The Bachelor Son, the Miserable Father
“When someone storms into your clinic without an appointment or a slip, there's a high chance they’re an acquaintance. And if they follow it up with ‘Recognize me?’ then you can be sure you’re in for an extended, unsolicited interaction.”
Sitting in my OPD, deeply engaged in my daily routine of fixing broken bones and aligning joints, I was met with an unannounced visitor. The loud, unapologetic entrance, paired with the aforementioned line, was enough to make me realize this was no ordinary patient but someone who considered their social familiarity a valid replacement for medical protocol.
From experience, I knew their real purpose wasn’t treatment. They would first demand tea, then regale me with unnecessary chatter, throw in a few sarcastic jabs, and finally, as an afterthought, narrate their ‘health issue.’ Whatever prescription I handed them would eventually be crumpled and stuffed into their pocket with such disdain that it would remind me of my ‘real place’ in their hierarchy of acquaintances.
Anyway, I was used to such encounters. I played along, recognizing him quickly and ordering tea to expedite his departure. In a moment of misjudgment, I casually asked, “Uncle, what’s your son up to these days? Must be married by now, right?”
The effect was instant. His expression changed, his hands gripped the chair tighter, his eyes narrowed, and as he removed his glasses to wipe them, I suspected he was dabbing away a few tears. Offering him water to replenish the sudden loss of bodily fluids seemed like the only polite thing to do.
With a deep sigh, he lamented, “What times we live in! By God’s grace, we have everything—reputation, wealth. My elder daughter is married well, my son has a great job in Bengaluru, but my younger son…35 now, runs our family business, but we can’t find a match for him! He’s rejected ten proposals. And now, for the past five years, no new ones are even coming in! Our so-called well-wishers? They seem more intent on ensuring we never get a match than actually helping us!”
I knew his type well. A man who spent his life organizing community marriage events, matching prospective brides and grooms, delivering grand speeches on traditional values. Yet, here he was, unable to arrange his own son’s wedding.
Finally, with desperation evident in his eyes, he muttered, “Doctor, if you know any girl…even a widow or divorcee, we’re open to it. He’s overaged now…what else can we do?”
I almost chuckled at the irony. This was the same man who had advocated for the boycott of inter-caste marriages, judged others for their ‘compromised’ unions, and now, he himself was contemplating the very alternative he once ridiculed.
By then, the tea had arrived. He took a sip, composed himself, and stood up to leave. It was only as he reached the door that I realized—he hadn’t even mentioned a medical problem. Out of courtesy, I asked, “Uncle, what about your health?”
He sighed and waved it off, “Oh, nothing serious, I just came to see you.”
And with that, he walked out, leaving behind a room full of irony.
Dr. Mukesh 'Aseemit'
Mobile Number -9785007828
Mail ID -thefocusunlimited@gmail.com
