Page 27 - Till the Last Breath . . .

‘I have always wanted to be a doctor. Ever since the time I was a little

kid. At first, I thought I liked the candy my paediatrician gave me! But
slowly, it became an obsession. I used to fake illnesses as a kid so I could
go to the clinic and hear the doctor talk about various medicines and cures.

It’s everything I have ever wanted to do. Haven’t you?’ Pihu purred and
batted her eyelashes shyly.

‘I have always wanted a career. And being a doctor was one,’ Venugopal
responded. ‘But you’re awesome. You will be a great doctor.’

‘Thanks.’ Pihu blushed. ‘So will you.’
‘I hope so. But why didn’t you tell me before? You could have taught me.

I am struggling here.’
‘I can still teach you,’ she said.
Venugopal pushed the book towards her, rested his chin on his knuckles

and commanded, ‘Teach.’
‘I didn’t want you to think I was a freak,’ Pihu said softly.

‘I don’t need to tell you that.’ Venugopal laughed.
Pihu always thought of Venugopal as a sweet, well-mannered guy. He

was from Chennai, Tamil Nadu, and barely spoke any Hindi. Pihu had spent
the first few weeks forcing him to talk in Hindi and laughing her head off.

Somewhere between the lectures on human lungs and lymph nodes, Pihu
knew she had found a friend for life. She loved the way he cursed the Delhi
food, complained about the egregious hostel canteen’s sambar and how he

pronounced ‘mall’ as ‘maal’. Their bond strengthened over countless meals
of butter chicken and shitty sambar, and arguments about which tasted

better.

Pihu stared at the books again wondering what had gone wrong. Fear
clouded her mind. A million possibilities battled each other and she cried.

She had read about ‘hypochondriasis of medical students’, a condition in
which medical students diagnose themselves with diseases they don’t have.

It stems from the paranoia one suffers from after obsessing over different
symptoms throughout the day. But she knew for a fact that she wasn’t

imagining things.