow me to introduce you to the many wonders of our friend here. One look at him and you know he’s a handsome dude. Speak to him for a minute and you will know how intelligent he is. He works harder and smarter than all of us put together. Always been a winner—first in class—teachers’ favorite plus an artful debater, master at quizzing besides being the fastest bowler, and the captain of the school cricket team. His best quality of course is the effect he has on pretty girls.”
“What a terrific story.” Sameera looked directly at him and continued, “If one were to believe them, you would be perfection personified, too good to be true.” Gautam was spellbound under her scrutiny. She turned towards his friends, “Rohan, Mihir are you guys sure he actually exists and is not some mystical creature?”
Gautam stared back at her, desperate to score a hit. “People should keep their prejudices to themselves rather than air them in public. Girls like you should know that.”
Surprised by Gautam’s vitriolic reply, Rohan and Mihir exchanged sly glances.
Sameera was unfazed. “You seem to have a PhD in ‘girls like me’. But then, by your age, you must have met so many girls. What am I, according to you? Do educate us.”
Sameera’s friends had never seen her engage in such verbal duels.
Gautam laughed. “Decoding you should be a no-brainer. Let me see. Judging by your attire, you have wealthy, indulgent parents. You have a job to earn pocket money, and more importantly, to lend an air of independence around you. Glamor attracts you and yes, you do seem to have a way with words. My guess is that you work in some creative firm like an advertising agency or an art gallery. And of course, deciding what to wear could be one of the most stressful activities in your life. Correct me if I am wrong.”
Sameera raised her hand to silence her friends; she held his gaze as she calmly replied, “Perfect score. You must be a face reader. If your investment banking fails, you could become a fortune teller at any railway station in Mumbai.”
She walked off with her entourage, leaving behind a confused, annoyed and visibly red-faced Gautam.
“What the hell was that?”
“You seem to have pressed the wrong buttons, yaar,” said Rohan.
“It’s a mistake to engage with this mad woman. She sure knows how to spoil my mood completely. Curse Sanjay for getting me into this mess. Come five-thirty tomorrow morning and I’ll be off to Mumbai, to my work, to my world.”
≈
FOUR
Back in Mumbai, Gautam plunged into work. With a huge merger proposal due for presentation, there was little else he could do. Life revolved around three hours of sleep, push-ups on the office floor, innumerable cups of vending machine coffee, and Domino’s Pizza. His whole team toiled together, their camaraderie sealed as they all struggled to stay afloat. Sometimes he wondered if it would be easier to just curl up and sleep at the office rather than navigate hazardous Mumbai roads made even more treacherous by the monsoons.
Sameera’s schedule was equally hectic. Her days were divided into two equally important halves—work and helping Tanya put together her trousseau. She also had to fix her own wardrobe for the wedding and work towards having a more toned body for the Goa bash. Life was a constant whirl—work, Kaya skin clinic, Manish Malhotra’s design and fitting studio, aerobics and pilates classes, jewelry boutiques, shoes, bags and lingerie shopping and a hundred other sundry activities.
Gautam’s pace of work became even more frantic as the deadline loomed nearer. The whole team worked round the clock, living their life in the world of valuations, spreadsheets and discounted cash flow models. Quick decisions and the timely exchange of mail were crucial to the successful completion of their project; Gautam was frustrated at the delays and desperately needed to clear his head.
One especially frustrating day, he changed into his running shoes and announced, “I’m going for a run to get some fresh air. Anyone wants to come along?”
Someone laughed, “Fresh air in Mumbai? What a joke.”
His colleague Jai was equally enthusiastic about fitness and together they were off.
Each of them jogged at a steady pace, but lost in their own thoughts, neither noticed the truck coming from the other side. There was hardly any space to step aside on the narrow road barred to heavy vehicles.
Blinded by the sharp headlights, Gautam pushed Jai to the other side of the road and then, just in the nick of time, slammed himself against a wall with the truck whizzing past just inches away from him.
He used his hands to break the fall but his body plummeted into the concrete. It seemed as if his whole body had been ripped apart; he passed out before he could even understand which part hurt the most.
When he regained consciousness, he found himself on a stretcher carried by two policemen; Jai stood beside him.
As they put him in the ambulance, he managed to ask Jai, “Jai, are you all right?”
He nodded affirmatively.
“Then at least go back to the office immediately.”
One of the policemen laughed. “Let him work for some fancy foreign company while Indian police takes care of you, eh? Wah Jamai Raja. You’ve had an accident; we need him to fill out all the paperwork at the hospital.”
Jai said, “I’ve already called boss; he has already spoken to his doctor and asked me to take you directly to the hospital once the police work is sorted out. He may drop in later to check on you.”
“Never guessed he could be so humane,” muttered Gautam.
“Not humane, selfish,” grinned Jai, “you are too important to die right now.”
By the time Gautam was wheeled into the X-ray department of a swanky hospital, he was immobile with pain. He endured what seemed like hours of X-rays and examinations till he finally heard the doctor say, “Hello Gautam. I am Dr. Yogesh Sharma, orthopedic surgeon. You have a colles fracture, which is a fracture of the distal radius in the right forearm with dorsal displacement of the wrist and hand.”
Gautam’s head pounded at the medical gibberish.
“In layman terms, your right wrist is dislocated. This commonly occurs when you try to break your fall and end up falling on a hard surface with outstretched arms. Your wrist will have to be immobilized immediately by putting it in a cast for at l
east four weeks after which we can review your condition. In the meanwhile, don’t bend your wrist and avoid driving, household chores and even showering and dressing on your own. Your knee has severe ligament injury, but again, physiotherapy and painkillers will take care of it. Do you know any physiotherapists?”
Gautam shook his head.
“In that case let me recommend Dr. Mathur. My assistant will give you the number and you can directly connect with the physio clinic. Since you had a concussion too, I would advise complete bed rest for a couple of days and then start the therapy. Now let’s get the cast on. Any questions?”
“Can I go to the office?”
“Yes, if your office has a comfortable bed and an attentive nurse. All you need is complete rest. I don’t really care where you choose to do it.”
“Can I at least work on my laptop?”
“Definitely, the left hand is all yours.”
≈
FIVE
At home, he was greeted by Gopal, his trusted help since birth. His team members and some others from the office came to check on him, but Gopal was very protective of Gautam and urged most of the visitors to just say hello and leave so that Gautam baba could get enough rest.
After complete bed rest for a couple of days, Gautam hobbled into Dr. Mathur’s physiotherapy clinic with Gopal’s help. He was still very sore and uncomfortable. With his right hand in a cast, he was clumsily flipping through a magazine when a matronly nurse announced that Dr. Mathur would see him.
He found himself in a big, sunny room with textured white walls; numerous brightly colored abstract paintings lined the walls in rich, thick frames. Erica palm and frangipani in gleaming brass pots soothed the eyes. The room had various kinds of equipment arranged in neat clusters. Oriental screens provided privacy to several sections; a wind chime swung by the window and soft soothing music played in the background. There was a dark mahogany table, bare except for several pictures facing away from him. The atmosphere was serene and had a calming effect on Gautam.
The nurse went ahead to help the previous patient leave the room while the doctor walked towards Gautam. He looked up and stopped breathing. Was he hallucinating? Standing before him, tall and straight, looking as gorgeous as ever, was Sameera. He opened his mouth but couldn’t speak till shock gave way to irritation and he blurted out, “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Well, I am Dr. Sameera Mathur and this is my clinic. You apparently have an appointment with me.” She looked quite astonished to see him too but not half as irate. Her tone was professional. “A patient-therapist relationship is based on respect and trust, but since that may not be the case here, you are most welcome to go elsewhere.” She sighed audibly. “I had no idea it was you when Dr. Yogesh called. Anyway, you look pretty bad and your treatment should start without any delay so I could refer you to my colleague.”
***
When Gautam opened his eyes, he found himself in a strange place, lying on a narrow bed while an unknown woman tried to make him sip a strange pink concoction. His left arm was clasped in a tight grip. As his vision and brain cleared he realized that a nurse was asking him to sip some Rooh Afza while Sameera checked his blood pressure.
“What happened?” Gautam was bewildered.
“When you figured out that I was the doctor, you passed out.” Sameera smiled. “It’s normal to pass out due to intense pain but your vital symptoms are fine; I have given you some pain killers intravenously, you should feel better soon.”
Her brow creased in concentration as she unstrapped the BP machine from his arm. “I really need to readjust your sling so that your cast is supported well. And, please allow me to give you a session of radiotherapy for your knee. If you faint again, you may fall on your wrist and we cannot risk that again. My colleague is on leave today and as a doctor I would strongly recommend you to start right away. But you are free to decide.”
His whole body was already injured; by fainting in front of Sameera, he had added insult to injury. There was no way he could allow her to treat him or help him in any way. Didn’t he have enough on his plate already without having to deal with the one person he was most keen to avoid? Could a scatterbrain like her actually treat him? God.
The turn of events in the last few days had been more dramatic than any Ekta Kapoor serial; he feared for his physical well-being with her in charge, and he was hugely indignant that his judgment about her profession was completely off the mark. This could be the beginning of another disaster; he ought to nip it in the bud this time. She had a knack of bringing out the worst in him. Had he ever felt such overwhelming and contradictory emotions towards anyone? He always took pride in being stoic and keeping his thoughts to himself but with her, he seemed to blurt out everything, quite rudely too, and considering how wrong he was, he had made an utter fool of himself. It was better to walk out and avoid further showdowns that he knew lurked around the corner.
He tried sitting up.
“I’m sorry to disturb you. As I understand, you already have a busy schedule and I don’t want to burden you unnecessarily.”
“Gautam Baba, chup raho. Doctor Saheb, please do whatever you have to do. His parents are not here right now but they have entrusted him to me and I am sure he needs to stay here.”
This was the first time Gopal had spoken against Gautam’s wishes. He was already dizzy trying to sit up and was too exhausted to explain his situation to Gopal, especially in her presence. His body and finally his mind surrendered to the situation.
≈
SIX
While the nurse continued to prepare the instruments that would be needed, Sameera went through the X-rays and other medical reports along with the orthopedic surgeon’s prescriptions.
She glanced at Gautam. She was used to seeing patients in much worse condition and though she would treat them with empathy, she would always retain her composure. The effect he had on her, on the other hand, was quite unusual. Her heart was beating rapidly as if she herself was in some sort of agony. Deep in her heart, she was glad that he had come here and that she could help him, but then, wasn’t she trained for this? After all, he was no stranger, though their first meeting was far from pleasant. She could not avert her gaze; her eyes lingered on him. He was so stern and aloof in Delhi but now, in his khaki shorts and blue linen shirt, lying on the cot in obvious pain, he looked not only young and vulnerable but incredibly handsome. The ruffled curly hair, messy stubble and casual clothes lent him a boyish charm. He looked much more real and she was captivated by his big, brown, melting eyes. How come I did not notice his eyes in Delhi?
Her patient groaned.
Sameera found her nurse staring at her with a bewildered look. Though it was impossible for the nurse to read her thoughts, she was embarrassed. This was truly exceptional. This rude, arrogant guy who obviously did not hold her in high esteem and was desperate to get away from her clinic had set her heart aflutter. She was determined to keep things strictly professional.
As she regained her composure, she sat down near Gautam, gently touching his knee. “This will not hurt, just relax and don’t think about anything. I will start very slowly. Today, I’ll just treat your knee for the pain and the swelling. I am putting a gel on your knee so that the instrument is lubricated and does not cause friction.” Gautam nodded. “Now, I will gently move this metal plate on your knee. This is called short wave diathermy where the temperature will be greatly increased in your tissues by oscillating electric current of very high frequency. This will help ease your pain just like a hot water bag, but more effectively. Please tell me if you feel any discomfort.” Gautam nodded mutely again.
Sameera continued the therapy gently for ten minutes. Then she felt his ankles with her long slender fingers, touching so softly that he could hardly register the touch except for the flutter it set off in his heart. She repeated the therapy on his ankles. The effect was soothing; his eyes felt heavy with sleep.
“Done.” Sameera slid one ha
nd behind his back, the other behind his shoulder and expertly helped him sit up.
This time, he was surprised at her strength. She looked too delicate and fragile to be able to handle a big man like him so comfortably. Meticulously, she untied the sling which held the cast in his right arm and then deftly retied it, explaining the exact position in which it should be carried to provide maximum support.
Gautam reluctantly admitted to himself that she was not bad at her work; in fact she seemed to know what she was doing. Her touch was light as a feather and soothed his skin like a balm. Her movements were gentle and swift. He felt no pain. She could handle him all alone and spoke softly yet so firmly that it left no room for dissent. This was her turf and she was in complete control. He could not believe that she was the same Sameera he had met a couple of weeks ago. How could one person be so different in two settings? Was it really her?
“Would you like to come back tomorrow?”
“No, I definitely would not like to come back tomorrow. Why would anyone like to come here?” Gautam was taken aback by his own irate tone and caustic reaction. Just her presence transformed him into some kind of a monster.
“Sorry. That is not what I meant; of course you would never want to come here if you could. But, you will need several more therapy sessions before you can get back to work and normalcy.”
Gautam felt like an errant child and could not bring himself to meet her eyes. He could have handled it better if she had snapped back at him.
“Right now, you are really sore. Please rest and I will try to get you an appointment with my colleague for tomorrow. My nurse will call and confirm in the morning. In the meantime, remember to keep your arm absolutely still and restrict movement as much as possible. Take your painkillers, take care, and try to relax.” She turned around and walked off.
Yours Accidentally Page 2