The Visit

He brings the paper closer. The letters all in Malayalam, the cuves do a pirouette while the rest undulate laterally and sidewind. "Arre babu, why you doing all this nakra? Adjust your specs no" says the patient from Bengal sitting next to him. "Ah ah" he replies, nodding his head side to side, while changing his position thinking to himself, 'what a nosy bugger this fellow is'.

'Mr. Jayaram Kutty, kindly come to room numbe 19. Mr. Jayaram Kutty, room number 19' the speaker blares. Folding his paper neatly along the creases, he nestles it under his armpit. Slowly positioning his rickety arms on the metal bars he raises himself up. Then almost as if programmed, makes his way to the consultation room, one step at a time. '

"Arre babu, you dropped this''. He turns and finds the man who had commented on his paper reading vaastu handing him his spectacle case. Smiling a toothless gin, he accepts it and makes his way to the dim lit room where to his right an array of lenses, neatly arranged in power order glaze in the lacquered wooden boxes they are placed in.

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