Between thoughts and words

(This is based on a true story and some parts are fictionalised. I leave it to you to decide which one is what.)  I stood next to the window in the dining room adjacent to the clinic space and watched outside. Lucky, the white coloured stray dog which had adopted the clinic as its home was lying in the grass and sunbathing. Just beyond the fence three women were working on the field, planting watermelon seeds. Their slow rhythmic movements reaching into the vessel containing the seeds and sowing them on the ground was synchronised perfectly. It was like a gentle rhythmic dance. I was sipping on my coffee. It was not a particularly flavourful coffee. We buy 200 ml of milk from which the entire clinic staff (all six of us) have our break time coffee made from instant coffee powder. More than nourishment or flavour, the coffee served the purpose of a little break in the middle of a hectic clinic and so it just did not matter. As I stood watching the scenery from the window, a giraffe ...

"Sister, could you please hand me the Normal Saline solution?" I called out to the staff nurse on duty. I was dressing the foot ulcer of Mr. R. He had gone to work on his groundnut fields last week, barefoot. A stray thorn had pricked the left foot. What started as a small blister the next day had developed into a deep ulcer. Fortunately, it was not infected. I was cleaning it up and applying a clean saline dressing.  "Doctor, I need some urgent change. Do you happen to have 20 rupees on you?", the nurse asked.  "I have exactly 20 rupees in my shirt pocket. However, that is all the money I have now. You have to give it back to me by evening, otherwise I will not have cash to pay for my bus ticket." I said and continued, "take it out from my pocket yourself" and I bent down so that she could reach into my pocket and take the cash, as I was wearing gloves and did not want to dirty my shirt pocket.  Mr. R and I go a long way. He came to me seven yea...

Mr. U is a Malayali gentleman settled in Tamil Nadu for more than 40 years now. He speaks Tamil with such a beautiful Malayali accent, that it sounds like poetry. He retired from a very important position in a central government organisation. You can feel the sense of pride and responsibility of having been in an important post in the way Mr. U dresses, walks, talks and carries himself.  "You won't mistake me if I ask you a few questions, would you?" He would preface his interaction after the clinical encounter with this question. After I say that it is not at all a problem, Mr. U would take out a small pocket-notebook and flip a few pages and start the questions, which he would have jotted down in it-  "Doctor, I like to eat fish curry at least 2-3 times a week. Is that alright? Will it affect my blood sugar control?" "When my grandchildren are visiting our home, my wife makes some sweets for them. I am unable to resist the temptation to taste them. Can yo...