Read Mumbaistan Online

Authors: Piyush Jha

Mumbaistan (17 page)

Saakshi motioned to Porus to lie down. He obeyed. She took off his riding boots. 'Porus, I'm putting you under observation for twenty-four hours. I need you to relax,' she said.

Porus smiled and meekly said, 'Yes, doctor.'

Saakshi giggled.

'Come here, give me a kiss.' Porus pulled her towards him.

She went into his arms and slowly rubbed herself all over his body. Sensing his arousal, she started giving him a deep, wet kiss. In a few seconds, she broke away.
'Chee!
Porus, your mouth smells foul!'

Porus looked apologetic.

'Sorry, what am I doing? I'm supposed to be calming you down,' she said in mock anger. She patted Porus's cheek and left the room.

'I'll send the sister with some Alprazolam,' she called out from the door.

Porus nodded. 'Yes, that will help me relax.'


The nurse had left a minute back. The sister had fussed around him, asking him to change out of his clothes into a hospital gown, which he had politely refused. However, he had lain down and let the sister administer an injection. Now he was lying relaxed, his eyes shut.

Virkar entered the observation room, and walked to his bedside. Porus half-opened his eyes.

'Are you the one who left the envelope?' Porus came to the point.

Virkar nodded.

Porus reached inside his pant pocket and extracted the envelope.

'Here it is. I don't know whether to curse you or to thank you.'

Virkar took the envelope.

'I think you actually did me a favour. I had lost my way,' said Porus.

'So?' Porus sighed. 'So goodbye, my friend.'

Virkar looked nonplussed.

Porus smiled, 'The Injectionwala has been given a deadly injection.'

Virkar burst out in agitation,

'But can't we do anything? An antidote perhaps... something? You are in a hospital, Godammit!'

Porus continued to smile. 'Don't worry! Thanks to you, I was prepared.' He winked.

Virkar stood looking at him. The smile remained on Porus's face, the eyes still held Virkar's gaze, but all movement slowly stopped.

Virkar stayed there for a few minutes, hoping to see some signs of life appear miraculously. He felt that although Porus's limbs were frozen, he was still conscious and aware of his surroundings. Porus let out a weak shudder and shut his eyes.

Virkar then shook himself out of his trance. The envelope slipped from his grasp. He picked it up and opened it. It had a photograph inside. It was a candid picture of Dr Jetha inside his secret operation theatre, extracting a kidney from the body of an unconscious man. What was more interesting was the fact that he was being assisted in the operation by none other than his loyal daughter, Dr Saakshi Jetha.


Dr Saakshi Jetha sat on her chair in her office room, absolutely still. Yet, if someone could read her mind, they would realize that she was desperately trying to reach the call bell to summon Joshi, the peon. But her limbs would not obey her brain. She decided to topple herself off the chair, in the hope that the noise would attract Joshi's attention. But her legs didn't seem to exist at all. She could see them, but she couldn't feel them. Her brain wanted to scream out, 'Joshi!' But her tongue was frozen. In any case, she realized that it was of no use. Joshi was, as usual, out for his chai break at this time.

Slowly, her third-year toxicology professor's voice began to play in her mind, like an old, extra-stretched tape. The professor was explaining, 'The poison has a strong, fetid odour. You can't miss its foul smell! After ingestion, symptoms of paralysis occur within half an hour. The central nervous system is not affected and the person remains conscious and aware for a while, until respiratory paralysis results in cessation of breathing. After some time, breathing becomes very slow and then stops. Lips go blue and then the fingers and toes also turn blue. The skin colour becomes pallid. The brain will be starved of oxygen and death will follow soon.'

Slowly, every sound faded away. Only one line kept repeating in her brain, 'Porus's kiss...Porus's kiss...Porus's kiss...'


 

Twist in the Injectionwala Tale

 

In a new and bizarre twist to the Injectionwala case, a young doctor, Dr Porus Udwadia, was found dead in a ward in Johnson Medical College. Moments later, another doctor, Dr Saakshi Jetha's body was discovered in her office. Dr Saakshi was the daughter of murder victim Dr Animesh Jetha, the brains behind the sensational kidney racket.

A piece of chewing gum in Dr Porus Udwadia's mouth was found to contain coniine. Historically, coniine, popularly known as hemlock, is the poison that killed the Greek philosopher, Socrates.

However, on further examination, traces of Alprazolam were also found in Dr Udwadia's system. According to experts, Alprazolam is a drug commonly used to handle anxiety attacks, but it is administered only in the form of tablets. An injection of this drug is especially dangerous because, when crushed in water, it does not fully dissolve, causing severe damage to the arteries and a fatal overdose.

On interrogation, the staff nurse confessed that she was specifically instructed to administer the injection by Dr Saakshi Jetha.

After examining Dr Saakshi Jetha's stomach contents, it was found that she, too, had been poisoned with coniine, although it is unclear how the poison was administered to her.

Sources allege that Dr Saakshi Jetha, may have been involved in her father's racket.

It is not known whether the alleged Injectionwala, Rakesh Awasthi, knew either of these victims. Police are still searching for any possible connection between Dr Porus Udwadia and the Injectionwala case.


As he entered Cursetjee Castle, Maakad Nakwa in tow, Virkar's mind was set. 'They may conjecture all they want, but they will never be able to prove it. Porus suffered enough.'

It took Maakad the better part of three minutes to get them inside Porus's apartment.

It took Virkar fifteen minutes to remove every trace of connection between Dr Porus Udwadia and the Injectionwala.

Justice had been served. Virkar style.


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Coma Man

 

 

 

 

N
aked. Beautiful. Uninhibited.

Standing on the first-floor balcony of their cottage, she looked every inch an ethereal goddess who had descended on earth to please one man alone. Him. Samir Khanna.

Her long hair fluttered in the wind blowing in from the sea. The setting sun unleashed an orange sunbeam that seeped through the tiny gap between the buildings opposite the cottage, and lit up the contours of her body.

'So, what are you giving me for my birthday?' The cheeky, dimpled pout on Bahaar's face made her look so much more endearing.

It was then that she noticed the velvet box he was holding in his hands. An excited shiver ran through her body as she sprang towards the box. She opened it, instantly going into paroxysms of delight on seeing its contents.

She pulled out the diamond necklace from the box and clasped it around her slender neck. Shining gallant in the rapidly dipping sunlight, the necklace seemed to salute her allure. She smiled, the twinkle in her eyes matching the gleam of the diamonds.

Samir's body resonated with desire as she walked into his arms.


'Today is my wife's birthday, too,' he said, as he rose from the bed he had been occupying for almost twenty years.

The sound of his voice startled Sister Sandra, she turned to look at the only other person present in the small special room tucked away at the back of the Bhonsale Medical Trust Hospital in CBD Belapur, Navi Mumbai.

Coma Man, as he had come to be referred to by the few who knew about his existence in the hospital, was sitting upright in his bed. Shocked, she dropped the dirty clothes and sponge pan she was carrying. She had just finished her daily ritual of shaving Coma Man's stubble, sponging him, dressing him in fresh white pajamas and half-sleeved shirt and then laying him back in a position that applied the least amount of pressure on his bedsores. Over the years, Coma Man had gone from young to middle-aged and yet, his features remained ruggedly handsome. Although his limbs had been prone, his muscles had not atrophied. 'Because of myostatin suppression, due to some kind of brain chemical imbalance,' a doctor had explained to her long back.

Often, she would gaze at his immobile face and wish that she had such a good-looking man in her life. As was her practice, she would chatter away about some inane topic or the other, which she believed would put Coma Man in a good mood. Today, she had been talking about the birthday party that she was going to attend that evening on the terrace of her friend's building. She had expressed her fear that rain may spoil the party, since it was already 15 June. The sharp jerk of his head had given her a start, even though she had keenly monitored his extraordinary progress since he had started coming out of his coma, almost eight weeks ago. Although he had shown rapid improvement and gained some amount of motor function in his limbs, he had never made this kind of sudden movement. She looked into his eyes. The eyes that had worn a glazed look for the last nineteen years seemed sharp today, almost as if he had a secret he was bursting to share. Sister Sandra had wondered what was going on in Coma Man's mind. Now, she knew.

Sister Sandra nearly fell on her knees as he took his first firm step off the bed. After nursing his prone body for so many years, hearing him speak and seeing him walk was nothing short of a miracle. Coma Man seemed unaware of the amazing feat he was putting up as he took slow, yet steady, steps towards her.

'I'm going home,' he said. 'It's my wife's birthday.' Sister Sandra was unsure of what she should do. Like everyone else in the hospital, she had no idea who Coma Man really was.

'Do you know where your home is?' She finally found her voice.

'No, but I will find out,' Coma Man continued, albeit confused. The Sister now remembered that it was her duty not to let patients leave the hospital, unaccompanied. She stood blocking Coma Man's path to the door. But his pleading look was enough to melt her. If ever there was a man in love, here he was. Something inside her told her to put aside hospital rules. This is God's will, she thought. She directed him towards the back door, which opened on to the unguarded back gate of the hospital. He gave her a smile that seemed to make all the years spent tending to him worth it.

'Before you go, won't you tell me your name?' she called out. He didn't stop, but replied over his shoulder, 'My name is Samir Khanna.'


Madhukar Bhonsale, the chief trustee of the Bhonsale Medical Trust Hospital, had just got up after a long night of drinking alone in his penthouse in Kharghar, Navi Mumbai. He had still not recovered from his massive hangover when his chief medical officer called to give him the information that Coma Man was missing from the hospital.

Madhukar had been camped in Kharghar for the past six weeks after he had heard the news from the CMO about Coma Man coming out of his coma. The CMO had been working at the hospital only for the past eight years and didn't know much about Coma Man, except that he was supposed to be kept in the small special ward at the back of the hospital and was to be provided all the medical care that only VIP patients received. Being a non-interfering, let-me-keep-my-job type, the CMO had quietly kept sanctioning all the facilities that were required for Coma Man. In fact, when the patient had suddenly come out of his coma, he had had no idea what to do. Luckily, the CMO had called Madhukar before his eager deputy had gone to the local press to announce this almost miraculous happening. Madhukar had instructed the CMO to clamp down on any news. He wanted no mention of Coma Man even within hospital premises. The CMO had duly complied.

But now, Madhukar's fingers trembled as he disconnected his mobile. He knew that his dark secret was about to come to light.

As he pulled on his clothes, his thoughts went back to that fateful night nineteen years ago, in 1993. He had been young and full of daredevilry. After having downed one whisky peg too many, he had decided to drive down to Pune to meet an ex-girlfriend for a drunken romp. He had been driving on the Mumbai-Pune highway when, somewhere near Panvel, he had passed by a truck accident that had just taken place. The truck was smashed against a tree by the highway Madhukar had been drunk and didn't want to get involved, so he had driven past without stopping to help. A little further up the road, his conscience had got the better of him and he had decided to go back. As he swung back, he heard a thump against his car. He stopped the car and sprang out. Outside, he saw a young man lying on the side of the road, unconscious, but not dead. The man had apparently been hit by his car. Madhukar, who was scared that he may be slapped with a case of drunken and rash driving, rushed the man to the then spanking new Bhonsale Medical Trust Hospital at CBD Belapur, started by his father, Dr Ganpatrao Bhonsale, a renowned surgeon. The man didn't have any identification on him, and was bleeding from a head wound. But since Madhukar himself had brought the man in, his father had not informed the police and had personally taken the man into treatment. Dr Bhonsale had operated upon the man, who had had multiple fractures, apart from severe brain trauma, and still had managed to save the man's life. But the man had slipped into a coma. The doctor had wanted to inform the police, but had been emotionally blackmailed by Madhukar's mother to keep the whole incident a secret, because she felt that the future of her beloved son was at stake. Dr Bhonsale kept scanning the papers for reports of missing people, but apart from the usual reports of rioting in Mumbai and sundry crimes, there was none. One small, insignificant report of a truck accident off Panvel had appeared, though, where a truck, laden with leather goods, had swung off the highway. Its driver had been killed on the spot. But there was no mention of a missing man.

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