After lamenting to my mom about the injection story and dad’s back-tracking on his “promise”, my parents had to endure the very difficult process of feeding me my dinner!
I was a fussy kid, born of fussy parents (my mom had two previous miscarriages), and come fever, it was mine pleasure to be my fussiest self! I would insist that my mom ootivittufy me. (Thrust mouthfuls of rasam-rice in my mouth).
As she was feeding me, I took immense sadistic pleasure in irritating my brother, saying that while he had to feed himself, I had the luxury of mom doing me the honours. At this, he would also put up a tantrum with my mom saying, “amma, enakkum ootti vidu, illeyna naanum saapida maataen”(Mom, feed me also or else I won't eat). My mom replies, “annanukku dhaan fever, unakkuma fever? (your bro has fever, do you also have fever?)
"Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah"….One resounding yell from him and her options are limited. She doesn’t want to embark on a lecture with him, as her hands are full, literally. Lets get done with the thing, she thinks to herself. Ok, now she feeds both of us. Some rice manages to get into my mouth and most of it gets floored. By the time we finish our dinner the floor is more fed than we, the area bearing a slight semblance to the great Kurukshetra war in the Mahabharatha!
They wait for half an hour to then get to the harrowing experience of making me stomach the cough syrup and capsules that the doc prescribed. Any minute earlier than that would lead me to barf whatever little the mashed rasam-rice managed to go down my food pipe.
It is very carefully attempted, one at a time with considerable amount of time-gap between the two “procedures”. The easier one gets the first preference. That is how we all like to go, right? Yes. Five ml of the cough mixture is poured into a snifter sort of medicine-glass and given in my hands, which trembled like an alcohol-depraved alcoholic. Nevertheless I clutch it with both my hands and cautiously bring the potion to my lips.
“Uvaaaaaak”, I gag at the smell of the liquid, while my parents eye me with great anxiety. I manage to drain the liquid as quickly as I can, the transit time in my tongue being just a few nanoseconds. Sheeesh, one act completed but I still have that awry, contorted face on me and I demand tons of sugar to counteract the bitter aftermath in my mouth.
Just when I have eaten enough of sugar my mom scares me by saying, “naalaikku unnai nalla poochi kadikka pogudhu” (tomorrow you are going to have the anal itching coz of worms!). Shit, not those worms please…"God help me, pleeeeeease, I promise to be a nice boy!", I mumble a prayer to myself. The pruritus caused by the worm Enterobius vermicularis can be damn bloody irksome!
I keep cursing the doc for sentencing me through all this ordeal. My parents are fervently hoping that the mixture doesn’t come out as instantaneously it went in.
Now we are waiting for 10 mins to elapse before the capsule gets its treatment. I verify with my mom during that interval of time, if I am allowed to bunk school the next day. Coz much before this episode I have asked them to guarantee me leave the next day. My mom confirms it is going to be an off day for me if I can swallow the tablet too. Geez! no respite from the capsule!
My dad touches my forehead, cheeks and the front of the neck with the dorsum of his hand to check if the fever has subsided. “Fever vittudhuthu”, he tells my mom. (The fever has subsided). I get shit-scared. Does this mean they might pack me off to school the next morning? Anyway, I hope for the best!
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