This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Sai Joshi, Virat would often think, is different from all, is exceptional. And that is why he fell in love with her. Many attributes made Sai special, but the most important one was that she was vested in each person's wellbeing, no matter her relationship with that person: a casual acquaintance, a friend, a not-so-friend, or even a stranger. If she saw someone in trouble or wronged, she had to do something about it. If not fix it, at least get to the bottom of it. Sometimes some wrongs can never be righted, but when has that stopped Sai. So, when Ramakant returned to the hospital, this time without his son, how could she not take the bull by its horn?
Sai had just signed off her shift and was about to head to the café when she bumped into Ramakant. "Dr. Tai, I was looking for you."
Sai always made time for friends. "Arre dada, how is Gaurav? Where is that shaitan?"
Ramakant broke down. Sai had to use all her strength to keep the man standing. "Dada, kai zhala? Is Gaurav all right?"
"My Gaurav, my little boy, he is no more."
Sai couldn't comprehend; there had to be some mistake here. "What do you mean?"
"Tai, my boy—I just finished all the last rites—a father cremating his son!"
Both of them just crashed down to the floor. Ramakant cried for a good five minutes. Sai did not know how to console him. She knew precisely what Ramakant was going through. She had, not so long ago, cremated her entire world, too. Sai had often wondered if she had truly forgiven IPS Virat Chavan. Sai's Abba had taken a bullet shot by Jagtap Mane, meant for Virat Chavan. 'No, no... it was Jagtap not Virat Sir. Blaming Virat Sir is disrespecting Abba's sacrifice. It is Jagtap who killed Abba. I hope that leech is rotting in jail.'
Ramakant collected himself and put together a broken sentence. "Tai... this is so unfair... My boy's life was snatched mercilessly by this hospital."
"What do you mean?"
"He was operated here na? And what I have recently learned, it was just tonsilitis, a very common surgery, so how Tai, how?"
"Ho Dada, but sometimes, in very rare cases, a surgery--big or small-- may lead to infection. Did you not take him to the hospital?"
"Yes, I did. But he was already dead. My angel died in his sleep--one morning he decided to never wake up again."
"How was he the previous day?"
"Tai, when I took him home from here he was fine, but he started sleeping for longer and longer periods. When awake he could barely speak. I thought it is because of the operation. I thought it would take a few more days for him to recover so we just let him rest."
Sai too, found it odd. As far as she remembered, it was just a tonsillectomy. Pari, Sai's little best friend from Gadchirolli, had had a similar surgery, and she had been up and running, full of beans within two days. Something didn't seem right.
"What did the doctor say? Did they not order a post mortem?"
"Nahi Tai. Since my boy had already gone, the doctor said he couldn't tell why. He also told me it could be an internal infection. It happens in rare cases he said. I asked for post mortem, but then he asked me why I want to upset my son. He has died a peaceful death; let it remain that way."
"Interesting... if I am not mistaken by law he should have offered to do an autopsy."
"No, he did not. He convinced me to not ask for it as well, and I, like a fool, got convinced and signed some paper that apparently said that I did not want a post mortem.
"Tai, I wouldn't have come to you if I had not heard of another similar death."
"What do you mean?"
"I had a small tervi ceremony for my boy. We got talking about how we don't know what caused this catastrophe. It was then a friend from a neighboring village told me that something similar happened in his village as well—it was last year. Then, it was a little girl, a year our two older than Gaurav. She too had had some kind of an operation and then few days later she was rushed to the hospital and died within few hours of getting there."
"And I am guessing no post mortem?!"
"Yes, yes Tai."
"What about the doctor? Was it the same one?"
"Yes, there is only one doctor for my village and some neighboring ones."
"What is this doctor's name?"
"Mane, Dr. Damodar Mane. Ho, ani he is Vithal Mane Saheb's nephew."
Sai could not believe her ears. "Did you say Vithal Mane?"
"Ho, ho, he is a big politician... I am sure must have heard his name?"
Vithal Mane! Sai was convinced something was seriously wrong here. Anything to do with Vithal Mane had to be criminal. Now all she needed was to get to the bottom of this and collect enough proof that even Vithal would end up in jail this time. So how could she not take this dastardly bull by its horn? Not just for little Gaurav but also for Abba. The Manes had to be destroyed.
