The Path Of My Career

Even before Mr. Gautam showed up at the Happy Elephant Nursery School, he sent a servant to confirm his appointment for his granddaughter's admission. That afternoon at one o'clock sharp, Mr. Gautam came to the Principal's office, along with his daughter-in-law and two-small-children, a four year old little girl, the prospective student, and her two-year-old brother.

I was on break from my college and had secured a Summer job as the Principal's assistant. It was 1971, 50 years ago today, a lifetime away, which influenced me and directed the path of my career. As the Principal's assistant, I looked over the accounting, made sure the teacher's schedule and everything else was running smoothly. Several times during the day, the Principal would ask, “Amit, is everything OK?”. “Yes, everything is fine!”. How did she ever function without me, I wondered.

Mr. Gautam was a prominent, well-respected, Bengali businessman. This meant that he came from the State of Bengal in the East and now had settled in the North. He and his wife had only one child, a son. They were devoted to him. He had been a brilliant, gifted child. From early on, both parents knew, their son was special. Mrs. Gautam cooked his food herself, not relying on the housekeeper, she made sweet delicacies for him, especially his favorite, chum chums.

As the boy grew older, Mr. Gautam found the best tutors for extra lessons after the boy came home from the private school. Thus, time went by, and the son grew up to qualify for entry into medical school. The Gautams were very proud of him. About six months after their son started medical school, Mr. Gautam received a phone call, “Please come and pick up your son.”

The Gautams went running to the University. The University President, along with two doctors, gave them the news, “The finest doctors at the medical school have diagnosed your son with a psychotic breakdown, he is Schizophrenic.” Mrs. Gautam began to cry, Mr. Gautam began to yell, “Impossible!”. Sadly, it was true. They brought their fragile son home. Mrs. Gautam made chum chums through her tears. Mr. Gautam took the son for any treatments he could find. His condition was serious and difficult to manage, none of the medicines available at the time completely controlled his symptoms. Finally, someone in the family suggested that maybe a wife could make all the difference. Yes, thought Mr. Gautam, a marriage would let everyone know that his only, prized son was normal.

As usual, a call went out for an arranged marriage in the Bengali Brahmin community. The son's wealth and future inheritance of the family business were the key attributes. Nevertheless, word had also spread that something was amiss. No one was agreeable for marriage, except for one, a very poor father with no dowry for his eldest daughter, already eighteen was willing. His wife had died, leaving him with three daughters and a son; what else could he do. With a heavy heart, he gave his daughter in kanyadan at the ceremony. All he asked for was that his daughter is treated well by the in-laws. Mr. Gautam promised.

The groom had been coaxed to dress up for the wedding. He sat and cried on the mandap platform, under the wedding canopy. While the musical shehnai was still playing, he got up and ran and hid in the bedroom. A marriage would not be the answer either.

I entered the office and was introduced to the family. I folded my palms and said, “Namaskar”, to Mr. Gautam. The daughter-in-law, Karuna, sat on a chair next to him, holding the two-year-old son in her lap, while four-year-old Charo stood close to her knee. Karuna, wearing a pale tan saree with a blue border appeared like a gentle waterlily, golden honey skin, large brown almond eyes, hands delicately holding on to the little boy. A black and gold bead mangalsutra necklace hung around her slender neck. Just at the moment that Karuna raised her head covered with the border of her saree and looked up at me with her beautiful eyes, I was smitten.

Over the rest of the Summer, I found every opportunity I could to get a glance at Karuna. I even volunteered to take Charo home just so I could see my secret love. We never spoke with each other. Soon the Summer ended, and I returned to college eventually becoming a doctor, a Psychiatrist.