Chapter 49: Thank-You

4 years ago

-Archi-

@-Archi-

The content of this story belongs strictly to the author, -Archi-. Any unwarranted use/copy of it is not encouraged and is strictly prohibited.

Chapter Forty-Nine

Thank-You

Khushi had hoped, after a rather long and taxing day yesterday that included her brother’s decision to move abroad leaving behind his inheritance and her best friend’s outburst regarding her feelings for a certain someone, today would be better. 

But even as she entered the hospital –having gone to the penthouse for a quick shower and a change of clothes– and saw Ved standing icily at the nurse’s station, reviewing what was probably his schedule for the day, she knew, today would be just as cumbersome as yesterday. 

Taking a deep breath, she stopped in front of Ved. “Good morning,” she murmured, hoping he had put their argument from last night behind him.

Ved simply continued checking his phone, completely ignoring her. 

“Look,” Khushi said in a low voice. “I’m sorry for how things ended yesterday, but like I told you, none of it was intentional–”

He abruptly tucked his phone away. Grabbing the files on the counter, he told her very formally, “I have to go on my morning rounds. I will be in Mr. Raizada’s room in thirty minutes for his check-up.”

And without waiting for a reply, he stalked away, leaving her all alone to deal with the confused and curious stares of the nurses. As a general rule, Ved never showed attitude, least of all to her. 

“How did you manage to piss off Dr. Arora?” Sona –the receptionist– asked, staring at her with incredulity. “He’s such a sweetheart!”

Of course they sided with him. Ved was popular with the nurses and generally, most of the female staff. Not wanting to argue, Khushi merely shrugged and collected her files, departing for her morning rounds as well. 

She had arrived in Arnav’s room for his scheduled check-up a few minutes before Ved. 

“Good mor– wow,” Arnav, propped up on a few pillows, typing away on his laptop, said. He was staring at her, stunned. 

“Err- what?” she asked, feeling goosebumps at the back of her neck. His eyes were so… intense. 

“Saree?”

Khushi instinctively looked down, having totally forgotten that she was indeed wearing a saree, courtesy of the annual hospital awards to be held that very evening. Thank god she saw her calendar alert while getting ready that morning and opted for a linen saree in platinum tones –an heirloom from her mother– hoping she looked more put together than she felt. 

“First you disappear at the crack of dawn,” Arnav said, a soft smile on his lips. “And then you show up like this… what’s going on Dr. Gupta? Anything you need to tell me?”

Her heart might as well have stopped. 

“W-what do you mean?” Khushi asked nervously. 

He laughed. “I’m just saying that you look lovely today… you should consider wearing sarees all the time you know, they really suit you.”

Was it the first time he was complimenting her? Khushi, for the life of her, couldn’t remember. He had always been kind to her, yes, but today his words took on a whole other meaning and all she could do was look away, failing miserably to hide her shyness. Thankfully, Ved arrived just then. 

“Good morning Mr. Raizada,” he greeted in the same emotionless tone he had used with her a few minutes ago. “How are you feeling today?”

Arnav too seemed to notice his abnormal mood. “I’m good, how about you Dr. Arora? Feeling a little under the weather today?”

Ved pursued his lips and pulled out his stethoscope in answer. 

It had to the most awkward check-up till date. No one spoke a word as Ved assessed Arnav’s vitals and filled out his chart. And after fifteen treacherous minutes –yes, Khushi counted every single second of it– he bid Arnav goodbye and left, as if Khushi wasn’t even present in the room. 

“What’s with him?” Arnav asked, perplexed. 

Khushi sighed, slumping down on the stool beside the bed. “I… I told him we are married last night.”

Arnav’s jaw hit the floor. “And you waited this long to tell me?!” 

“Not intentionally,” she muttered. 

What could she have said anyway? That Ved acted exactly like how Arnav had predicted? That instead of focusing on the fact that she didn’t return any of his feeling, he was hung up on the idea that she chose Arnav over him? And moreover, labeled it as love? 

Love wasn’t that. Love was... what Arnav probably had for Myra; what her mother had for her father. Love was that crazy thing that blinded you from rationality.

That was not what she felt for him. No, Arnav brought her peace... he brought her comfort. He was like that kulfi her mother used to buy for her, meant to console and nothing more. 

“Besides,” she said, looking at him seriously. “You were quite fascinated by my father.”

Arnav’s face hardened. “Enraged would be a better word Khushi.”

It would be. 

It was very strange to see Arnav react so adversely to her father. She knew he respected women –her mother-in-law had done a commendable job in that department– but for him to care so deeply about her past was surprising. And also, oddly liberating. 

For so many years now, Khushi had always felt so out of place. At home, she was the brattish child who insisted on rebelling rather than adjusting and at school, she was the nerdy girl who was too serious for fun. She has lost count, growing up, the number of times she wished she could just fit in somewhere. 

But to see Arnav so enraged about her father, asking her why she didn’t fight harder… it was as though she was being acknowledged. It felt like she was no longer alone, stranded on one frequency while the rest of the word ran on another. There felt like there was finally one other person who understood her. 

“Your father is not the point though,” Arnav said. “What did you tell Ved and why is he so angry?”

Khushi fiddled with her hands. “I told Ved I didn’t like him.”

He appeared impressed. “Just like that? No segue into it?”

“Of course there was a segue–”

“Details Dr. Gupta, details. You’re killing me here.”

Khushi resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “The segue was your girlfriends.”

“Who?” he asked, puzzled. 

“The nurses, who else,” she answered, unable to keep away the annoyance from her voice.

He chuckled. “I have that effect on women, you can’t really blame them.”

She still, nonetheless, did. “Anyway, they apparently have been gossiping about you and me.”

“Gossiping about what?”

“About me sleeping here in your room. About me calling you Arnav instead of Mr. Raizada. About me giving you specialattention... the list is endless.”

Arnav was quiet. 

“Ved, predictably, was insecure about it. So I took your advice and told him that he was a good friend, not anything more or less.”

“And then?”

Ved’s dejected face from the night before came into view.

“He asked me to give him a chance,” she murmured, feeling guilty for no reason. “To date him first and then decide if he was boyfriend material or not.”

Arnav’s amused expression dropped ever so slightly. If Khushi didn’t know his features so well, she might not even have noticed it. 

“I’m assuming you said no to that as well?” he asked.

“Of course,” she replied, wondering why he needed to confirm the obvious. “Anyway, once he digested all that, I told him the circumstances of our marriage.”

Arnav exhaled, as though preparing himself for bad news. 

“That’s when things really went bad,” she continued. “He thinks I have been making excuses for hiding this marriage... misleading him and possibly even mocking his feelings. So, just like you predicted, Ved is mighty pissed at me for not sharing the whole truth and has been ignoring me ever since. The cherry on top is your girlfriends siding with Ved and probably gloating on the fact that I lost my only friend at the hospital.”

He gazed at her, deep in thought. Unable to meet his eyes, Khushi looked down at her lap, vaguely wondering how long she would be able to withstand Ved’s silence. 

As last, Arnav spoke. “I can fire him you know.”

Khushi’s head jerked up. “No, you can’t,” she replied flatly. “Only Awasti can hire and fire people.”

“No, I can,” he insisted. “Actually, you can fire him… it’s your hospital.”

She stopped short. “No, it’s not.”

“We are married legally you know. By default you have ownership of our shares in this hospital. So, if you want, we can get rid of him once and for all. What do you say? I can get the paperwork ready in an hour.”

She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help the smile spreading up her face. 

Grinning sheepishly, he added: “We can replace the nurses too for that matter. It’ll be perfect, we can get a whole new crew for you.”

“As much as that sounds tempting, I’ll have to pass,” she said heavily. “The nurses hate me already for forbidding them from meeting you. They will outright start a war if I let you fire them.”

“Who cares? At least you’ll be happy.”

She smiled, happy already that he was willing to fire the entire hospital for her. 

“So, what’s special occasion today?” he asked. 

“It’s the annual hospital awards today. Wait– shouldn’t you know this? What kind of a trustee are you?”

“Apparently the kind that doesn’t get invited to these things,” he answered drily. “So, have you been nominated?”

“I think so,” she replied, recalling her conversation with Dr. Awasti from almost a week ago. “Attendance is mandatory though.”

“What about a plus one?”

She didn’t follow. “Huh?”

“Aren’t you allowed to bring someone with you?”

Khushi racked her brains, trying to remember what the invitation –sent over email– had said. “Probably.”

“Awesome,” Arnav said with a smile. “It will be an honor to accompany you Dr. Gupta.”

Khushi stared at him, utterly confused about the sudden interest. He wanted to accompany her for a boring hospital event? Why? 

“I’m going to take your silence as a yes–”

She shook her head. “Arnav, no. You are a patient here, please act like it.”

“I’m also a trustee.”

“It doesn’t matter. You need strict bed rest. I’m not going to let you strain yourself for some boring obligation. Tonight will just be a bunch of old people giving snore-worthy speeches about their contributions to the hospital and how proud they are of the goals they achieved. Netflix is far more entertaining if you ask me.”

“But–”

“Besides, you don’t even have a suit.”

“A suit can be arranged–”

Khushi’s pager went off unannounced, summoning her for an accident case being brought into the hospital. Maybe today wouldn’t be so cumbersome after all, she thought to herself. Accidents usually involved surgeries, and surgeries asked for undivided attention for several hours. 

“I got to run,” Khushi muttered, standing up. “Let’s talk later. And please eat your breakfast like a good patient. I’ll knowif you didn’t!” 

Throwing him a pointed look, she ran off to the emergency room, her lousy mood improving instantly.

Just like she had hoped, the accident case took up most of Khushi’s day. In addition to assisting the general surgeon operate on severe abdominal lacerations of the driver –the most seriously injured person in the accident– she personally treated the two other passengers involved, from dressing their wounds to running all the tests. She had completely forgotten about Arnav’s offer until she received an urgent text from him around 4 o’clock –just when she was about to wrap up her work anyway– requesting her presence.

When she arrived in his room, worried, she was momentarily stunned to find him fully dressed in a three-piece raven black suit, sitting brightly on a wheelchair. 

“W-what’s going on?” she asked him.

“I have a suit,” he said with emphasis. “And I’m not straining my leg.”

“So?”

“So now will you take me to your awards?”

Khushi let out a breath she didn’t even know she was holding. “Seriously?”

He gave her a look as though she was missing the obvious point. 

“Why do you care so much Arnav?” she groaned. 

“Are you embarrassed to take me?” he asked, amused. “Do you not want to be seen with a cripple in public?”

“Ha ha. I just... I don’t want to trouble you.”

“Seeing you win an award is cause for celebration Khushi, not trouble.”

“You can save your time, I’m not going to win.”

“Why not?”

“Because I never win at these things.”

Arnav frowned. “You don’t know that–”

But she did. Dr. Awasti may have nominated her out of nicety, but the truth was, Khushi had joined much too late in the year to compete with the rest of the first-year residents. It would be foolish to hope. 

“It’s fine Arnav,” she said. “It’s just an award, not some throne. But how exactly did you get the suit? You can’t leave the hospital.” 

He smirked. “I have contacts you know.”

Khushi narrowed her eyes. “The nurses dressed you?”

“You really don’t like them, do you?”

She ignored that.

“Lavu brought the suit,” he clarified. “The nurses arranged for the wheelchair. And I dressed myself – happy?” 

A little, yes. But outwards, she simply shrugged her shoulders. 

“So, when are they rolling out the red carpet for this thing?” he asked.  

“They didn’t know Mr. Trustee was going to show up,” she answered promptly. “And hence, canceled the red carpet; budget cuts you know. So, we are expected to walk –sorry– wheel in, just about now.” 

Arnav chuckled. “After you then.”

And together, they made their way to the auditorium on the ground floor, where the ceremony was being held. Khushi was leading Arnav’s wheelchair just past the reception desk, when an angry voice called her.

“Dr. Gupta!!”

Khushi stopped in her tracks, having no trouble recognizing that voice. She turned around to find Dr. Dayal, an aged, temperamental senior from the oncology department, who had quite the reputation for being unruly and condescending, glaring at her. Wondering what on earth she did to earn his ire, Khushi cleared her throat.

“Yes, Dr. Dayal?” Her voice, next to his irate one, sounded very mellow.

“It’s been over an hour since I asked for Mrs. Khanna’s reports, where are they?!”

Oh crap. 

She had forgotten to send them, having been completely occupied with the accident case. 

“Great, you don’t even remember,” Dr. Dayal spat. “Have you forgotten that Mrs. Khanna is your patient in the first place? And that you came to me, begging for help?!”

Khushi’s eyes flashed. She had indeed gone to request –not beg– him to take a look at Mrs. Khanna’s reports which were indicating the presence of a stomach tumor. If the situation wasn’t urgent, Khushi would have waited until another oncologist’s schedule opened up for a consultation rather than ask the entitled Dr. Dayal. 

And now, she was paying for it.

“I’m sorry Dr. Dayal,” she replied, trying hard to maintain a straight face and ignore the many stares she was receiving. “I was busy with an accident case–”

Dr. Dayal snorted. “Yes, entertain me with flimsy excuses. Discipline is a joke to this generation of doctors, isn’t it?”

Khushi was outraged. “But–”

“When a senior is talking, it’s respectful to listen. Haven’t you learned that much?”

Talking? Khushi thought incredulously to herself. His shouts were carrying so loudly across the hospital lobby that most people –both visitors and staff alike– had stopped to gawk.

“In my day,” Dr. Dayal continued. “Interns were too busy to even sit down for a cup coffee, that’s how hard we worked. But nowadays, all it takes to get in through the door is a letter of recommendation. Sincerity and hard work are just words on a CV, isn’t it?”

“That’s unfair Sir,” Khushi replied coldly. “Whether it is your day or mine, the protocol is the same. Wait twenty-four hours before accusing someone of slacking off–”

Dr. Dayal glared at her. “So you will teach me how to work from now on?! Dr. Awasti will hear of this Gupta! You should be apologizing for screwing up, and instead you are arguing with me?!”

“I did apologize–”

“Don’t you dare think, you will get away with this. I will make sure a report is filed for this misconduct. Fix that attitude Gupta, one more mistake and you can forget about a career in medicine! Those reports better be in my inbox before tomorrow morning.”

And to her utter humiliation, Dr. Dayal arrogantly stomped away, disappearing into the auditorium where the award ceremony was due to begin any minute.

Khushi took a deep breath, trying to swallow the fury building inside of her. She peaked a glance at the nurses standing at the reception desk, expecting to see them smug. But to her great surprise, they were staring at her in sympathy. And so were most of the people in the lobby. All of them were too well aware of Dr. Dayal’s attitude to blame her. 

That was enough for Khushi’s indignation to melt. 

“Let’s go?” she asked, turning to an unsmiling Arnav, who was staring at the doorway Dr. Dayal vanished into. 

He looked at her, his eyes furious. 

“It’s okay,” she muttered. “Dr. Dayal is like that. Ignore it.”

Arnav disagreed. “Why doesn’t anyone complain about him?”

“They do complain. But what’s the point? He will retire next year, it’s just a few more months.”

He was quiet, thankfully not pressing for more details. 

By the time they entered the auditorium, most of the staff –for some people were still on duty, ensuring the hospital remained functional– had assembled and the announcer was asking everyone to take their seats. Khushi picked a spot in the back corner of the room where there was plenty of room for Arnav’s wheelchair, when she saw Dr. Awasti waving at her, beckoning her to sit at the front along with the rest of her batch. 

“Err, I think I have to sit with Ved and the others,” Khushi told Arnav.  

“Go ahead,” he answered. “I’ll be fine.”

“Thanks. Try not to snore.”

Arnav smiled. “Good luck Dr. Gupta. I’ll be ready with the cameras.”

She rolled her eyes and sped off to join the rest of her classmates just as the lights dimmed. As she had foretold, the ceremony began with elongated speeches from people she couldn’t be bothered to remember and a very long PowerPoint presentation about the hospital’s future. It was almost an hour later, by which time most of the audience had fallen asleep, that they began to present the awards. The interns were first.

Khushi saw many people in her row sit up, excited and hopeful. They all wanted to win, and it was no secret that they all deserved it too. It may have become second nature for them now to battle death every day, to juggle their families and late-night shifts, to always be on the run, but it had in no way, become easier. It was still a battle, it’s just that they had learned to take it one day at time.  

“Next, we have the award for the best first-year resident,” the announcer –one of the hospital’s trustees– said dramatically.  “It’s goes to…”

Perhaps it was Ved, Khushi thought to herself. Maybe then he would calm down enough to talk to her. 

“Dr. Khushi Kumari Gupta.”

A ringing silence filled Khushi’s ears, as she stared at the stage, astounded. And before she could make sense of what she was hearing, thundering applause broke out in the hall. Many of her friends turned towards her with wide grins, excitedly congratulating her. 

“Dr. Gupta,” the trustee continued, once the claps slowed. “Joined us a little later than usual, but not once used that as an excuse to remain behind. Just in the past one month, she has worked the highest number of hours. She is the first to respond to accident cases, that is on top of handling her own patients, approaches difficult cases with utmost sensitivity and maturity and is always seen learning and improving. In fact, I have yet to meet to someone who has a bad review about her.” 

The crowd laughed. 

“So, everyone, please welcome Dr. Gupta on stage to accept this honor as a small token of our gratitude. I can only hope, her determination and sincerity will inspire not only the interns, but some of our senior doctors.”

Khushi shakily stood up, unable to believe it was all real. Wasn’t it just a few minutes ago that she was telling Arnav the odds were not her in favor?  

Dr. Awasti –a plaque in hand– was waiting to receive her on stage. “Congratulations Dr. Gupta,” she said warmly. “Very well deserved.” 

Khushi thanked her, her heart thudding wildly. She felt elated to see most of the audience still clapping, many of the faces she could make out under the harsh stage lights, smiling at her in awe. She had felt so alien all day, being dejected first with Ved, then the nurses and finally Dr. Dayal. However, now, looking at all of them cheering for her, she finally felt... at home. 

And it was with this warm, fuzzy feeling beating inside of her that she accepted her award, posed briefly for the photographer and made her way to the podium to convey her gratitude. 

Her eyes instinctively scanned the audience for Arnav, wondering if he indeed had his phone ready, recording her as her mother undoubtedly would have done if she was present. She finally she found him at the very back, in the same place she had left him, clapping along with the audience. 

Her smile brightened even more, her gaze –accidentally– flickering to the man seated next to him. She choked. 

It was her father.

Dressed in his usual tailored suit, Alok Raj Gupta was sitting grimly in the audience, staring at her with disappointment or anger, she couldn’t quite tell. Just the mere sight of him was enough for Khushi’s happiness to come crashing down, faster than a house of cards. 

Panic began to fester deep inside of her. 

What the hell was her father doing here? How did he find out she was working again? Did he come to threaten her back into quitting? Or maybe even worse, for the hospital board to fire her yet again? 

The applause in the hall finally came to an end, and everyone looked on in anticipation, waiting for her to speak. Only Khushi couldn’t will her mouth to move. Like a dog chasing its tail, her mind was scrambling to understand what cruel tricks her father was planning to unleash on her today. 

“Ahem,” Dr. Awasti murmured behind her, urging her to speak. The audience was getting restless, the deafening silence, too awkward to bear.

Out of nowhere, Vihaan’s voice suddenly rang in her ears. 

What’s the wrong case scenario? It’s that he will force me to stay here and become CEO, right?

That was enough for her panic to clear. Her brother had a point. What could her father possibly do? Hadn’t he done his worst already? What was left for him to destroy? 

So, clearing her throat, Khushi broke her gaze from Alok and turned to the now confused audience, knowing exactly what she wanted to say.

“When I was a little girl,” she began in a loud, clear voice. “I once broke a rather expensive vase while playing a game of hide-of-seek with my older brother. Predictably, we both received a good amount of scolding in return. My brother, for coming up with the idea of playing instead of finishing our homework, and me, for not airing on the side of caution. Don’t you know better, my mother asked me. Girls are supposed to be mature and responsible; if your brother doesn’t want to do homework, you should correct him, not agree with him. 

It didn’t take me long to figure out what being mature and responsible meant. It meant serving tea when guests arrived. It meant helping my mother with chores when she wasn’t well. It meant liking piano instead of football. It meant not going abroad for college. It meant coming home by sunset. Being mature and responsible meant accepting the unequal playground girls are pushed into since the day they are born. 

So, it goes without saying that when I started my medical practice, I thought I would be required to be ‘mature and responsible’ here too. That I should understand if I wasn’t hired for a residency out of the assumption that I won’t put in as many hours as a male colleague. That it’s okay if I wasn’t given important cases in the expectation that I will not make my job a priority. That I shouldn’t feel bad if I was passed over for a promotion in fear of an impending maternity leave. 

Luckily, that wasn’t the case. And it’s for that, that I want to say thank you today.”

Khushi glanced over her shoulder to where Dr. Awasti stood, listening intently. “Thank you Dr. Awasti, my mentor, for expecting nothing less of me than my very best, for teaching me what it truly means to be a doctor.”

She gazed at Ved, sitting in the front row. “Thank you to my colleagues, my family now, for accepting me so warmly, for teaching me that what matters in the end is not where I came from, or how many hours I worked or how many cases I solved. I’m indebted to your friendship.”

Knowing he was watching her, Khushi finally allowed herself to meet Arnav’s eyes at the back of the room. 

“And finally, thank you to the board,” she said in earnest. “Thank you for being the air under my wings. Without you, I would never have dared to fly.”

With that, she calmly stepped down from the dais and returned to her seat, a new sense of freedom overtaking her. 

_______________________________________________________

Firstly, huge thank you for the wonderful comments to the last chapter, it's always a pleasure to read your interpretations of the story and characters. Also a big welcome to new readers 

So Khushi is slowly stepping out of her cage and deciding for herself what makes her happy. She will (very soon) also decide about what to do with her marriage. 

Please like & comment! The next chapter will be up on Saturday night. 

Love,

Archi

P.S. - If you are not getting notifications of my updates, check if you have added this book to your library (it's a button on the right hand side of the chapter title). I know commenting in this new section is not very optimal, but it's much easier for me to update in, thank you for understanding