In times when nets and cell phone proliferate, making courtesy calls is almost an aberration. There was a time when paying a call was the only way to get the news you sought. Oddly, in some cases it remains at times the only way at our disposal.

Three calls needed to be made: one to enquire about a lost smile, the other to our cerulean boy, and the third to a mother who needed to be admonished.

So we set off in the watery sun of a winter morning. The first stop was at Nanhe’s in search of the elusive smile. We found him a tad better, but no sign of the smile. His body was less swollen though the pain was still visible on his face. On checking the hospital papers we were horrified to se that his weight was a mere 15 kilos, a stark reminder of the fact that he had barely eaten for the last two weeks. His brave mom filled the silence by telling us that the doctor had asked her to come by this afternoon to get a date for the operation. We realised that what was comingin the way of the surgery was the poor condition he was in.

A few mental notes were made by all of us: get some liquid food supplements, provide transport for the hospital visits, get his teachers to come by and sit with him. None of us spoke as we left him. We had not found the smile.

The nest stop was to see deepak who we were told had come home. As news of our arrival traveled fast, we were met by Deepak himself in the arms of his much relieved grandma. We were happy to see him as gone was the blue hue that had worried us so much. He was as pink as can be and gratified us with a huge smile. The only reminder of his 7 months ordeal was a scar that began almost at the base of his throat.

Next we had to meet sapna and monty’s mom, as the two kids had plaid truant for far too long. We found her sitting at her tea shop. She was looking weary and dragging her feet and told us that she had not been able to get them ready in time. We did chide her and extracted a promise that she would make the effort, but in our hearts we knew her problem. Sorry for being graphic but this poor woman has lived for over two years with a prolapsed uterus. When we had tried to get her operated it was discovered that she had a heart condition and needed a valve replacement. That had been done but somehow the uterus had been forgotten.

We told her to get to the hospital and fix her surgery and that we would help in whatever way we could remembering that the last time the operation had not been done because she had no one to donate blood.

The calls were over.. we returned back in silence

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