Me and my mother went to the hospital. My grandmother was still crying, and my grandfather sat quietly. They were both lost in thought — “We made a mistake. We should have sent our daughter to college. She could’ve gotten a good job. Then we could’ve thought about her marriage. But now, our son-in-law is not a good man. He drinks every day, it’s ruined his health, and he doesn’t listen to anyone. What are we supposed to do now?”
I went to sit next to my grandfather, but my mother pulled me towards the cash counter. We stood there, and the counter person asked, “Patient name?”
I replied, “Vikramaraja.”
She checked on the computer. My mom handed over the bill receipt. The counter person checked again and said, “Madam, the bill amount is ₹1,79,000.” Mom just nodded, took out the cash from her bag, and gave it to her. The counter person counted it using the machine and returned ₹21,000. Mom took the receipt and the change. I just stood there, watching everything. After the payment, Mom seemed a little relaxed.
We went back to sit near grandfather. He suddenly shouted at grandmother, “Will you please stop crying? This is not your home, it’s a hospital! Respect the other patients!” Grandmother tried to control herself. The crying was now silent, but the tears didn’t stop.
Grandfather asked Mom, “Where did this money come from?”
Mom gave him a sharp look and stayed silent. After a few minutes, she told him quietly, “I mortgaged my gold chain at the chit fund where I work.”
Grandfather didn’t say anything.
Nurse Claria came out from the ward with a file. She looked at me, I looked at her. She walked toward us and asked Mom, “Did the doctor speak to you?”
Mom replied, “Yes.”
Then Claria looked at me and asked, “Did you have breakfast today?”
I nodded, “Yes.”
“Okay,” she said, and walked away towards the doctor’s room.
About an hour later, Mom told grandfather, “You can leave now if you have work. I’ll take care of everything with my son.” My mother always wanted to prove to her parents that she could manage on her own. Grandfather didn’t say anything, just quietly left. I don’t know where he went.
Then Mom shouted at grandmother, “Why are you always crying about everything? You should’ve gone with him! Why are you doing this to me? Is this what my life has come to?”
Every time Nurse Claria walked past us, she smiled at me. In those moments, I felt something I couldn’t describe.
It was around 1 PM. Mom asked me to eat. She had prepared food in the morning. She asked a sweeper for the canteen’s direction. She carried the bag and asked grandmother to come with us. The three of us went to the canteen. Mom gave me a tiffin of curd rice. Another box was for her and grandmother to share. Grandmother argued that she wasn’t hungry, but Mom forced her to eat.
We returned to the waiting area and sat in the same chairs. I was bored. Time passed slowly.
By 3:46 PM, grandfather returned and handed ₹1 lakh to my mother. But she said, “I don’t want any money, please take it back.”
Grandfather insisted. Mom didn’t even touch the money. Frustrated, he gave the money to me. I stepped back and said, “We’ll manage, Grandpa.” He became angry and said to my mother, “You don’t respect me. Fine. I’ll leave and never come back.”
He turned to my grandmother and shouted, “Are you coming with me or not?”
Grandmother pleaded with my mother, “Please take the money. How will you manage without it?”
But Mom just said calmly, “I don’t want any money.”
Grandfather yelled, “Don’t beg anyone! I’m suffering for my sins.” He grabbed grandmother’s hand and pulled her away. Without looking back, he walked out. Grandmother cried a lot but followed him. I sat closer to my mother. She held my hand tightly, tears silently falling from her eyes.
By 6 PM, Claria’s shift ended. Mom asked her, “What did the doctor say?”
Claria replied, “Tomorrow morning, he’ll be moved to the general ward.” She left.
A bit later, Claria returned and told us, “You should go home and get some rest. Come back early in the morning.” She added, “My daughter’s here to pick me up, I have to go now.”
As the shift changed, the hospital turned quiet. Mom said, “Let’s go home.” We left on my bike, the sun was setting—the sky lit with magic hour light.
At home, Mom said she felt tired but would make dosa for me. I freshened up, came to the kitchen, and she gave me two dosas. Then a third. I said I was full. She turned off the stove, went to the sofa, and fell asleep without changing or eating. I didn’t disturb her. It was 7:12 PM. I looked around, then went to the terrace with my mattress. I wanted to sleep under the sky. And I had a good sleep.
Next morning, Mom searched for me. She found me on the terrace and asked, “Why did you sleep here? You didn’t tell me. I searched everywhere.”
I replied, “Mom, you were asleep. I saw the door, came to the terrace, looked at the sky, and decided to sleep here.”
She smiled.
She gave me three idlis. We went to the hospital. The doctor said Dad would be moved to the general ward tomorrow—his health was improving.
Mom later said, “I’ll go to the office today. No point sitting here all day. You wait here, okay?” She handed me a tiffin and left. I sat there holding it, feeling awkward and bored. People came and went—some crying, some laughing. Time passed.
By 10 AM, Nurse Claria entered and smiled. She dropped her bag in the nurse room and came to me.
“Where’s your mother?” she asked.
“She went to work. She works at Mangalam Chit Fund,” I replied.
She saw the tiffin box, asked, “This is for?”
“My lunch,” I said.
She laughed, ruffled my hair, and walked away.
It was boring, so boring. I watched everyone in there; some were feeling happy, some were sad, some were avoiding, and some had no place. Suddenly, the hospital changed into a vegetable market. People surrounded the ambulance from a bike accident; a whole family was crying and shouting aloud. Everyone in the hospital came out to have a look and then left. After a few minutes, the hospital returned to its normal position.
now time is 01:30 everyone in hospital has this food, I feel so shy, I didn’t want to eat alone in the canteen. I decided to skip lunch and throw the food away, though I was hungry.
In that deep moment, someone touched me. It was Claria.
“What are you thinking? Come with me.”
I hesitated, but she pulled me up and took the tiffin box.
We went to the nurse room. Another nurse was eating. Claria told me to sit. She opened my box and started eating. Only after that, I opened mine. Tears filled my eyes. I tried to hide it, but couldn’t.
She noticed. “What happened?”
“Nothing,” I replied, but the tears kept falling. She gently hugged me, made me feel safe. I slowly calmed down.
She gave me tissues. I wiped my face. “Are you okay now?” she asked.
I nodded.
I finished eating, washed my box, and let it dry. “Thank you,” I said.
She smiled.
Back in the waiting area, I sat in “my chair.” I had started to believe it was made for me. No one else ever sat there. I tried another chair, but returned to the same one.
At 6:20 PM, Mom came. We went home.
The next day, Dad was shifted to the general ward. He was asleep. Me and Mom sat next to him. Around 10 AM, he opened his eyes, looked at us, and closed them again. Then he looked at Mom, and she looked down.
Doctor and Nurse Claria came—she gave injections and changed the IV. My father’s brother came to visit.
Days passed like this. All my vacation days went into hospital visits. Dad’s condition was unstable—sometimes better, sometimes worse. Another hospital bill came—₹60,000. Mom paid it.
Claria helped me a lot. We became close. Sometimes I even helped her.
Mom went to work daily and returned in the evenings. Dad’s condition improved. In two days, he’d be discharged.
One day, Claria was on leave. The doctor wanted to meet my mom. She told me to pick her up. I took my bike, and at the hospital gate, I saw my P.E.T master, Chowdeppa. He asked what happened. I explained everything. He said his sister worked in the accounts department and that he’d try to help us.
I went to pick up Mom from work. She was waiting outside.
“How long do I have to wait for you?” she said.
I replied, “I saw Master Chowdeppa and explained everything to him.”
She nodded.
At the hospital, we went to meet Dr. Abdul Rahman. He told us, “We’ll discharge your father tomorrow. Take care of him. Come for regular check-ups. I’ve done my best. Chowdeppa is my friend—I’ve informed the accounts department to give you some discount.”
Me and Mom were happy.
Back in the waiting hall, Mom got a message—“12th standard results in 2 days.” She was happy.
Next episode: Father falls sick again after drinking. Everything starts getting worse…