Makarand Lohire - Here Sat A Key Maker

SRISHTI PUBLISHERS & DISTRIBUTORS

N-16, C. R. Park

New Delhi 110 019

srishtipublishers@gmail.com

First published by Srishti Publishers & Distributors in 2013

Copyright Dr. Makarand Lohire, 2013

ALL MAJOR CHARACTERS IN THIS NOVEL ARE 100% FICTITIOUS ANY RESEMBLANCE TO ANYONE LIVING, DEAD OR TO BE BORN IS PURELY COINCIDENTAL

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the Publishers.

This is purely a work of fiction. The places mentioned in this story are real; however, any resemblance to any real character/individual is purely coincidental. We dont intend to hurt any particular profession. Any inconvenience is regretted. Readers may take note of this.

Contents

Acknowledgements

There are many to whom I would like to thank for making my dream come true.

This book wouldnt have been possible without the blessings of God, who scripted various instances in my life, so that I can use them on the name of fiction.

Thanks to my parents and brothers, who encouraged me to continue writing and boosted my confidence by their comments for my write-ups.

Thanks to my friend Dr. Dipen Walvatkar whose editing and valuable suggestions made wonders with the write-up. Throughout the process of writing, he had been most helpful and I really thank him for keeping his cool while reading the initial draft in my bad handwriting. Also, thanks to Hari Iyer and Raksheet Shetty for helping out with the editing and for their helpful comments.

Thanks to Dr. Deepak Pokra and Mahi MK for helping with the cover page design. I know my silly questions must have frustrated you during the process, but I am sure you can understand how keen I was.

Also, many thanks to Rahul, Mahesh, Priety, Shikha, Tirath, Unzer, Muni, Avinash, Raskar, Asha, Duaa and Vicky for letting me use their names in the story. Though I know, some of them might be cursing me for that, but guys, I am sorry for that, and you know how much I mean that. Thanks to Debanshu for being my inspiration, as you might not know, but it was your short story which made me start writing. I am grateful to my other friends as well for reading the manuscript and helping me with their comments.

Thanks to Dinesh mama, for sharing the instances during family gatherings, which he had seen or heard, which were real or fictional, I dont know, but that surely helped me a lot.

Thanks to Srishti publishers, who helped and guided me in a brilliant way to make the book even better. I am really thankful to them for believing in my work and supporting me.

I am also obliged to Grant medical college, Mumbai, which gave me an identity as a GMCite and trained me to believe in myself.

And last but not the least, thanks to Dr. Bhatia Classes notepad, which they distribute outside the exam centre, because those are the ones in which I wrote the manuscript.

Prologue

Last night was hell! I mean, you dont encounter seriously ill patients every other minute every night. It was my turn for emergency duty and for the entire night, I was busy pushing gelcos and doing blood collections; after all that is what an intern is destined to do. Finally in the wee hours of the morning, I was just about to collapse for want of some sleep and was looking forward to some rest in the side room; I had to make do with an old chair in the emergency ward. I was the lone medicine intern that night and my senior wouldnt allow me any rest in the side room. A doctors life is full of emergencies, something I didnt like at all, because sleep is something which is most precious to me.

Walking past the CT scan centre of J.J Hospital, I got a call from my senior. Makarand, where are you right now? he growled in his frustrated, angry, grumpy tone.

I wanted to reply with the perfect words for him, but I controlled myself, thinking about his completion signature on my journal which was the lone reason why I had to put up with his nonsense.

Sir, I was leaving for the hostel.

Senior, Did you complete all the blood collections for last nights patients? If not, I want it to be done stat.

Stat is the most static word in every medicos language.

I usually did all the work before leaving. But, that morning, I was too tired to finish all blood collections. So, I had left a couple of them. Yes sir, its all done, I lied, and then ending the call, I quickly switched off my cell phone.

Walking past the Pediatrics ward, dragging myself, struggling to defy gravity, I finally reached Apna boys hostel. Apna boys hostel is the most drab hostel, one could find. I walked up the steps to reach out for the lift. Leaning on the sidewall, I pressed the button to call the lift. No effect.no sound.

I pressed it twice. Still no movement of the lift wires.

That was the usual scene here. So, I started walking up the stairs. My room was on the 4th floor..room no. 145. It was hard for me to keep awake. So, counting the floors, finally I reached my room.

I was eager to get to my bed and feel the state of oblivion. But as I reached my room, I saw that the room was locked. My roommates, Rahul and Raskar, usually stayed at home. Raskar had his own key that he kept with his all other personal keys, but Rahul and I shared the same key that we used to keep on the ventilator.

So, I extended my hand to the ventilator, feeling for the key. With tired closed eyes, tapping softly over the ventilators muddy floor, for an onlooker it would look as if I was reading some Braille script. When I couldnt find the key I tried looking for it stretching my neck and toes.

To my horror, there was no key there. I quickly switched on my mobile and phoned Rahul, Abey, where are you? The key isnt on the venti.

Rahul, in his sleepy language, Arey, I had kept it thereask Raskar, he was there yesterday.

I called Raskar, Raskar, did you take the key from venti..where are you?

Raskar, Arey yaar, I am sorry. I am at home and I had brought your key with me, by mistake.

Listening to those words, anyone would make him recollect his ancestors. But, I kept silent, cut the call and switched off my mobile. I kept my cool because I knew him; such behaviour was usual on his part.

After thinking for other ways to get in, I inferred it would be better to go to the roadside key-maker, to get a duplicate one made.

It was close to 9 in the morning already and the roadside shops had opened up and there was the usual hustle bustle. Quickly I rushed to the corner on the footpath next to our hostel gate, where a young key-maker used to sit. There was no one there. So I started walking further in search of some key-maker.

But that day, I wasnt able to get one. Walking by, I saw a store of locks and keys. Though I thought, it would be absurd to ask for a key-maker at such a big store, being in need, I stepped inside and asked a young boy there, Hey, I want someone to come with me to make a key for a lock; I have lost the original.

He stared at me for a moment.

Oh..actually, I am a doctor. I stay at Apna boys hostel. I said.

He smiled, Ya..ya. I was just checking out your not so clean apron. Sirji, try to get it washed, sometime.

I was so tired that I forgot to remove my apron. So I quickly did that. Then, he told somebody to look after his store and came with me.