A Doctor Or A Fairy

They rushed to the book store. They looked around the place to try to find the doctor who he hoped would recognize somehow. Now he wished he paid more attention to the picture instead of her resume.

“Daddy, can you recognize the doctor?” asked Nitin.

“It is getting late for school, Daddy,” reminded Nithya.

“We will find the doctor, kids,” assured Prashanth.

Then he saw her step off the compartment with one large suitcase and two bags. She tossed the two bags on to the platform and carefully placed the suitcase. She got down, adjusted her red, white and black printed tunic, then her black scarf. She swung her backpack over one shoulder and pulled her belongings to the bench. She looked around for the person who was supposed to pick her up.

“There she is,” announced Prashanth, as he pulled the kids behind him towards the doctor.

“Are you sure, Daddy,” asked Nithya.

“Now I remember from the picture,” smiled Prashanth, very glad that his memory had not failed him.

As they approached the doctor, Prashanth suddenly felt butterflies in his stomach. His hands were suddenly sweaty. There stood an elegant lady, with such poise. Her posture relayed confidence yet a tad bit of vulnerability. Her light brown eyes looked warily around her yet didn’t show apprehension. Her hair was braided and hung over her left shoulder. She checked her watch before she looked up straight into the eyes of Prashanth.

They stared at each other for just a few seconds, he with amazement at the beauty in front of his eyes and she with suspicion.

When Nitin tugged at his hand, he awakened from his reverie.

“Dr. Mittur?” asked Prashanth.

“Yes. Are you from Mr. Kumar’s residence?” she asked.

“Yes, Dr. Mittur. I am Prashanth Kumar here to pick you up,” announced Prashanth. He saw a sparkle of surprise in her eyes when he told her his name. She smiled and looked towards the children.

Namaste. I am Dr. Vandana Mittur. I am a bit surprised as I was expecting an elderly gentleman with dhoti and all instead of a denim clad er… younger man,” she said, coyly.

“Sorry to have disappointed you, doctor,” said Prashanth, annoyed that he sounded old on the telephone. “Are these all your belongings? Are there any more?”

“These are the only ones I could carry. More bags will arrive in a week,” she said, picking one of the bags.

“Doctor, if you don’t mind, can we hurry as I have to drop off the kids at school before we head home,” said Prashanth, picking the heavy suitcase and the second duffel bag.

“Most certainly. I hope I am not the cause of delay,” said Dr. Mittur, hurrying after the man and his kids who kept turning back to steal a glance of her. “Is the school far off from the station?” she shouted after him over the sound of the train whistle and hollering vendors. Her question went unanswered which made her realize that indeed the kids would be late for school. Without further inquiries, she picked up the pace in her stride after them.

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Drive to the Railway Station

As he entered the kids’ bedroom, he was pleasantly surprised to find both kids dressed in their uniforms. Nitin was struggling to tie his shoe laces while Nithya was stuffing her backpack with the books that she left out the night before after her homework.

“Nitin, you are almost eight years old. You need to learn how to tie your shoe laces. Otherwise, your friends will make fun of you,” Prashanth advised, while looping the laces. Turning to Nitya, he added, “You, young lady, you need to keep your back pack ready the night before. Anyway, run along now to the kitchen. Satyamma must have kept everything ready. We will leave in fifteen minutes,” said Prashanth.

As the kids bounded out of the bedroom, he quickly grabbed their sweaters from their closet and ran after them. He checked his watch quickly as he dashed down the stairs. If they followed the schedule, then they should reach the railway station on time. Smiling to himself for being on time so far, he sat down at the dining table with the kids on either side. Satyamma served them their breakfast. Soon they were on their way to the railway station.

“Is the doctor pretty, Daddy?” asked Nithya after a while.

Stunned at her question, Prashanth tried to remember the doctor’s face from the picture on the application form. He went through a lot of applications before zeroing on three doctors. Of the three, Dr. Mittur was the only one who agreed to join right away.

“I don’t seem to remember her face, Nithya,” said Prashanth still trying to recollect. “One thing I’m afraid is that she could be a very strict one because she served in the military,” added Prashanth.

“What is military, Daddy?” asked Nitin from behind.

Glancing in the rearview mirror quickly, he explained. “Military means a group of people who help and protect our country from bad people from other countries. They are made up of Army, Navy and Air Force.”

“You mean they are like police,” asked Nitin.

“Yes, but they are bigger than police. They help protect the whole country.”

Nithya suddenly remembered something. She turned to face her brother, “Nitin, do you remember when we went to Aunty Asha’s wedding anniversary party last year, there was a family there. You played with a boy…can’t remember his name. Anyway, you said that you liked that boy very much and wished he would be your best friend for life. You see… his Dad works in Indian Navy. He is a soldier in the military.” She felt proud that she remembered and was able to explain to her little brother.

“Yes, I remember. His name is Vikram. He was a nice kid. We had lots of fun,” said Nitin, smiling that he remembered that kid’s name after a year.

They drove in silence for a while, the kids looking out through the window and Prashanth looking at the road.

“How will you recognize her at the railway station, Daddy?” asked Nitin from behind.

“Oh dear! I completely forgot to look at her picture. I should have written a placard with her name. I guess we will figure out once we get there,” assured Prashanth. ‘How could he be so careless’, he scolded himself.

Soon they arrived at the railway station. At this hour, the railway station is a cacophonic center with workers arriving from nearby hamlets to the town and blue collared workers leaving town to Visakhapatnam for their jobs. With the morning fog still lingering, the air a bit chilly, people were awaiting their respective trains huddled around coffee and tea shops and some eating breakfast.

Prashanth purchased three platform tickets at the counter before entering the main platform. He walked over to the ticket collector at the gate who was an acquaintance while holding both kids’ hands.

“Good Morning, Ramesh,” greeted Prashanth.

“Good Morning, Prashanth. What brings you to the station so early in the morning with kids? Are you expecting relatives?” asked the ticket collector, punching tickets of the passengers and shoving them back into their hands.

“No… no relatives yet. I am expecting a doctor for our hospital. She must have arrived by the morning train from Vizag. Has the train arrived or is it delayed?” asked Prashanth, checking his watch.

“You mean the 8.15 one?” questioned Ramesh, waving to one of his colleagues.

“Yes. Is it on time?”

“Of course, it is on time. It just pulled in. People are still alighting. Don’t worry. It will be here for another ten minutes. Plenty of time to find your passenger. Do you know the compartment number?”

“I think it is S-9,” said Prashanth, pulling out the paper he scribbled on in a hurry the night before.

“Head over to the right side and you should find the compartment across from the book store,” guided Ramesh.

“Let us go, kids, to fetch our doctor,” said Prashanth, pulling at his kids’ hands.

“Daddy, can you let go of my hand, please? It is embarrassing,” said Nithya, trying to pull away from her father’s grasp.

“It will be embarrassing when I will have to announce your name over the speakers. Do you see how many people there are here? You can get lost in the rush. So, don’t act smart with me, young lady,” said Prashanth, tightening his grip.

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