What the Doctor Ordered Continues ……….

At a street corner, he spotted a taxi parked with its driver sitting inside, waiting, perhaps, for his last customer before he called it a day. On an impulse, Satish asked the cabby if he knew of a charitable hospital in the neighbourhood as a close relative of his required immediate medical attention. The cabby asked if Satish was looking for the ‘khairati’ (charitable) hospital run by Dr Jalees Ansari. Satish, ignorant of the name of the man who ran the charitable hospital, took a chance and said yes. The cabby gave precise directions not only to the hospital but also to the chawl (shanty) where the doctor lived, which was on the floor above the hospital. Luckily for Satish, he offered to walk with him and point out the place.
As the cabby began to lock the car doors, Satish signalled Pramod and Raman to follow him but at a distance. The police officers felt they were finally in business. Adrenaline began to course through their veins and their hearts began to pound uncontrollably. They knew, almost instinctively, that their quarry was within sniffing distance, much like a predator on sighting its prey.
Satish and the cabby, with Pramod and Raman in tow, reached their destination in no time. The charitable hospital, with a prominent sign, stood right before them, and above it was a row of chawls, all almost identical and barely visible in the feeble light emanating from the municipal lamp posts nearby. Satish asked the cabby if he could do him one last favour. Could he accompany him to the doctor’s chawl lest he knock on the wrong door? The cabby obliged, walking up the creaking stairs with him, down a narrow corridor and right up to the doctor’s chawl. He knocked on the door, announcing that someone needed medical attention urgently.

To be Continued ………….