Hey everyone...!!
I couldn't resist this one...I live in India, where Season 5 of House MD is being aired right now, and the episode I watched last week was so brilliant that it inspired me to write in with my own version of it, with Armaan and Riddhima...hence, this Mini FanFic...so yes, the credit for the basic plotline goes to the makers of House MD...what I have tried to do is to treat that plot line with a slight difference...and of course, with an AR tinge...and don't worry, it doesn't matter if you haven't watched House before...it's probably better that way, in fact...more interesting...my fic is set in Sanjeevani, with all the doctors and interns as we know them...hope it turns out okay...
For starters, here's a Sneak Preview...
The sun rises to a new day. Work is on as usual at Sanjeevani, with the bustling of daily routine, doctors on their rounds, wardboys with stretchers and equipment, nurses with files and patient charts, going about their duties as always. But there is a little something different in the air today. A sense of foreboding, maybe? No one can really put a finger on it, but everyone feels it...a little something in the air. Armaan, however, is too busy to notice, as he makes his way down the corridor. He's still thinking about the little moment he shared with Riddhima in the fire escape. Images of her face, of her deep, beautiful eyes are what occupy his mind right now. Where was I going? he wonders suddenly...ah, yes, the Library...for Dr.Shashank's little research errand. He enters to find the room deserted except the shelves of books lining the walls. He browses the row he needs, spots his book, and is just reaching for it when the door opens behind him, and he turns to see a huddled group of six people half walking, half sprinting towards him, into the Library, looking frightened and quite ill. Patients from the Clinic, he thinks...but what are they doing here? And why do they look so terrified? As an answer to his musings, enters an old man of about sixty, silver haired, balding, frail yet quite erect and quick on his feet. But Armaan isn't looking at his form. It's his eyes that catch his attention immediately. They have a piercing something about them, and he can see in them a deep sadness that is at once disarming and unsettling. What is even more unsettling is what the old man is holding in his right hand: a neat black weapon, a gun, which he now points straight at Armaan. "I'm sick. And I need the best doctor in this hospital. Or somebody dies."
Nandini 😊
Updates :
Part One : Page 5
Anupamaa
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