“Anna!” Ramesh shouted out to one of his waiters, “take this order to the Apogee institute.”
Anna looked up from the table he was wiping, slapped the wet cloth over his shoulders and ran up to the manager’s seat.
“What am I taking?” he asked.
“It’s a Mysore masala dhosa and an onion uttapa. Go to the second floor and get this bill signed. And come back soon. There are many deliveries to be made,” Ramesh said.
“Will they give the money or…” Anna started to ask.
“No, they’ll probably add it to their account. Stupid people, can’t even pay regularly. So just get the bill signed, okay?” he explained.
“Theek hai,” Anna replied and picked up the plate which was kept on Ramesh’s counter.
“Arre, cover it with a newspaper first,” Ramesh reminded.
Feeling embarrassed, he grabbed a newspaper from the sheets hanging beside the counter and covered the dish carefully.
“What’s wrong Anna, aren’t you well? You look worried,” Ramesh asked him.
“Nothing, sir,” Anna replied. “My sister is getting married in a few months and I’m worried. There are a lot of things to take care of in the village. I may require a few weeks’ leave.”
“OK, we’ll discuss that later today. Go now, you’re getting late for the other deliveries,” Ramesh told him.
“Yes, sir,” he said and rushed outside.
Ramesh turned around to find someone to take the next delivery until Anna returned. Hardly had he left the counter when he heard a loud screech and the harsh scraping of metal on asphalt. Since the noise was so loud, he assumed that the accident had happened somewhere close to the restaurant. The road in front of the restaurant was notorious for such accidents. It being a college area, one could see teenagers showing off their fancy bikes and cars. Sometimes they went overboard in their stunts and crashed into something or the other. Just last week, a boy had crashed into the back of a rickshaw and toppled the unstable vehicle over. In the time the rickshaw driver managed to get out, the offending car and its occupant had already reached southwards to the next suburb. The rickshaw driver, bleeding from his head, tried to single-handedly turn his vehicle the right side but couldn’t manage. Ramesh had run out and had brought him in to his restaurant, made him sit on of his table and had attended to the driver’s wounds.
Even as Ramesh stepped out on the road, he saw that a crowd had already gathered around the fallen person. He could see a bike lying a few metres away from the crowd. The headlight had broken and there was glass everywhere. He looked further away to see a safety helmet just rolling to a halt. The safety helmet didn’t look too safe in the middle of the road. As soon as it rolled to a stop, a car would suddenly strike it again and it would get thrown to another part of the road. Ramesh, normally a hardcore fan of football, didn’t appreciate the irony of the game which was being played out there. He looked up towards the sky and mouthed, “If you’re trying to be funny, that isn’t definitely isn’t.”
The impatient honking of the cars caught his attention and he turned towards the people in the crowd who were pointing and mumbling among themselves. No one moved to help the victim whom Ramesh still could not see. He pushed his way through the crowd and was shocked when he saw Anna lying spread-eagled on the ground. He didn’t seem to be bleeding but he clearly was in pain. He ran to the fallen boy and asked him whether he could move. The pain was evident in Anna’s face as he tried to shake his head. His face was twisted into a painful grimace. Ramesh ran his hand over Anna’s hands and legs to see if there was any fracture. He glanced up at the faces in the crowd who were still looking down at the whole spectacle. Ramesh tried to control his frustration and asked them to help him lift up the boy and carry him into the restaurant. A few people came forward and took positions beside Anna. He had suffered a huge cut on his forearm which was bleeding rapidly.
“Ok, everyone together now, lift,” he said.
Just as they lifted Anna, one of his hands plopped down lifelessly and hung by the boy’s side at an unnatural angle.
The crowd was pointing anew at this new development, towards the bloody hand which was oscillating with very step Ramesh took towards his restaurant. Blood was dripping freely from Anna’s right hand, dripping on to the ground, dripping on to the trousers of the people who had gathered around him. The crowd suddenly decided that the whole affair was over and went back on their ways. The few people whose clothes the blood had dirtied, grumbled and swore silently. Ramesh and the men gently lay Anna on an empty table. Ramesh carefully put Anna’s hand by his side, and pressed his handkerchief against the cut. He told one of the waiters to run to the clinic nearby and call the doctor. He directed another to bring some water. He quickly checked for any other cuts, and felt relieved when he didn’t find any.
The doctor arrived and immediately set open his bag on the table. He fumbled with the antiseptic solution and told Ramesh to remove the handkerchief from the wound.
“I’ll take it up from here,” the doctor said.
Ramesh left the blood red handkerchief on the table and sat on his counter with a heavy sigh.
“What do you think doctor?” Ramesh asked, worried. “How bad is it?”
The doctor grunted while wrapping the bandages around Anna’s arm. He had already dabbed some soapy water on his arm and the bleeding had reduced. The twisted arm looked less bloody. “Well, it looks like that he has a fracture in his left hand. But he will survive. Won’t you?” the doctor asked, looking at Anna.
The boy could manage a weak smile.
“He was lucky that it was a two-wheeler,” the doctor continued. If a car had hit him at this speed, it could have been much worse. Speaking of that, where is the driver of the motorcycle? Was he hurt?” asked the doctor.
“I don’t know. I never saw him,” said Ramesh dismissively. One of the waiters replied for him, “No sir, he wasn’t hurt. I think he was just bleeding from his mouth.” The waiter had seen the driver stand up after some time. He had collected his helmet, climbed on his bike and had driven off.”
Ramesh ran his hands through his hair, and looked around. Everyone was looking at the table on which Anna was lying and watching the doctor work. Slowly, the customers resumed their lunches, some mumbling silent prayers for the boy while others shaking their heads at the carelessness of the waiter. “See how young the boy is. I hope he gets well soon.” “He should have looked on both sides before crossing the road. People run about on the road and the driver of the vehicles has to take the blame.”
Ramesh stared at the bowl of saunf kept on his counter. Just then the phone rang. Although he was in no mood to pick it up, he did. A clearly irritated voice spoke, “Arre Ramesh yaar, why haven’t you sent the dhosa yet? How long should we wait for it? Our lunch time is already over. Tell your boys to be fast, man. Those stupid guys stand at the paan shop all day and smoke. Put some sense in their heads, will you?” Ramesh listened quietly as the voice shouted profanities and reminded him to be strict with his employees. Without showing any sign of anger, Ramesh quietly kept the receiver back into its cradle and walked out of the restaurant. He glanced at Anna from the corner of his eye and stepped out on the pavement. He looked around at the road. People had resumed their work, vehicles were plying normally. Some one had carried the plate of the dhosa to one side of the road. He watched the people walk over it carefully. A few dogs caught its sight and sniffed at the strange mixture. They overturned the plate and started to devour the contents heaped on the road. Ramesh saw the bill floating in a puddle of water nearby. It was coloured with Anna’s blood. The water mixed with the blood and absorbed it until the redness dissolved completely. All signs of the accident had vanished.
Ramesh looked up across the street. He could see a big board advertising the institute. He read slowly “Apogee Institute”. Below it in bold letters - “Etiquette: You learn it here.”
