I was 5 years old. Those days electricity in our homes went off randomly. No scheduled cuts. We had a small balcony in our house which is unheard of nowadays. It was summer. Hot even at night. On one such day electricity was deprived for a very long time. It was night time and I was sleeping, or rather trying to sleep, on a narrow cot which was kept in the balcony - waiting for God to intervene and give us some light. It was almost 2 o’clock in the night when suddenly lights came on. God took His time but he had heard me alright. I was excited and tried to jump from the cot. But I slipped and tripped on the pillow which was kept on the cot, and fell. And how I fell! Nosedived straight onto the ledge of the balcony which separated the hall. It was a thick, solid ledge and looked even more solid to this 5 year old boy. I cut badly on the forehead and started bleeding profusely. My parents who had earlier heard my shrill of excitement realised that It sounded more like a scream now.
They rushed and saw me bleeding, and immediately took me to our family doctor who lived the closest. Not trusting the hospitals and having complete faith in our doctor. The doctor lived in the same building where he had his clinic. Upon arrival we realised our family doctor was on vacation and his assistant was going to treat me. I started bleeding more. The assistant in charge did not look like a doctor from any angle. Our vacationing doctor had put all his faith and hopefully his skills in this guy’s hands. I was more scared now. But the assistant seemed to take no notice of it. He seemed unperturbed- as if he had seen this kind of case hundreds of times. I saw no equipment to treat me. Now, I was damn sure I would be his first case. My dad was holding me all this while. The assistant opened the tap of a sink which looked like the only medical instrument around. Cold water started flowing. Without hesitation or rather thinking, the assistant took me from dad’s able hands. He lifted me upside down and put my whole face under the sink. I didn’t know what was happening. What kind of first-aid was this? I screeamed but immediately closed my mouth fearing this guy would be whack me on my bum for being a bad patient. Not even in school I had feared that. I was getting over-flushed. The gush of water kept hitting my forehead. Blood kept oozing out. The assistant kept smiling. And my dad didn’t know where to look or do.
Finally, the assistant was satisfied. He smiled again as if he had half-performed the surgery. I was in and out of consciousness. Didn’t matter so long as this surgeon was happy.
He took me out of the sink and handed me back to my dad. He told my dad to make me sit on a chair - which was his operating table. He got a thread and a needle after rummaging through the drawers - Was he a surgeon or a tailor? - Closed his one eye, put the thread through the needle in one shot - Bulls eye!- and started stitching my forehead up without any further ceremony. Midway he realised he had to inject me for infection or such a thing. So he paused, told my dad to hold me straight, injected k me with an even more weird looking thing, and restarted his sculpture. He was humming. Maybe I was a good model. The whole process took less than five minutes. He turned my face here and there and inspected my forehead admiring his art. Satisfied.
Then he remembered to ask me how I was feeling. Blood had stopped, replaced by tears. I mumbled something vague. He seemed happy. My dad asked about the fees. At first he refused. Then remembered it was not his clinic so asked to be paid when the real doctor came. Not sure how much his artwork would cost, we thanked him and said our goodbyes.
My head was hurting but to be honest, it was hurting less. Not sure how much time, money and energy would have been spent had we gone to a hospital. With all his shenanigans, if truth be told, this guy was godsent. Little rough but effective. Not sure where we would have gone with little money, in the middle of the night, and half the city sleeping. Later on, I got to know that this guy was a military doctor, hence the speed, no emotion, no drama.
This surgery or procedure left a scar on my forehead. Over time it has faded, and kinda makes me look intelligent now. As if I am in some deep thinking mode….
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