DOCTOR STALKER SPY

Two guys and a girl
USHA NARAYANAN

‘I’m getting married!’ said Dr Kamna Kishore, her delicate oval face serene, her lips a perfect bow under a coat of Fatal Red lipstick.

Her hair was tinted a glossy brown sugar and framed her face perfectly. She had gone from black to burgundy, from straight to permed and from short to extra long so often and so fast that her hair was probably having an identity crisis. At 5’9”, her lithe, gracefully curved body clad in cream pants and a black formal top made her look like a glam model for an international clothing line.

In reality, however, Kamna was a senior member of the bustling psychiatry wing of one of Chennai’s leading hospitals. She wore plain glasses in a ploy to make herself seem older, as people were diffident about taking her seriously because she was so young and stunning. More often than not, however, the glasses ended up being pushed into her hair, as they were now.

Hearing Kamna’s announcement about her marriage, her colleague Annie shrieked, dumped her patient files on the table and grabbed her arm. ‘You’re getting married? When? To whom?’ she asked excitedly.

She then stopped and gazed intently at her friend’s face. Was Kamna pulling her leg, using her as a guinea pig for her psych profiles? After all, she hadn’t said anything earlier about being in love or receiving a proposal. Maybe marriage was just another item on Kamna’s list of things to do, along with visiting Machu Picchu or telling off the HR head Jagdish, whom she referred to as Jug Ears because of the shape of his ears.

The two women were in the doctors’ lounge, which was empty now as a cake cutting ceremony for Jagdish’s birthday was going on in the chairman’s room. Annie had come here to drag Kamna to the celebration, knowing that her friend hated these gatherings.

Kamna was a real stunner and she was also brilliant, with her scores from a US university leaving Jagdish dumbstruck at her interview. He had quickly hired her, knowing that any hospital in the world would be happy to have her.

Annie was thirty-two to Kamna’s twenty-nine. She was comfortably plump, comfortably married and comfortably good-natured.

When Kamna didn’t answer, Annie asked again, ‘Tell me who the lucky guy is. Is it Purush? Or is it someone your father fixed up?’

‘My father?’ Kamna scoffed. ‘He has been trying for years to fix me up with the eligible son of some rich Mumbai businessman. He should know me better by now. In fact, I probably do a lot of things just to annoy him, like I stuck to psychiatry when I found out he didn’t approve. My mother was always the bridge between us. But once she died…it was like Dad and I were living on two different planets. Neither of us could communicate with the other.’

Kamna paused, her face pensive. Her mother had truly cared for her, unlike her father who regarded her merely as a troublesome chit. Kamna had resolved to make a life for herself far away from him, for she could never forget what he had snatched away from her.

But why think of all that now? Kamna grinned at her friend and answered her question. ‘I don’t know who the man will be. I have merely decided to get married to someone who is settled in Chennai. I love the city. I’ve bought an apartment here. My home loan is almost fully paid up. And I want a dog.’

Annie’s face creased with anxiety. ‘Did you have anything to eat this morning?’ she asked. ‘Are you on one of your diets? You sound even crazier than usual!’

Kamna often tried out different diets in order to study the effects of food on mood swings, saying that patients often lied about what they had eaten. Annie looked at Kamna’s enchantingly slender form and wished that she had half the self-control her friend had. She patted her own little tummy and told herself, Fifty push-ups today, my friend.

‘Hey? Where did you go?’ Kamna was snapping her fingers in Annie’s face. ‘So, do you approve of my get-married-this-year resolution?’

‘I don’t think it’s going to happen, considering you don’t have the most important requirement in place,’ said Annie, rolling her eyes.

‘I’ll find a groom, don’t worry. Someone smart and handsome, who will take my word as gospel.’

‘Marry Purush then. He qualifies on all counts and he is totally smitten by you.’

‘Smitten, bitten, whatever,’ Kamna shrugged. ‘I guess he is fine, though a little too stodgy.’

‘Remember that you’re talking about the head of oncology who’s got all the women in a tizzy. I think he’s hot too, with his silver-streaked hair and confident air. Also, you know him well, so there will be no nasty surprises after marriage.’

Kamna tilted her head to one side as she thought about it. ‘Yeah, I’ve known him for three years now, ever since I joined this hospital. He’s rather sweet in an old-fashioned way. He opens doors for me, brings me flowers. And he’s no mean kisser either.’

‘Aha, you’ve kissed him then. What else? How come you never told me this before?’

‘There’s nothing much to tell,’ Kamna chuckled. ‘Just a kiss in the car after a particularly mushy movie. He didn’t take it forward though. Probably thinks we should get engaged before he does anything more! Come to think of it, “Purush” is not exactly a name I’d love to take. Sounds rather quaint, doesn’t it? And because of his silver hair, people may even assume I’m his daughter, not his wife.’

Annie realized this was true to some extent, but objected nevertheless. ‘He says early greying runs in his family. And haven’t you heard of hair colour? He’s only thirty-three. Just a year older than me. Are you calling me old?’

Kamna giggled. ‘It’s so easy to get a rise out of you, Annie!’ she said. ‘I was just kidding. But anyway, you’re forgetting the dog. That’s a definite deal-breaker.’

‘What dog?’ Annie was growing frazzled. They had to hurry or they wouldn’t get a piece of Jagdish’s birthday cake. It was probably gone already. The nurses would have packed away leftovers in tissues and stashed them in their handbags for their end-of-duty hunger pangs.

‘Haven’t you been listening?’ Kamna asked, her hazel eyes sparkling. ‘I’ve told you a zillion times that I want a dog. But first I need a husband to take it for walks! And Purush is allergic to dogs.’

‘He can take some meds, silly! And the dog can go with him to the beach for a run every morning.’

‘But Purush has a stupid fear of dogs! Some poodle nipped his ankle when he was a toddler. You should see how he behaves when he sees a stray dog on the beach.’

The phone in her hand buzzed. She showed Annie the message. ‘I think sometimes he can read my mind.’

If you ignore the calling bell tomorrow morning, I’ll come in and pour water on your head, it read.

‘Hmm…but how can he get in if you don’t open the door?’ asked Annie.

Kamna blushed. ‘Well…I made him an extra key. Simply as a back-up in case I lock myself out or get clobbered by a burglar. A woman living alone and all that… There are so many stories in the papers these days.’

‘Really? So you choose to give him your key and not me?’

‘Aw, shut up. I know you’d be too busy cuddling your husband and your little cupcake of a kid to answer my SOS.’

Annie soon left her to scrounge for cake while Kamna nobly refused the temptation, telling herself she would definitely go for a run tomorrow. And maybe, after the run, they could stop off at Saravana Bhavan and pig out on idli, vada and coffee. She was getting tired of her self-imposed diet anyway. Her face brightened up at the thought.

The last thing Kamna wanted to do when she opened her bleary eyes was to go for a run. Her hand reached for the snooze button. It was a Sunday after all and she should be allowed to sleep late after a busy week. Then good sense took over and she decided to get up. She groped her way to the bathroom, brushed her teeth vigorously and splashed cold water on her face. She pulled her hair into a scrunchy and got into her trackpants. She looked at the oversized Tweety Bird T-shirt she usually wore and then reached for the sexy little crop top next to it. It would be fun to see Purush’s reaction.

When the bell rang, she was trying to push her feet into her Nike running shoes whose laces she never bothered to untie. She opened the door with a chirpy ‘Good Morning’ and saw Purush do a double take. His eyes flew to the sliver of slender midriff that her top left uncovered. Kamna saw how brawny he looked, his muscled forearms displayed in a black T-shirt, his army trackpants hanging from lean hips. What’s sauce for the gander and all that, she thought.

‘Are you sure about wearing that? You know how guys stare,’ he finally ventured in a husky undertone. His voice was one of the things she loved about him. She also liked the way he was quick to figure out her moods and work around them. He even managed to cajole her into running just a little farther when she grew stubborn. ‘I’ll get you some coconut water when we finish,’ he’d promise. ‘It’s healthy, fat-free and packed with nutrients.’

‘Well, I’d rather have something that is unhealthy and packed with caffeine,’ she’d protest, then let him drag her to one of the roadside vendors who would slice off the top of a tender coconut and hand it to them with a straw.
‘Let them stare,’ Kamna said. ‘It’s time to give Uncleji a heart attack.’ She locked her front door and led the way to the elevator, putting an extra sway into her hips.

Uncleji, as she had named him, was a regular on the beach. He was the first person they saw when they got off from Purush’s car at the lighthouse on Santhome Beach. The man was like a whale, his stomach leading the way as he plodded towards them. As soon as he saw Kamna, his eyes threatened to pop out of their sockets. Auntiji glared at her, disapproving of her outfit.

Kamna reacted by scowling back and saying loudly to Purush, ‘Look how they are staring. Cretins!’

‘That’s childish, Kamna,’ he protested when they were past the couple. ‘Maybe you should try wearing something more…’

‘More what?’ she stopped in her tracks so that he ran a few steps forward and then backtracked. She was standing with her legs planted aggressively apart, her hands clenched into fists. ‘He stares at me whether I wear a salwar or a T-shirt or a top. Would you suggest I wear a burqa the next time?’

His face turned red and he muttered, ‘But these clothes make him think…’

‘…that it’s OK to ogle, touch, rape? If I’m at fault for wearing provocative clothes, then how do you explain the rape of kids and old women? Did they also provoke the attack in some way?’

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to blame you,’ he said, looking contrite, and Kamna decided to drop the matter. It was these differences in their thinking that made her pause whenever she considered taking their relationship to a deeper level. There were of course other, more trivial issues. She was a nightbird whereas Purush was a morning person. He would expect her to jog with him at 5 a.m. whereas she would prefer going to the gym in the evening.

But it was too early in the day to ponder such matters. Instead, Kamna focused on her running. She could almost hear her heart pumping stronger and feel the jam doughnut she had eaten last evening dissolve into nothingness.

She nodded to the lady she saw every day, whose gentle smile always reminded her of her own mother. Sita had been such a rare soul…so warm and nurturing. And then to die of cancer at an early age… She had had very few days left when Kamna returned to Mumbai from the US after completing her studies.

‘Why didn’t you tell me as soon as you were diagnosed?’ Kamna had wept. ‘And don’t say that my studies were more important. Nothing can be more important than you.’

Sita had died soon afterwards and Kamna had taken this job in Chennai in order to get away from her father, the owner of a big fertiliser company headquartered in Mumbai. The memories in their house had been too painful and she couldn’t forgive him for keeping the news of her mother’s illness from her. It had probably been his decision not to call her back to India and her mother had fallen in line as she always did. Kamna felt betrayed, and covered up her grief with a hard shell and an irreverent manner to keep people at a distance.

Purush gestured to her and veered off from the elevated walkway on to the inner beach road. She grinned as she saw the two stray dogs in their path. Didn’t he realize that they had no intention of snapping at him?

They reached the usual end point of their run at Napier Bridge, with its iconic concrete arches floating across the River Cooum. They returned the way they had come, got into the car and drove back to Kamna’s apartment in silence. When Purush stopped the car at the gate, she asked him if he would like to come upstairs for some green tea. ‘I’ve got the tea packet you gave me.’

The truth was that she had still not opened it, arguing with herself that she was living in a city famous for its filter coffee and it was her duty to drink the fragrant brew, not this pallid stuff promoted by health freaks.

Her luxury apartment was in Santhome, on the tenth floor of a beautiful building, just a stone’s throw away from the beach. She had fallen in love with the awesome view and the spacious, light-filled living room. Her father had protested when she had told him of her plans to put down roots in Chennai, but she had stood firm. She had earned the right to make decisions for herself, just as he had made the decision to keep her mother’s illness from her.

As she opened her door and they entered, Purush looked around admiringly. He had been here often with other friends, and lately on his own. The walls were painted a pleasing lilac. Light spilled in through the full-length French windows. An L-shaped white sofa ran along two sides of the drawing room. A lush aubergine carpet covered the floor. Kamna turned on the lights as she entered and then swore when they didn’t come on. She looked expectantly at Purush.

‘Let me see,’ he said, checking the switchboard. The lights came on after he fiddled around with the switches.

‘Thank you. You’re a sweetheart,’ she said and leaned forward to give him a hug.

He was startled for a moment and then sank into the embrace. She was warm and soft and curvy…and exasperating. He never knew whether she was going to cosy up or claw his eyes out. Like this morning when she had turned on him for suggesting that her top wasn’t suitable for a run. What was wrong with that? Her moodiness was one of the reasons he hadn’t proposed to her. Sometimes she also made critical remarks about oncologists, perhaps as a fallout of dealing with her mother’s cancer and death. He didn’t want to question her too closely about it and set her off.

Kamna snuggled deeper into his arms with a sigh. He slid instantly from logic to lust, filled with a yearning to kiss her. She had a great mouth. A dangerous mouth that did explosive things to his self-control. He could feel her soft breasts pressing into his chest. Her slim hips were too close for comfort. And the more he tried to restrain himself, the more his mind focused on her body.

Her hair smelled of the salty sea breeze, and desire swamped his intellect. Didn’t Kamna mean desire? Why was she still nestling against him and testing him? He shouldn’t have taken her up on her offer of tea. His thoughts shifted to worrying about how long it had been since he had given her the tea packet. What if it had gone mouldy by now? Kamna was dangerous in more ways than one. He should walk away now while a tiny cell or two of his brain still functioned.

Or maybe…just maybe…he should push this further and see where it led. Not that he was interested in a light-hearted fling. It was all or nothing for him. Never mind if his male friends called him a fool and worse. ‘If I had your looks and your white coat and all those doting women around me, I would never go to bed alone,’ they laughed.

But Purush didn’t want to sleep around. He wanted just one woman…this woman…in his arms. He would be her man and beat up anyone who stared at her. He would fix her appliances, water her plants and dote on her every single moment of the day.

He had to proceed cautiously though. What if the relationship didn’t work out? He would then be unable to work with her in the same hospital. He consulted with her on several of his patients who became depressed when diagnosed with cancer. It might be safer to just stay away from her except for work. Yes, he would do that. In future…

But now…now he would caress the soft skin exposed by the top that she was wearing. He would kiss her slender throat. Then he would nuzzle his way down to her breasts. His breath heated up as he lowered his head. It was time to move boldly forward.