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Authors: Madhur Nevatia

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THREE

 

 

The party
was in full swing by the time he reached the main hall. The bar was crowded; he
spotted Sanjay’s father bellowing instructions to an Indianized Jeeves in a
ridiculous black tailcoat. He went up to greet him and was engulfed in a big
embrace.

“Gautam, my
boy, I’m thrilled to see you here.”

Gautam
struggled to free himself from the bear hug.

“I keep
hearing good things about you from Sanjay. Working very hard, I hear. That’s
good. Remember,
beta
, hard work is the key to success. Look at me. In my
youth I used to work fourteen hours straight and see where I am now. Sanjay’s
mother wanted to meet you. Wait. Ah. There she is.”

“Hello
Aunty, how are you?”

Before
Sanjay’s mother could respond, Rohan erupted on the scene and pulled him away,
“There you are. Just in time. Sanjay’s been looking for you,
yaar
.”

Relieved at
escaping a second verbal barrage, Gautam turned towards the bar, “Let me
quickly get a drink first; I’ll join you in a minute.” Standing at the bar,
with a chilled beer in his hand, he looked around. The whole place, with its
plush carpeting, elaborate chandeliers and imported flowers, looked immaculate;
he felt genuinely happy for his friend. Gautam was determined to have a good time
for his sake.

A booming
voice drew his attention to the ceremony at hand. “Ladies and gentlemen, uncles
and aunties, granddads and grandmoms, brothers and sisters, the grand moment we
have been eagerly awaiting is finally here. Sanjay and Tanya are going to
exchange rings either as a token of their commitment and undying love for each
other or under extreme pressure from their families. The ring ceremony is about
to begin.”
Same old corny jokes,
thought Gautam as he made his way
through the crowd and took his place near Sanjay’s colossal throne. Tanya
looked like an exquisite porcelain doll, a vision in soft pink and purple;
hundreds of Swarovski crystals glittered on the veil and delicate silver
embroidery and encrusted stones adorned the outfit. Sanjay looked dashing in a
deep navy blue suit.

But Gautam’s
eyes were riveted on Sameera and her understated look in a simple, silver-colored
mermaid cut
lehenga
and corset blouse. Tall and radiant, she looked a like
a billion bucks. He quickly averted his gaze and tried to join in the playful
banter around Sanjay as they exchanged rings.

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 least 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.


BOOK: Yours Accidentally
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