Eh, Yeah..I am as Young as 18!

There was I , standing in  a queue to visit the doctor. The summer heat has got on me and I suffered a cold and running a high temperature. Interestingly in summer due to heat I got cold. May be some “EM BI BI ES” can answer that. (that was a pathetic joke).Next to me was my aunt, more worried than me. I had the record of not visiting a doctor for nearly 3 years and I had to break it that day .Reason, my aunt. I can't blame her either, she is so caring.  

It was “Lake Side Hospital”, Ulsoor, Bengaluru. The scene was quite new to me ,being a son to a father who works in a manufacturing industry provided me with a lifestyle which is bound to a township with security guards at the entrance frisking outsiders and where everything is available within a walkable distance, be it from recreational club to the hospital or the general stores. The Medical Centre in the township is a bit more organized and importantly, the family of the employees get the treatment at a subsidized cost, that too  deducted from the employee’s salary.  As far as I remember , I haven’t waited in a queue to attend a doctor nor have I paid him for consultation from the pocket. 

Standing in a queue holding the token number “61” with a caption under it that reads as “Every human being is the author of his own health or disease”. Next to me was this little boy on a red T-shirt with his mother. He should probably be around 8-9 years of age. A typical boy whose eyes looked scared of hospital, injections and doctor. I tried to start a conversation with him, by asking his name. He felt shy and leaned on his mother’s shoulders hiding his face. I did not give up, I held his arm and asked for his name again. ‘Aryan’, he said in a feeble voice and stood up and left to see the doctor. A series of incidents that flashed my mind that instant, when I used to be a little boy I used to cry , roll down the floor to make my parents not to take me to the hospital.My mother used to intimidate me , beg me and trick me to make me swallow the more bitter than bitter gourd tablets.I had , eh still have, the fear of blood, hospital smell and the medicines. I just don’t show them on my face now.

Then came Aryan with a big smile.Reason, the doctor had prescribed him just tonics , no tablets and no injections. The scare in his eyes was off, but still he felt shy to look at me.

“Say bye to Uncle, Aryan” said his mother. 

I was taken aback, me ?..Uncle..?! WTF!..Now I regret for not being regular to my gym sessions. I was crying inside, “I don’t deserve this”. I was clouded with thoughts that made my head go round and round. “Do I look that old?”, “Have I reached that stage to be categorized as Uncle”,”May be I should accept it”, “No, I don’t want to look old”, “God, I swear I will hit the gym regularly, keep me young, I will do whatever it takes.”, I took an oath  “When I am 36, I should feel as young , more importantly appear as young in the lines of Sachin Tendulkar, John Abr aham” , “Should I go in search of beauty creams that claims to keep the skin young?, No I would rather go the natural way”. I remembered a friend of mine when he had tied the nuptial knot I started mocking him as “Uncle” on the photos he had posted in Facebook.( I consider married men , Uncle :P.) I can now realize how he would have felt bad inside for being chided as on oldie.(I can see him laughing reading the post). I had to bear the  what-you-sow-is-what-you-reap effect.

“Arvind! Arvind!” shouted the hospital warden.He had a very base tone, a voice that doesn’t require a mic to address a gathering in a town hall. "You're next",he said. I was sweating badly already and  I started feeling cold. I was not yet out of the rude shock that had left me gasping for breath.

As I entered the room, I was subjected to the sweetest compliment ever. The doctor was a lady and her very first question was not, “What is your problem dear?” , instead it was “What is your age?” My initial reaction was “Eh! not again, enough for today, one embarrassment a day , keeps my mood away”. Hesi tantly I replied, “2*”.  “Ok, I thought you were less than 18 and I was about to redirect you to the Pediatrics , as I treat only adults”  said the doctor. A little more confusion cropped up , “Is she mocking me?”. But her facial expressions , read that she had actually meant what she said.

BANG! I was pepped up, motivated and jumping inside, upside down. My aunt, next to me was on the floor literally , laughing at me. Just that my aunt knows me and my age personally , she found it difficult to convince herself that I looked like an 18 and found it as a joke to digest the truth. The doctor held my hand to check my pulse, it was already thumping at god speed. My temperature had fallen drastically , I felt so chilled like a fresh vegetable out of the refrigerator.She still treated me like a teenager and prescribed medicines leaving out the injections.

 

Growing old physically is a fact that is inevitable. It is hard for one’s ego to accept it when others recognize it before you actually realize it. Moreover , not only beauty that lies on the eyes of the beholder , but also being/looking young as well.

So, I pity the boy’s mother for her poor vision on which I appeared older than what I am :P.