My brother owns a property in the middle of nowhere. It is basically a rice field with a small portion of it raised, where other stuff is planted. Coconut trees, some vegetables and often, tapioca. These are places where land value is relatively cheaper in my state because it is hard to get to these places. He also owns a plot of rice field in another area.
He doesn’t have experience in farming. So, he has someone to advice him. This is Krishnan Chettan. K is a friend of my dad too. They are all communists. My brother and K are commis, my dad always voted the commis. I like K not because he is a communist. K has a good sense of humor and it is fun talking to him.
K is a small man, with a calm dreamy look about him. He usually has his shirt pocket filled with something or the other. He can talk with the seriousness of a man in his late 60s when he is talking to his peers. Or he can chat with all the eagerness of a child when he talks to a child. He can do both in the same breath. He says he is diabetic but likes a toddy occasionally. He likes to refer to my bro as Muthalali and refers to himself as Thozhilali as if we are all still in the feudal age. (Those terms refers to the Capitalist and the Proletariat roughly, respectively).
One day while working in the field, K got bitten by a snake. He was working and supervising others. He claims it was only a common water snake and not poisonous. But he comes anyway with my dad to the nearest clinic. There they dress the wound and advise K to go to the main hospital. K nods his assent but once outside the clinic, he says he is not going anywhere. That he doesn’t need to go to the main hospital and be put under 24 hours observation because he is sure the snake was not poisonous. So my dad and K come to our house. They still debate whether to go or not. We advise K that he go and get it looked by the other hospital. K still doesn’t want to go but he looks tired. This could be because of the work and may be he is a bit worried because of everyone nagging him about the hospital. So I decide to take him to the hospital anyway. And off we start on my bike. On the way, I keep talking to him to make sure he is still conscious. We joke about things and make time.
I hear an ssssss sound behind me. I have heard that people that got rabies from mad dogs could make sounds like that of a dog. Could a man bitten by a snake make a sound like the hissing of a snake? I know this is absurd. And I know there can’t be any snakes behind me on a bike going well on the main road. I hear this hissing sound again near my ear. A chill goes down my spine and I ask him sharply not to scare people. He says he is not hissing like a snake to impress me. It is just that the pepper he is chewing is rather too hot to ignore. He should have known better before chewing them, I say. He explains that this is a test to see if the snake was poisonous. If he can still feel the burning in his mouth because of the pepper, he should be okay. Or so goes his theory.
We get to the hospital. He keep reminding me that he doesn’t want to stay in there for a day. Now that we have come this far, I don’t mind him getting stuck in there for a day if needed. We go to the emergency and he is put on a nice reclining chair. There is a huge crowd. Some doctor comes to take his initial checks. No table near by to keep her pressure gauge and she ask me to hold it at level. I am more at ease now, as we are in a hospital and K seems to be doing well so far. I take the gauge, bend in style and hold it with both my hands, like a statue. The doctor keeps a straight face, take K’s readings. K keeps trying to make conversation with the doc politely, saying it’s all good now and could he go home today, please? I now hiss at him “Shhhhhh!” K being the invalid here, doc and me ignore his pleadings. Doc takes her readings and tells me that another doc will soon come to take his blood. K squirms. I like the set up and grin at K. He looks sullen and tries to tell me that we need to talk to the docs and get the checks done and be out soon. I say I have already called for my reliever, if that is any comfort for him.
Other doc comes, take K’s blood and goes to test it. So we wait. I try to brighten him up with jokes when I am not taking in the scenery of beautiful lady doctors and nurses going about their duties. First doc comes back again and tells me that I need to see yet another doc. I see him, and is told that K will have to stay for 24 hours observation. I go to get the paperwork done and by this time, my bro comes. I hand over the case to him, goes to K to tell him the good news that I am going home to have my lunch and the bad news that, his lunch/dinner and next day’s meals he will be enjoying in the hospital. I shoot off when K start reasoning with my bro.
I get home, take a shower and get my lunch. I then call my bro to ask what happened. He says K got discharged already. It’s not very surprising but the details are vague as to how he got away from there. And he reports for duty next morning as if nothing happened.
