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The Good Doctor

I often saw him walking every evening with his bag in the hand to his dispensary. He was a large man and with the advancing of years his walk had a slight stoop but he still stood tall amongst most who met him. I called him Uncle having grown up in his presence and him having been responsible for my well being from the time I was born. I had this innate faith in his ability to cure me of any ailment and get me up and running. 


Like me for most people at Mori Road, the doctor’s magic potions were something that you just had blind faith on. For every person who visited his clinic, he would scribble something   that then went to his compounder (medicine man) who prepared the potion. I often tried to peer through the 2X2 viewing pane half bending down to get a sense of how the compounder mixed these magic potions and it was fascinating to see the mixtures getting ground and packed into bottles and the pills used to be wrapped in small newspapers pellets to designate the dosages. Here it did not matter what your age was, or what faith you belonged to, or even what ideological belief you held. The doctor and his magic potions worked across all these barriers.


Last year as the Pujas approached, I felt a little under the weather and decided that I needed to get myself one of those magic shots. The dispensary was crowded but everyone sat patiently for their turn. I entered and Uncle greeted me in his usual boisterous way and said “Back again?” I found a perch and sat down. I looked around and found that nothing had changed in that place over the years, except for the fresh coat of paint. Uncle still sat on his chair and swiveled around talking to people and then disappeared behind the partition from time to time to examine the patients who he thought needed attention. And on coming out he would scribble his magic potion and off it went into the compounder’s cubicle to get made. It was as if time stood still in that place. From the time I could remember, Uncle still looked the same - his large frame, a balding head, a smile that could make a thousand suns seem small and a handshake that you could feel forever if he ever gave you one.


Everyone the good doctor treated left the place with a smile on his face. And he could talk almost every language you could think of. He was also the local advisor to a lot of people and often their friend, philosopher and guide. For us he had treated four generations of Sens - my grandfather, father, me and now my children.  So he was the Uncle to me, that never grew old.


“Come in young man” his voice boomed. I slid in with him behind the partition and as he locked the door behind he said “So what brings you here Bill Gates?” My association with the software world invited this but I enjoyed the banter. “Well, cough. cold and fever. The Pujas are coming and I need to be up and running. So I need some of those magic shots!” 

“Everything is instant quickfix for you guys - like instant coffee, instant noodles and instant success. Well, I guess I will give you one of my shots. Come on, collect them from my compounder.” he said. “Thanks and if you give me the formula for your magic potions, I guess I won’t have to come back again.” I said. He stopped and looked at me intently and then a slight grin broke out on his face “ You want to put me out of business young man?” he said. “Anyway, take the medicines I give and don’t miss a single dosage this time. You should be fine.”


I collected the medicines and made my way back home. My wife asked me about my visit and I let her know that the doctor said I would be fine. I finished dinner and it was time for bed - and yes the medicines. I reached for the medicines - as usual, four newspaper pellets neatly stacked and tied with a thread. I opened the first one. As I unwrapped the paper, much to my surprise I found no tablets or capsules inside. It was blank. There was a small piece of paper and it read “Exercise every day”.  I smiled and opened and the second pellet. Again - nothing inside for the second dosage and another piece of paper read “Eat on time and Do not overeat.” And then the third one read “Get enough sleep.” and the fourth one read “Most Important - Slow down and Enjoy Life.” 


I stared at the four pieces of paper dumbfounded and read them again and again. I knew that the good doctor had a great sense of humor and this was his way to get his message across. For all these years, whenever he met me or my wife, he always wanted me to exercise and get fitter, eat well and have a better lifestyle in general. But to me it was always “doctor talk”. But finally I guess tired of trying to get his message across he probably chose to do this in his own way. 


I put away the four pieces of paper but each of those words were now etched in my mind. As I was leaving for office the next day, I saw him again and he waved to me from the distance and said in his booming voice “Are you taking my medicines? I gave you the secret of my magic potions son!” I waved back and smiled and said “Of course Uncle, I am already feeling better now  and it is Mahalaya today!” “Happy Pujas “ he bellowed and threw a thumbs up sign my way. 


It was Mahalaya again this Sunday and passing by his chamber my hand almost on instinct went up to wave at him. Only that the chamber now has been closed  and the only thing that greets you are the steel shutters. 


As I stood before his chamber thinking about him, it struck me that I had not been to a doctor for the entire year that went by. I remembered his last words on the magic potion “The key ingredient of the secret formula is the last one - Enjoy Life and Slow Down. You mess with this one and the other three also go out of balance.” As those words came back to me I almost felt that the shutters would open and he would be sitting there and bellowing “Happy Pujas.” And if the shutters did open all I wanted to say was “It is Mahalaya today Uncle and your secret really works.” 


But sadly the shutters will never open with him there again. Last winter the doctor decided to leave us and the whole of Mori Road gathered to bid him his final farewell. Mori Road will never be the same again. It will always miss the good doctor but the secret of his magic lives on. Try it - you won’t be disappointed. 


Happy Pujas. 


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