GOOD FOR NOTHING-15

             That was an unusual quiet day in terms of workload.

I was on night duty with ‘my’ staff busy in their respective duties. I had a rather unwritten agreement with the hospital management to provide me with my chosen set of nurses, ward boys and other paramedics during my night duties to minimize patient complaints. It is always better to work with the sub-ordinates who are aligned in a favourable wavelength that matches your expectations and temperament. Then lots of orders and instructions get carried out without even uttering a word.

             Somewhere around the midnight, a heard a faint rap on the door and got up to open the door of my retiring room. It was unusual of me to get into the retiring room such early but probably I had a hectic day before the night duty.

“yeah…what happened Suman, is everything alright?”. It was Suman on the door-my favorite staff nurse.

“Ma’am please come to Room no 15”

“Why?...anything serious?”…I enquired as I turned to put my white apron on.

“No…nothing serious as such  ...but please come and see for yourself.”

               As I took the lift, I tried to reminisce the face of the pt of room no 15, his treatment orders vital signs and the condition when I had last seen him roughly an hour before. Mr Uppal, the occupant of Room No 15, was suffering with end stage renal disease (Kidney failure) and needed regular dialysis. He was a wealthy person who always opted for the most expensive room of our hospital and always settled the hospital bill without any fuss. These kind of patients are considered ‘pampered baby’ of the management are often prove to be headache for the junior staff for their unending tantrums. But Mr Uppal was poles apart from this category with his ‘win-all’ attitude and friendly mannerisms.

                    No serious deterioration I must have expected for the night for him or otherwise I would have put him on ‘alert list’ in my mind before retiring. “Then what happened?”, I muttered to no one in particular as the door of the lift opened and I loped towards Room No 15 expecting something bizarre.

            Mr Uppal was surrounded with three men and they were all busy discussing something serious with their fingers pointing on numerous colorful glossy sheets of papers  sprawled all over the white bed sheet. Mr Uppal was visibly upset over something.

         “Oh…Dr Namrata…sorry…sorry….none of their fault actually”, he tried to defend the persons around him. “Mera dil nahin lag raha tha….their is lots of workload and pending things to do which these able persons can’t do without me at office.” But I was drifting elsewhere, my attention focused on the glossy sheets.

“These are greeting cards in their inception form”. Mr uppal could sense that I am not interested in his condition. “As you know I own a greeting card company.  New Year, Rose day and Valentines Day is not far away and this is a kind of harvesting season for us. These are the designs which I have to approve as per demand of the market. After my initial selection of designs, it goes to the copy writer to put appropriate words/ captions or verses –whatever you can say. Then the calligrapher (hand writing expert) gives the verses an artistic shape. Then graphic designer gives the final touch again before the printing process starts. So, ma’am, without my consultation and approval the whole process seize to roll and don’t you thinks I am in that condition where I can give just a couple of hrs today?...well! I should have asked for your permission earlier….”

“But don’t you give your creative director and his team a free hand?” I was still not interested in him. “After all you are only concerned with the financial aspect and the business part that kills the spirit”

“Ma’am these cards- if I can’t sell them in the market, how will I give their salaries? And not all people go by the sheer word power, external decoration plays the important part…”. He was right, after all a seasoned businessman.

“Have you selected any out of these?”

“Yes I have….18 till yet…but I need 150 designs….these ppl are very slow without me at office…” He was visibly upset again.

“Well…Mr Uppal…how much time usually your copy writer takes to write verses for …say…these 18 cards?”

“Roughly a week for the whole lot….they take the maximum time in this whole process…actually they can’t do it within the  confinement of the office cabin….creativity….mood…etc…etc…”

“Well…then why not give me these cards for overnight?. I mean I’ll try my hand on couple of them….and if your copy writer approves them later you can print them as well…”

“Have you done it before?”

“No….”I smiled sheepishly. “But I make my own cards. Don’t worry I am not asking for any compensation in return, just that I would love to see myself in print”. I chuckled.

And I didn’t sleep the rest of the night. Thankfully it was not a busy night and my staff managed without bothering me. I knocked Room no 15 at 8 am sharp.

“How are you Mr Uppal….”

“Oh I am fine thank you…..you look so fresh…..so…are you taking off today to finish with those cards…..I mean I need them at the earliest”. I smiled as I tried to feel his pulse.  

“ I am thru…with all 18 ….see here they are…let your copy writer have a look on them”

“I don’t believe”, mr Uppal almost snatched it from my grip. “You’re really very fast. I hope they are fine. I’ll let you know soon”.

And that ‘soon’ drifted into several days. He was discharged a day after the thing and his follow up visits with the consultant were usually during the day hrs when I was off duty. I had almost forget the whole episode till I got a call from Mr Uppal.

          “Doctor! I am Uppal this side…congratulations!....our copy writer has approved all your verses. Sorry to bother you but you have to take a little time out of your busy schedule to sit with our graphic designer for the final touch before they go to the print. Hope you can manage a couple of hours this afternoon. I can send my driver if you wish. Is it okay?”

                            And that was a dream come true. I was often pressurized by my near ones to send my ideas to some companies like Archies. But I always considered myself below par…good for nothing. Making Hand made cards as a hobby once in a while and going for them in a big way are two different things and I always had a time constraint to give it a serious thought. I thanked Sister Suman straightaway to who dragged me into the whole thing. She was a big fan for this “Jack of all trades” quality of mine.

              I was in their studio with the graphic designer Varun that afternoon much before our scheduled meeting. He took me by surprise with his creativity skills and I was thoroughly impressed with whosoever invented ‘Coral Draw’ and ‘Foto shop’. I was more impressed when I came to that Varun was actually the neighborhood tea vender five years ago, with no remarkable educational background and had picked up the skills during his stint with the previous professional designer of the studio who, taught him the fine aspects of designing during his free hours. Varun was highly gratified with Mr Uppal who gave him the opportunity to take over when his ‘Guru” quit for a break overseas. 

                     “My Guruji and Mr Uppal is everything for me”. He was visibly obliged to them. “A big drawback with me is my handicap with English. Here every thing is English based but people are very supportive. After making the final design I mail it to them for corrections which they cheerfully do. Which company do you work with?”

            “Me?...I am no pro copy writer. I am just a doctor and this is my first brush with all these”. I enjoyed the moment when he gaped in disbelief. “Just a hobby thing for me. Shall we start?”

‘A little time out of your busy schedule’, that Mr Uppal has requested me for, actually ran up to several hours by the time we were through with all 18 cards. I made Vaarun sweat in his shirt with my peculiar demands. And I was thoroughly satisfied when I saw their final shape on desk top. “My Brain child”, I thought. I could feel the adrenalin rush inside me and a tint of eagerness to see the prints as soon as possible, a la impatient first time pregnant lady.

         “Please don’t embarrass me. I didn’t do all this for money”, I pleaded Mr Uppal later when we were enjoying a steaming mug of coffee in his cabin and he pushed a thin envelope with some currency notes peeping from the slit. “Rather I am thankful that you gave this platform. I can’t charge you for that. Yeah later if I decide to go pro I’ll definitely accept. But not now”

         “But we are professionals. Moreover I am going to make money out of these and I had to pay the copywriter anyway. So I am not doing any favors as such”

            “See Mr Uppal, let me decide the way I think. Please don’t push me hard. Rather do one thing, when the prints are out, for me keep 1 packet each of all 18 cards that I have made. That’s all. I don’t want anything extra. Please…”.

                      Mr Uppal kept his promise after a month and sent me a huge carton containing 18 packets of cards – my brain child. I opened each packet with trembling fingers and wet eyes and like a enthusiastic overjoyed child broke the news to my near and dear ones and soon I was overloaded with demands to send samples. And then something caught my eyes-

                    The best card among the lot had a blunder on the opening page itself. Courtesy Varun and his handicap with English. The inner page, also known as the 'tongue' of a card  had the following verse written by me:-
                                 
                   I SHARE WITH YOU
                        MY DREAMS
                        MY SUCCESS
                        MY JOYS....

                  I BRING TO YOU
                        MY LAUGHTER 
                        MY WINS
                        MY CELEBRATIONS...

                    I SEARCH IN YOU
                       STRENGTH TO OVERCOME
                       MY INNER CONFLICTS, AND 
                       MY PAINS...

                  I'VE GIFTED YOU
                        MY HEART,
                        MY LIFE
                        MY LOVE...

             BECAUSE I KNOW YOU CARE
            HAPPY VALENTINES DAY....    

The caption that I put on the front page to match the above verse, was in fact a line from a famous album of Bryan Adams- EVERYTHING I DO, I DO IT FOR YOU. The opening line and the verse on the 'tongue page' were perfectly matching. But by mistake Varun typed on the front page :-

                                       EVERYTIME I DO,
                                       I DO IT FOR YOU….

         And that particular card, incidentally, sold a whooping more than 50,000 pieces all over India!!!!!!......

(N. B. - I hereby express my heartfelt gratitude to Gifty Boy of Iland-Giftson SJ, who taught me how to upload images right in the middle of the text page. Images are too small, I know, but then this is my first attemp...Thank you Gifty Boy)