By Sauro Dasgupta
Vikram was born to poor parents in a slum at Patipukur in Kolkata. His father was a day labourer and his mother was a domestic worker. A few days after his birth, his parents, Ashok and Namita Agarwal visited the local astrologer, Hariram Maharaj, who blessed their son and told his parents, “Your son is going to be a great man one day. Please do not allow his academics to be disrupted owing to your grim financial state.”
The Maharaj gave Namita an amulet and instructed her to tie it on Vikram’s wrist that day itself.
Vikram proved to be a bright student in school. He studied at the local municipal school till the third standard, after which he was required to shift to another school. His path was beset with difficulties. His grandfather passed away, his father fell ill and his mother was unable to sustain the family on her own. On his part, Vikram often refused to have his meals, often persuading his parents to have their meals.
One day, when Vikram’s father was suffering from acute respiratory distress, his mother gave him Rs 200 to purchase medicines from the local pharmaceutical shop. However, the moment he turned up at the shop, the shopkeeper glared at him and they began to talk to each other.
“What do you want?”
Vikram handed over the doctor’s prescription to the shopkeeper and said, “I want the medicines listed in this prescription.”
On reading the prescription, the shopkeeper said, “I have all these medicines with me. Pay me Rs 500 and I will sell the medicines to you.”
Vikram’s face became expressionless. He stared at the shopkeeper as if he had been struck by a thunderbolt. His mind raced as he thought, “From where will I procure the remaining Rs 300? Even if my body is chopped into a hundred pieces, I cannot pay even a single penny at this juncture!”
Staring at Vikram, the shopkeeper growled, “If you cannot pay Rs 500, I cannot sell the medicines to you!”
Unable to suppress a sob, Vikram broke down before the shopkeeper. Seeing a group of people coming, the shopkeeper took Vikram inside, wiped off his tears and gave him a glass of water to drink. When Vikram recovered, the shopkeeper sat in front of him and a lively conversation started. “Boy, what is your name?”
“My name is Vikram Agarwal.”
“For whom do you want these medicines?” “My father is suffering from acute respiratory distress and is in a moribund state. This medicine is the only hope for him. Please help us!”
“Calm down, Vikram. What does your father do?” “He is a poor day labourer.”
“And your mother?” “A maidservant.”
“Don’t worry, Vikram. You will be given these medicines for free. What I want you to do is to take me to your house where I can meet your parents and hand in the medicines to them.”
“Thank you! I promise to help you in a benevolent manner when you are in need in future!”
They walked together, conversing lively. On entering Vikram’s slum, the shopkeeper gave the packet of medicines to Vikram’s mother and said, “Madam, my name is Tarun Sen. If you are in need of anything, please contact me. I have given my card to Vikram.”
“Sir, if you help Vikram to get admission in a good English medium school, we will be eternally grateful to you.”
“Madam, in that case, I suggest you to admit in Swami Dayanand Saraswati Memorial School. The fee structure of the school is quite low and should he score well, he will be given scholarship.”
“Thank you Sir!”
“You are welcome, Madam!”
Vikram was admitted in Swami Dayanand Saraswati Memorial School and gradually began scoring very well in his subjects. He was an excellent debater and a good sportsman as well. He was soon awarded an academic scholarship of Rs 10,000per month. Besides, he was provided with a monthly financial assistance of Rs 2,000 for his family’s sustenance.
Vikram scored 96 per cent in the Science Stream in Class X and 98 per cent in Class XII, becoming the All-India ISC topper. He was offered a scholarship by Harvard Medical School, from where he graduated with an MBBS degree and finally graduated with an MD and a PhD in Oncology from Trinity College, University of Cambridge with Gates Cambridge Scholarship.
He joined the Department of Cardiology at Fortis Hospital, Kolkata and became a part-time Oncologist at Columbia Asia Hospital in the city.
One day, when Vikram was working on a new book, he received a call from his junior at Columbia Asia Hospital, Dr Lewis Joseph. “Hello, Dr Joseph! What is the matter?”
“Sir, a patient named Mr Tarun Sen has been admitted today. He had such a severe blockage in his heart that we shifted him to the ICU. He is recalling you from time to time and is in a state wherein your presence is urgently required.”
“Be right there! I am coming!”
Vikram got into his car and drove straight to Columbia Asia Hospital. Seeing him enter, Dr Joseph and Dr Akram Hussain rushed to him and took him to Mr Sen’s bed, where he saw his son, Anil sobbing. Seeing Vikram, Anil wiped his tears and said, “Dr. Agarwal, can we have a word aside?”
Vikram replied, “Sure, Mr. Sen! Let’s sit in my chamber!”
When Dr Joseph intervened and told Vikram that it was necessary for him to arrive in the ICU, where he would examine the patient, he motioned him to leave and said that he would be there in a few minutes.
Now that Vikram and Anil were in the former’s chamber, Anil said, “Doctor, my father has told me everything about the connections between your family and him. I will be obliged to you if you somehow convince the hospital to waive, or at least reduce this hefty bill of Rs 10 lakh. I am severely indebted to several persons and cannot pay such a large sum. Your intervention will not only save his life, but will also ensure a reduction in the bill. You are our sole hope at this hour, Doctor.”
Gripping Anil’s hand, Vikram said, “Anil, you do not have to pay a farthing for your father’s treatment. Here’s my card, you can contact me whenever required.”
Vikram, along with Dr Rajendra Mishra, carried out a delicate operation on Tarun and he was put under absolute rest for a fortnight. On the sixteenth day, when Tarun opened his eyes, he was surprised to see Vikram in front of him.
Vikram smiled and said, “How are you, Mr Sen? Do you remember me?”
Tarun replied, “I remember you, Dr Agarwal. Thank you for saving me!”
Vikram comforted Tarun and said, “Mr Sen, when you could save my father’s life and even I promised to help you one day, can’t I do such a small task for you? After all, you enabled my father to survive and your help cannot be forgotten by me.”
Tarun embraced Vikram. Vikram felt that when fate had been unkind to one of them, one had helped the other, only to be helped by the same person years later. It was exactly as he called it, ‘A twist of Fate’.
(The author is a student of the Department of International Relations, Jadavpur University, Kolkata)