ABSTRACT
Kamola was ready to go to the hospital. Usually it took her about twenty minutes to get there. For some reason it took her longer that day. Or at least it seemed longer. Once inside the building she went straight to the kitchen. The very first thing she did was put the saucepan on the stove and pour milk into it. Voices from the next room came to her. She knew before long three of them would saunter into the kitchen in search of their first cup of strong, milky tea. They were all doctors, two males and one female. Kamola could not make out the names of the male doctors. Neither of them spoke the language of Palampur, which was Bengali. They were white people. Kamola could not understand a single thing they said. They took their tea without any sugar. The lady was 90young and quite attractive. She had the same skin tone as Kamola’s. She could speak with her foreigner colleagues in their language. At the same time she was perfectly capable of communicating with the patients and other employees of the hospital in their native language. She was always busy checking on the patients, listening to their discomfort, instructing the nurses or reading big books in her own office. She worked hard. Some days she would forget to come to the kitchen to get her lunch. But if she had time she laughed, cracked jokes with her colleagues. One day Samir came looking for Kamola. The lady doctor was there in the kitchen at that time. She teased Kamola about him. All the patients loved her charming personality. Kamola made up her mind. She would talk to her.
