"A Friend"

It is the 15th of April, 2001. Yet another excruciating Indian summer afternoon, even mercury is ready to escape its container. With the brazen summer winds blowing across the deserted streets, Dr. Rashid Khan, a new resident of Gaya(a small town in eastern India in the state of Bihar) is idling in his study trying to endure the soaring temperatures.

(Dr. Khan recently moved as the resident doctor on deputation at the district hospital , on a short assignment for 6 months)

His wife, Nikhat and the kids were in a town called Deoghar.She could not join Dr.Khan because of her job, not to forget the peak summers.Summer vacations were about to begin in two weeks, Nikhat and the kids were to visit Gaya then.

It was 4pm, Dr.Khan picked up the phone hoping to talk to Nikhat and the kids, Amir and Roja.

Rashid and Nikhat chatted for a while, after checking all the boxes of discussing the new town , the weather ,the accommodation, they started chatting about human behavior as Rashid described his move and the journey.

Dr. Khan after getting off the call made some Chai and stationed himself in the study, sorting the books he had brought with him . There were books on Gaya, food , religion and more. He had a habit of documenting his readings , in a little black diary, always ready to capture interesting nuggets that would make for good conversation starters over Chai.

As he went about his business, there was a huge clanking noise from the kitchen area as if something heavy was being dragged. He sprang from the chair and hurried towards the kitchen. To his dismay not an atom had moved.

It was confusing , since he definitely had heard something. He would have attributed the sound to a neighbor, but given the size of the house,it seemed improbable. After 5 minutes of critical analysis, he concluded that it must have been the tin door on the roof , which was flimsy enough to create a sonic boom under a gust and with the warm air blowing , this deduction made perfect sense.

He did not think about the sound for another minute. To Gaya's relief it was drizzling outside, a very uncommon event for the month of April. No one complained.

Dr. Khan joined the hospital the next day, the drizzle had paved the way for a hot and humid day, the worst kind of symphony.

The day flew by, the clock struck 7 and it was accompanied by loud sounds from the dining space, as if things were dragged over the floor again.

Rashid ran to the dining area, suspecting it could be some animal. He was anxious, but everything was in perfect order, which aggravated the situation. It was not at all windy today.

He stood there for 15 minutes unsuccessful in deciphering the noise source. He retreated to the living room and picked up the phone to call Nikhat and distract himself from thinking too much about the noise. The noise didn’t come up in the conversation.

Dr.Khan spent the next few days focused on work, getting acquainted with the staff and the hospital space.

It was almost 8pm on Friday, he parked the scooter and entered the house , took a shower and came back to the living room to watch some TV. He had kept the door open,to facilitate some cross ventilation as his “Cooler”, which was a gigantic fan attached to a mini water reservoir, a regular feature in Indian households, had been rendered ineffective by the humidity.

Suddenly, someone was at the doorstep. A tall brawny man, probably in his early forties, he flaunted a spotless white shirt and gray trousers. Rashid was thinking , as he walked towards the door:* "Who is this man, is he one of my patients? "Maybe a neighbor has come to say hello".

Greetings were exchanged. The gentleman stretched out his hand holding what looked like a little black book, similar to Dr.Khan’s diary, only thicker and hard bound. After what seemed like eternity, Dr. Khan said, “I am sorry, do I know you?", there was no reply, only an outstretched hand clutching the diary.

He was growing anxious as time passed. He took it from the stranger's hand only to realize there was a pen used as a bookmark in the diary. There was something written on the first page.

Dear Resident,

This is to convey my best regards to you and your family.

Like you, I have a family too and we live in the very same house as you. This letter is to request your kindness to spare a room for me and my family. We have moved our stuff to a room adjoining the dining area .If it would bring you peace, you may bolt the room from the outside.

This is also to convey that we mean no harm and would not imagine causing any discomfort. With this I remain and expect you to consider the same.

Yours sincerely

Dr. Khan’s eyes were now transfixed on the diary, the pages of the diary were thick and sturdy, seemingly old and pale yellow. He looked up to ask, "Is this some kind of a prank?”

Just to realize that there was no one at the door.

He rushed to the gate, but in vain, there was nobody there or on the street. His heart pounded; hands were cold despite the temperature outside. He was on the edge of his thoughts and could not stop thinking about the encounter. He was rattled as the phone rang, it was Nikhat, Rashid found something else to talk about.

He could hardly sleep. It was a very busy day at the hospital the next day. He was busy in his web of tangential thoughts as he drove back into the premises of the house.

He was very surprised to find the black book on the coffee table without having any memory of keeping it there. The pen was on the same page as the previous day, the first thought that came to his mind was , "the house has three bedrooms, sparing a room is not a big deal”

He spoke to Nikhat afterwards about these events in great detail. She was convinced that this was one of Rashid's new stories on and decided to play along and also agreed to keep the children out of it. They were supposed to come to Gaya the week after. It was decided, he bolted the room near the dining area , took the black book and kept it on the study table and tried to catch some sleep.

The next morning was different, he was still trying to piece together a rational explanation. The turbulence inside him was almost audible. With all these thoughts, he slowly stepped into the house and to his sheer bewilderment , the little black book was sitting on the coffee table in the living room.

Hesitantly , he picked it up , the pen was on a different page this time, it read

" Thank you for your kind act. Please let us know if we can be of help. Just write in the diary and we will try our best”

Your Friend

Dr. Khan went spiraling into many emotions running through him of which fear was new.

He left for work and did not attend many patients that day. He left work early.Nikhat and the kids were supposed to arrive the next evening.

He went back home , took a shower, made some chai and settled down in the living room. Human body and sleep have a very strange dynamic, like food. One's body craves sleep too but unlike eating food , your body can force you to sleep when it's tired , almost like an invisible force getting its way.

He woke up to find it was already 8 am. The rest of the day passed in cleaning the house. The clock struck 4 as he sat down with his cuppa. He could hear himself breathing,the only thing that moved was the door, and in came Nikhat with the kids. Mr. Khan was relieved, but he missed the rush of adrenaline too.

Rashid and Nikhat talked about everything , and she mentioned how funny he sounded while narrating the “story”. Rashid asked her to follow him, and showed the bolted door and the black book. She realized that he was not making this up. They agreed that it was best to keep it as is and moved to the dining area.

Evenings passed; the noises had stopped. The little black book stayed on his study table; no new letters to read. Life was back to normal, but the room remained closed. There was almost an air of nonchalance, which was disconcerting.

It was the last week of June, the vacations were ending. Nikhat and the kids were supposed to go back.

It was the month of July; it was raining heavily. Dr. Khan sat in his office, lines of despair running through his face narrating a thousand stories about his state of mind. Amir and Roja were not doing well, they had what seemed like a viral fever. Many children in the colony were also suffering from it. All the doctors were trying their best to understand this spread and control it.

The children including Amir and Roja were not responding to the meds.

Both Nikhat and Rashid were sitting and glancing out of the window, hoping for the rain drops to punctuate their thoughts , Rashid quipped, "What if I wrote a letter"

Nikhat was initially hesitant, but it had been a grueling week with sleepless nights, and they could use some hope, so she agreed before she left for the hospital to visit the kids for the night.

Rashid settled down in his study, carefully opening the black book and used the pen in it to describe the illness in detail, the medicines prescribed and all the symptoms. He did it. He put the pen on the page. He closed the diary and placed it on the study table.

It was the longest night Rashid had spent in months. He slept at 4 am, only to wake up at 7 to the noise of a door closing.

To his amazement, the little black book sat on the living room’s coffee table, the pen on a new page, but there was nothing written on the page. He was confused and disappointed; two emotions he never thought he would experience in a situation like this.

He decided to visit the hospital early so that Nikhat could catch some rest. He overheard "the fever has dropped below 100 for the first time in four days". He nearly jumped a little and ran and chatted about what medications were working and if they needed to change the dosages and frequency.

Rashid exchanged glances with Nikhat and she immediately knew what he was thinking. They did not discuss it any further.

Nikhat decided to take some time off and extend the stay for the kids to recover fully. They left for Deoghar a couple of weeks later.

Dr.Khan never stopped thinking about that little black book. He continued his good work day in and out, serving the people, but as all good things, this had to come to an end too.

Most of his belongings had been packed and were ready to be dispatched. He was standing in the living room, surveying and making a checklist of things. What happened the very next moment, almost made his legs weak . He could see the little black book lying in the space where the coffee table was. He lifted it with great apprehension, the pen was on a new page, it read:

Dear Dr. Khan,

"We are comfortable living with you and your family. Please consider our request and take us along to wherever you are going".

Your Friend