MAYA
At 6:49 in the morning, Maya was asleep on an open book.
The room was still dim, the pale morning light barely making its way through the curtains. The window was half open, letting in a cool Bangalore breeze that carried the distant sounds of traffic. The curtains swayed gently, brushing against the back of the wooden chair every few seconds.
Maya’s head rested on the book.
A pen was still caught between her fingers.
She had woken up to study.
She had fallen asleep instead.
“Maya!”
A voice came from outside her room.
“Maya! Aren’t you supposed to be at the hospital?”
The door opened before Maya could answer.
Chaya walked in and went straight toward her.
“Maya!”
She grabbed her shoulder and shook her.
Maya’s eyes opened.
She stared at Chaya for a few seconds, clearly unsure of where she was.
“What?”
“Wake up.”
“I’m awake.”
“You’re sleeping.”
“I’m thinking.”
“With your face on a book?”
Maya lifted her head.
The page had left a faint mark on her cheek.
She rubbed her face with both hands, trying to wake herself up. Her palms were dry and rough from months of constant handwashing and sanitizer.
“What time is it?”
“Six forty-nine.”
Maya looked at the clock.
Her eyes widened.
“Oh no.”
She pushed herself out of the chair so quickly that it scraped loudly against the floor.
“Dr. Avasthi will eat me alive if I’m late.”
“You said that yesterday.”
“And I was late yesterday.”
“You were eleven minutes late.”
“Exactly.”
Maya grabbed her towel and hurried toward the bathroom.
Behind her, Chaya shook her head.
“You’re going to kill yourself one day.”
Maya stopped at the bathroom door and looked back.
“Not today.”
She gave Chaya a tired smile.
“I have a shift.”
Then she disappeared inside.
Chaya looked at the open book.
She picked it up.
The same paragraph was underlined three times.
She smiled.
“Idiot.”
By 7:18, Maya was standing in the kitchen with a piece of bread between her teeth, trying to put on her shoes.
Her hair was still slightly damp.
She pulled one shoe on, nearly lost her balance, caught the edge of the table and looked at it as if the table had betrayed her.
Chaya watched from the kitchen counter.
“Careful.”
“I’m fine.”
“You almost fell.”
“I was testing gravity.”
“How did it perform?”
“Consistently.”
Chaya laughed.
Maya grabbed her white coat from the back of a chair and tucked it under her arm.
“Keys?”
“In your bag.”
“ID?”
“Your neck.”
Maya touched her chest.
Her hospital ID was already hanging there.
“Right.”
She picked up her bag and headed for the door.
“Maya.”
She turned.
“Your breakfast.”
Chaya pointed toward the remaining bread.
Maya looked at it.
Then at the clock.
Then back at the bread.
She grabbed it.
“Perfect.”
She shoved it into her mouth, opened the door and ran.
Bangalore traffic had already begun its daily war.
Cars crawled forward bumper to bumper. Motorcycles slipped through gaps that didn’t seem wide enough for them. Autos honked impatiently at buses, buses honked at cars, and somewhere in the distance a dog barked at absolutely nothing.
Maya sat in the back of an auto, her white coat folded over her lap.
She checked the time.
7:32.
She leaned forward.
“Anna, can we go a little faster?”
The driver glanced at her through the mirror.
“Traffic, madam.”
“I know.”
He smiled.
“Hospital?”
“Yes.”
“Doctor?”
“Intern.”
“Same.”
Maya smiled despite herself.
She leaned back and watched Bangalore pass by.
Shops opening.
People rushing to work.
A tea stall already crowded with customers.
The smell of petrol mixing with the smell of hot food from somewhere nearby.
She checked the time again.
7:38.
Her stomach growled.
She ignored it.
Sixteen minutes later, she reached the hospital.
For once, she wasn’t late.
The hospital smelled of disinfectant and stale coffee.
Maya hurried through the entrance, adjusting the strap of her bag as she walked.
The corridors were already busy.
Patients sat on benches with their relatives beside them. Nurses moved quickly between wards. A ward boy pushed a trolley past her, forcing her to step aside.
“Sorry.”
She hadn’t even been the one in his way.
She kept walking.
She reached her department just as Dr. Avasthi was called away to see a patient.
Maya stopped.
She looked at the clock.
Then toward the door.
Then back at the clock.
She quietly exhaled.
Lucky.
“Maya.”
She turned.
Akasha, another intern, was standing nearby.
“You are lucky today.”
Maya smiled.
“I know.”
“He’s already been called for an emergency.”
“Even better.”
Akasha laughed.
A few minutes later, Dr. Avasthi returned.
The conversation around the interns immediately died down.
He looked at them.
“All right. New arrivals first.”
Everyone straightened.
“Take their history. Examine them. Give me your preliminary diagnosis.”
He checked his watch.
“I’ll be back in a little while.”
“Yes, sir.”
The interns dispersed.
Maya picked up a file and walked toward one of the beds.
The patient was an elderly woman sitting upright, her hands folded tightly in her lap.
Her daughter sat beside her.
Maya pulled a stool closer.
“Good morning, ma’am.”
The woman looked at her uncertainly.
“Doctor?”
Maya smiled.
“Intern doctor.”
That seemed to make the woman more comfortable.
“I’m Maya. I’ll ask you a few questions before the doctor comes.”
She opened the file.
“What brought you here?”
The woman began explaining.
Maya listened.
She asked about the pain.
When it started.
Whether it had happened before.
What medications she took.
The daughter occasionally interrupted.
Maya never stopped her.
At one point, the woman struggled to remember the name of one of her medicines.
“White tablet,” she said.
Maya smiled.
“That’s okay. Do you remember what you take it for?”
“Blood pressure.”
“Okay.”
She wrote it down.
The woman looked at her.
“Will I be okay?”
Maya paused.
She could have given a reassuring answer.
Instead, she smiled gently.
“The doctor will examine you properly first. We’ll know more after that.”
The woman nodded.
Maya noticed that her hands were trembling.
She reached for the glass of water beside the bed and handed it to her.
“Have some water.”
The woman took it.
“Thank you.”
Maya smiled.
She turned back to the file.
She didn’t notice Dr. Avasthi returning.
Not until she heard a small cough behind her.
She looked up.
He stood a few feet away.
His eyes moved from the patient to Maya, then to his watch.
Maya glanced at the clock.
She had taken longer than she needed to.
She gave him a small apologetic nod.
Dr. Avasthi raised an eyebrow.
Maya turned back to the patient.
“Just one last question.”
The rest of the morning passed quickly.
Patients came.
Questions were asked.
Files were filled.
Reports arrived.
More reports were requested.
Maya moved from one bed to another.
At one point, she carried three files in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other.
Someone called her name.
She turned too quickly.
The coffee tipped.
A few drops landed on one of the files.
Maya froze.
She looked at the stain.
Then at the ceiling.
“Of course.”
Akasha, standing beside her, laughed.
“You’re hopeless.”
Maya took a tissue and carefully wiped the cover.
“It’s not that bad.”
“You say that every time.”
“Because it isn’t.”
She handed the file back.
“Here.”
Akasha shook her head, smiling.
By afternoon, Maya realized she hadn’t eaten.
She found the lunch she had packed in the morning at the bottom of her bag.
Cold.
She stared at it for a moment.
Then ate it anyway.
She sat on a bench near the ward, taking small bites while looking through a patient’s report.
Someone called her.
She closed the box.
“Coming.”
The lunch remained unfinished.
By evening, her feet hurt.
Her shoulders ached.
Her hair had escaped from the ponytail she had made that morning.
The hospital no longer smelled like anything in particular.
After enough hours, the smells had all become one.
She finished the last bit of paperwork and finally stepped outside.
The sky had turned dark.
The hospital lights reflected against the wet road outside.
She stood there for a moment.
Cars passed.
An ambulance siren faded somewhere behind the building.
Maya took a deep breath.
Then checked her phone.
Three messages from Chaya.
Where are you?
Alive?
Should I order food?
Maya smiled.
She typed:
Alive.
A second message came immediately.
Food yes.
She put the phone away.
By the time Maya opened the apartment door, she had forgotten that she was still wearing her shoes.
She took two steps inside.
Then stopped.
Looked down.
“Right.”
She kicked them off.
Her bag fell onto the floor.
She dropped onto the sofa.
Her entire body seemed to sink into it.
A few seconds later, a cup appeared in front of her.
Maya opened one eye.
Chaya stood there.
“Coffee.”
Maya took it.
The warmth spread through her hands.
She took a sip.
Her eyes closed.
“You’re my favourite person.”
“I know.”
Chaya sat beside her.
“So...”
Maya opened one eye.
“What?”
“What did Kudoos Avasthi say today?”
Maya groaned.
“Leave it.”
“You got scolded?”
“Not exactly.”
“You took too long with a patient.”
Maya looked at her.
“How do you know?”
“Because you always take too long.”
Maya took another sip.
“He’ll survive.”
Chaya laughed.
“Tell me your corporate gossip.”
That was enough to change the subject.
For the next half hour, they talked about people neither of them knew.
Chaya complained about her manager.
Maya complained about one of the residents.
Chaya told her about an argument between two people in her office.
Maya told her about a patient’s relative who had spent twenty minutes arguing with a nurse about hospital food.
Neither story mattered.
That was why they were good stories.
Dinner followed.
Nothing special.
Just something warm.
Something they could eat without thinking.
Eventually, Maya stood up.
“I’m going to study.”
Chaya looked at her.
“You said that this morning.”
“This time I mean it.”
“You also said that this morning.”
Maya smiled.
“Good night, Chaya.”
“It’s eight-thirty.”
“I know.”
Her room was quiet.
The curtains moved slightly in the night breeze.
Maya changed, washed her face and sat at her desk.
Her NEET-PG book was still open to the same page.
She stared at it.
Then reached for the small diary beside it instead.
She opened it to today’s date.
She wrote:
One more tiring day at the hospital.
She paused.
Then added:
Nothing new.
Another pause.
Dr. Avasthi was bearable today.
She looked at the sentence.
Then added:
Maybe I’m getting used to him.
Maya closed the diary.
She placed it beside the book.
The book remained unopened.
She turned off the light.
Outside, Bangalore continued making noise.
Inside, Maya was asleep before her head properly touched the pillow.
