Magical Venom of Doctor Asthana

Dr. Asthana was renowned and only doctor of our village. There was no such disease he was unaware of and didn’t cure us. Typhoid, Malaria, Jaundice, Diarrhea, name it and Doctor Saab is ready with his medicine and an injection. Whenever he inserted that magical pin in us, we felt safe. Not only that, he almost knew all the members of the village personally. I was sometimes bold over by his amazing memory because he enumerated all the symptoms of a disease almost instantly with the prescribed medicines and the proper prevention of such disease. He is in our village for almost 15 years now and I don’t even remember the first time I visited him. He was the god of our village. He was famous among the people, for his magical venom. Once in your body, it will work the same as the snake bite for the Bheema, one of the five Pandavas. He is one of our family. Everyone used to share his or her life with him. Dr Asthana, a patient listener and also a good philosophist used to give his important advice for life also.
Ramesh Babu often tells the story behind the Magical Venom. Dr Asthana was a kid when he visited this village. Soon after he came, an epidemic followed the village. There used to be no hospital around our village, the nearest being 40 kilometres from here. Dr Asthana single handedly saved the whole village with his injections. There were times when he travelled in his Bajaj Chetak all the way to Saransh Hospital to bring his supplies. Within a fortnight, the disease was a myth. After that, every single villager is fan and owes him a part of their life.
Me also was obliged to him. I used to suffer from stomach troubles in my early ages. But Dr Asthana cured me. I was treated for almost 12 months for the complete cure of my stomach. Not only this, he even helped me to complete my higher education from the city. When he asked my parents to send me to the city, they were reluctant but knowing that Dr. Asthana will take a complete care of my well-being there, they couldn’t refuse. But Dr. Asthana told me, that I should come back to my village as serve it, because there is no other good deed than helping people. As promised, I came back after completing my course and taught the future generation in the school. My mother as well as Doctor Saab himself were very happy.

6.45pm. Seven hours already. No sign of Dr. Asthana.
My mother suffered from an heart attack this morning. I was about to leave the house when my mother collapsed. I called him and he rushed to our home. Then he made a call and asked me to drive the car. We took my mother to the Saransh hospital, no, not 50 kilometres from here but 5 kilometres away. Thank the God it was shifted very near and us with proper travelling connection. We reached in 7 minutes and my mother was rushed in the operation theatre. From then till now, Dr. Asthana was in there. I didn’t, specifically I couldn’t sit for a second on the chair but moved to and fro around the OT. I knew my mother was getting old, but not once in my life, I saw her getting sick. She used to laugh at my rate of getting ill. Never took a medicine, she looked perfectly fine for her age. I lost my father early in my life, so my mother was my everything. She was my companion, my preacher, my teacher, and my friend. There was not a single stuff of me she was unaware of. Even after I grew up, she listened to all my talks patiently. I felt alone in the city so much that I used to call her twice almost every day.
During the last seven hours, I didn’t stop praying to the God for once. I was hoping for a good news from Dr. Asthana.
The OT door opened finally after eight long hours. Dr. Asthana walked out towards me.
“Your doctor’s magical venom has worked again, Your mother is safe and sound. You can meet her as soon as we transfer her to the ICU.

The Zahir - Paulo Coelho

I have heard of The Alchemist almost a million of times. But have never read it. Actually I was not much in reading until one day, I felt that I have got bored of almost all the things occupying my life, so I thought to switch my interests. I went to the oldest and hopefully the only library each member of my family has been to, and took a membership paying for the highest option available. Soon, I started searching for my first book. Its not that I am so detached with books. I have read all the three novels of Chetan Bhagat and The Da Vinci Code, The Last Don. But they are the one of the few books I ever read in my 19 years of lifeterm. So, I would like to term this my first book as in terms of seriousness.
After a lot of searching, I found a book written by a writer I have heard of. Although I didn’t read any of his books, as heard from my guardians, The Alchemist is a must read book. I didn’t get the Alchemist. Since it is a bestseller, you expect it to be always issued. So, I took The Zahir, another novel written by Paulo Coelho. I took the novel because I knew the word, Zahir but in terms of cricket. Nothing beyond that. And this meager relation between the book and me compelled me to take the book. So, as you must have guessed, as the librarian was busy making my cards, I thought to sneek peek through the book. For me, the book’s first impression is definitely the last impression. I find it to hard to read a book if the first 10 pages aren’t sounding interesting.
But the book caught my involvement on the very first place. I studied the first 10 pages, and when I looked the clock and the page number, I got to know that I have already reached the 20th page of the book. And I didn’t stop reading it until my metro reached my destination and I had to change for a bus in which I was standing.
The Zahir, is a story of a novel writer, who doesn’t write novels. I mean that he dreamt of being a novelist, but is satisfied with the small articles and comic-strips he is asked to fill. Until one day, he marries a girl who asks him to follow his dream. With much quarrels and blackmailing, the writer starts his novel which becomes to be a huge hit. But his life changes magnificiently by a series of events. He finds his wife missing one day, probably gone. Then the story describes the search by the person for his wife and for his oneself.

The Zahir doesn’t has any proper definition but as understood by the various lines in which this word is used, it can be termed as a passion, a madness, and a strong feeling for something you like to have. As the story advances, the Zahir increases in the novelist and he tries hard to get back to it.
There are many parts of the story which are based on true spiritualism and philosophy, something which needs a out of the world understanding. As my first book, I enjoyed every part of it because I am myself some kind of philosophist, eager to give speeches and help whenever needed. And those of my friends who know this quality of me, take the full advantage

The Plight

I have never been on the other side of the prison. I have always chosen to be on the safe side of the life avoiding the unnecessary risks. But recently, I have been getting a nice spanking from my boss due to the declining position of our company. I assured that this decline is short-termed and inevitable, but he doesn’t seem to care. Today again he started raging on me when I was driving the car home. My mood was totally off after a hard day’s work and the fury caught me. I jumped two red-lights and almost ran over a pedestrian before the traffic police caught me. And my madness was not over yet because I slapped him hard before he could slam me with any charges.
So, my car was confiscated the same moment and I was deported to the nearest police station on charges of Rash Driving, culpable homicide and hitting of a police officer on duty. I was sitting in the prison and it was my worst day of my life. My morning started with a quarrel with my wife, then with my boss and now a police officer for all the wrong reasons. I was not fancying a dirty room filled with all the disgusting criminals, so I preferred standing aloof at one corner.
‘You are here not by will, are you?’ I was startled by a voice speaking English in the room but I chose not to answer. I looked around and no one seem to me enough capable to speak such a difficult language. Difficult because it took me 6 months of intense practice and hard work to master this language. And all this because I had to clear the CAT examinations on the same year I completed my graduation to save my family from an economic slump. Today, I am the youngest happily married successful manager in my company and many people envy me for this very reason.
‘You don’t seem interested in talking with anybody here.’ I looked around and saw a person in tattered clothes speaking English as fluently as possible. It was amazing to see a human so good with literature involved in crime.
‘I don’t prefer talking with criminals. You don’t deserve to live on this earth.’
‘Hmmm…. Frankly speaking I am not angry with what you spoke just now. Come sit. These words don’t suit you as you are on the same side of the world as me.’
I don’t know why but some part of me pulled me to that persona. I sat by his side.
‘So, why are you here? Inspecting the scenario from inside?’
My eyes was meanwhile scrutinizing this guy. Medium built in his thirties or early forties. Scars all over the body, wearing stale prison clothes but carrying a glimpse in his eyes.
‘May I ask you a question?’
‘Sure. Shoot.’
‘What made you land here? You don’t seem to me that foolish to do something you are not supposed to.’
‘Do you think we are all here by choice? We don’t choose this life, it chooses us. And the person making this choice is always left with one option.’
‘We always have options in life, on every field, on every moment. What matters is our wise decisions at that moment.’
‘Is it? I was a senior manager at the Lehman Brothers, USA for almost eight years. And my life was most luxurious of all my friends I grew up with. A green card holder, with a 3-floor home at Nariman Point, happily married. I was on a dream ride. But in September, all my dreams crashed with the company. I had to come back in India with no work. I tried to start a business in here but the economic slowdown in the world also twitched my business. All my savings were lost. I had to sell the my house at Nariman Point in not so good price and which could support my family for three months only. The life couldn’t get worse till my wife was detected with a stomach cancer. I was helpless. I went to banks, for a loan, but wasn’t allowed. None of the companies in India offered me a job. My friends refused to help me in my time of crisis. My life showed me the best and the worst in a moment. My wife’s health was deteriorating. I could devise no other method to save my world but to step into a robbery. I raided a bank to loot some cash but couldn’t. The police caught me midway and I was arrested. For three days, I cried in the jail, pleading the officer to get me to my ailing wife, but was beaten to pulp. On the fourth day, the officer came to me to inform that my wife lost her breath in the hospital. I was allowed to come out of the jail to go for my wife’s funeral. I was standing with just the security officials accompanying me, no friends no relatives. Today I am helpless with no friends. No one likes to be a friend of a outlaw. My lawyer is fighting hard to reduce my sentence to the least as possible. But you know what, I don’t want to get back. Outside, I will be alone fighting with the souls carrying innumerable questions with no answers. And my inner self will haunt me doubting my abilities to do was I was supposed to.’

‘Aaditya Raajan. Aaditya Raajan. Come, you are being bailed.’
My brother was standing. His eyes were asking me reasons. I couldn’t speak a word with him and moved out.