THE FIRE EXIT
The long corridor of the Hematology lab opened into the fire exit. One had to climb down two flights of stairs to the ground in case of a fire. But, for Post graduates who were always on fire, this was simply nothing. As we exited, the adjoining building formed the entrance to the mortuary. Every time we exited through the fire exit, you could never miss the sight of the morgue door.
As Post graduates, we had no work timing. We reported early, but went back hours after the moon rise. I enjoyed entering the Hematology department through the fire exit. The areas adjoining the exit were fields and as you drove the car on the muddy lane that connected the main road and the fire exit, you could see coconut trees and banana plantations. I never missed seeing beautiful birds chirping soulful music as I passed through the lane. Usually no one took the lane adjoining the farms because people had sighted snakes. People respected them tremendously, yet I too was a lover of nature and drove very carefully. Of course, I never saw a snake ever on that lane.
That lane also had its own stories. The owners of the adjoining farms rendered tales like they had often spotted leopards. They also claimed that untoward incidents had happened on that mud lane. However, I had only sighted young boys and girls making it their meeting point. Moreover, none of this mattered to me because I was just a post graduate appointed to do my work and beyond that I had no scope of thoughts.
The second reason I liked taking the lane was the mortuary. The morgue undertaker’s son Raju, who waited to say ‘Hi’ when I entered the exit and ‘Bye’ when I exited. For this Raju’s prize money was a chocolate every day. Never once, did I have engrossing conversations with Raju, but the lovely smile and the good mornings and good evenings never faded from my thoughts. From seeing Raju waiting at the morgue door every day, it gave me a hint that he didn’t go to a school. Somehow, I never made an attempt to ask. Should I blame it on the every day stress of life! I really don’t know.
If I didn’t see him for a day, I would feel a void. I would desperately look everywhere trying to locate him somehow.
This went on for six months.
One evening I decided to wrap up fast because I had a long day coming up. It was 4 in the evening, when I left via the fire exit. Raju wasn’t there. Something irked me to push open the mortuary door and call out to Raju. I went towards the door and placed my palm on the door handle. I didn’t push the door but withdrew my palm. I looked back, shrugged my shoulder and left.
I didn’t see Raju for more than a week. I began to worry about it.
I left the Hematology lab at midnight one day. The exit had one street light which was dim lit. I always carried a torch in my bag. I was pacing towards my car and saw Raju at the morgue door entrance.
“Raju,” I exclaimed.
He smiled back at me.
I went through my bag for his chocolate and raised my hand towards him. He waved at me and walked into the morgue door. I waved back appearing surprised.
The next day I refilled my bag with chocolates, expecting to see Raju.
I didn’t see him again. This time I was impatient. I walked through the morgue door and reached the autopsy area. I saw Raju’s father washing at the sink. “Brother, where is Raju?” I questioned.
He sadly said, “Raju is no more. He passed away two weeks ago.”
I was shocked and walked out of the morgue with a film of tears. I later got to know that Raju was diagnosed with Aplastic anemia and never responded to any treatment. They let him live his last days peacefully.
I knew that Raju came to bid me a ‘Final good bye.’
Of course, I never saw him ever again.
Even to this day, Raju lives in my memory. If you ask me why I like him so much… I don’t have an answer.
Written by Dr Anitha Chakravarthy
(This article was published in the Souvenir of Rajasthan APICON -Association of Physicians of India – NOVEMBER 2022).
