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‘What? The patients?’
‘Yes, yes,’ said Ravi Singh, ‘in fact, Sharda Aunty, the diabetes patient,’ he said, as if I would know her, ‘even pretended to have a fainting fit last night just to make sure they wouldn’t discharge her.’
‘Why?’
‘Just so that she can stay!’ chipped in the pretty nurse.
‘And do what?’ I asked, weakly.
‘See if you get the doctor and,’ she added ruefully, ‘then she can make some money.’
I was feeling very, very faint.
1.00 p.m.
‘Vik,’ I hissed into the phone.
‘Bhabhi,’ he hissed back. Right after my heart, this man, I thought warmly to myself.
‘Any news?’
‘No, Bhai has been in the OT the entire day.’
Today is the day we put our plan into action. To facilitate ease of communication, a WhatsApp group – rather optimistically titled ‘Mission (Let’s make it) Possible’ – has been created. We have been buzzing each other on the group the whole day and it is clear that all of us are on tenterhooks. The necessary things have been given to Vikram and now it is up to him and … well … Purva.
6.00 p.m.
WhatsApp messages on Mission Possible –
Pitajee – ‘Vik, has the spider entered the web?’
Anu – ‘What?’
Me – ‘What?’
Vikram – ‘What?’
Pitajee – ‘Just asking if Purva is home yet.’
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10.00 p.m.
Vikram – ‘The spider is in the web.’
Me – ‘LOL.’
Anu – ‘LOL.’
Pitajee. ‘...’
11.00 p.m.
I am breathing easier now. After what seemed like an eternity, Purva reached home, tired and exhausted from the surgeries of the day. Once dinner was done and Anju Aunty had retired to her room for the night, Vikram went to Purva’s room and, without another word, handed him two bowls. Each of the bowls contained water and in the water happily swam a goldfish each.
‘What the hell is this, Vikki?’ Purva exclaimed, watching his brother place the two bowls next to his bed.
‘Gifts for you,’ he said.
