So, Sher Singh returned to the den, after much coaxing and fuming. After the drinking partner left, Mogambo and she coexisted, by staying out of each other’s way.

It didn’t last very long. Mr Mogambo’s excessive drinking and no eating landed him infront of a doctor this morning. Sher ( her father’s nickname for her) sat next to him growling, as he threw a fit about something or the other. ‘I don’t need anyone. You go to work and I will go to the doctor, myself. The driver will take me,’ he started the previous night and continued with yelling about something or the other, at Medanta, the next day. ‘I don’t want to live, how can you force me to? It’s my life!’ He went on and on.

SC just hid through it all, peeping from behind SB, to see what was happening. She hardly ever comes out infront of the Father, he hurts her way too easily, so SB stands between them, for protection. SB handles him like a pro- with an aggression and a tone, the Kochar men are famous for. After a junior doctor checked the BP ( which was high) and the stomach, we were sent to meet the one we had an actual appointment with. The senior doctor checked him out and said that there is a problem with the liver and there’s a possibility there may be some water in it (fyi that means the person may die very soon) and we should immediately get an ultrasound done.

SB listened as coldly as she could. As they walked for the ultrasound she looked at the Father and said, ‘ what were you thinking? If you go with your drinking partner and buy alcohol from shady people during a lockdown and sit and drink, day in and day out, what else is going to happen?’ ‘No one can force me to quit. It’s my life, I will not quit drinking!’ pat came the reply.

As they took him inside for the ultrasound and I waited outside, there was no stopping SC. She just started weeping inconsolably, as the other patients glared at her, sniffing. Crying while you’re wearing a mask and sitting in a hospital, not a good idea. But she wouldn’t stop. She woke up at 5.30 with a premonition. Now, sitting there, in front of her eyes, was the recurring nightmare of her childhood. She would see this dream, it started after her mum burnt herself. She was in a dark room (some place as big as her basement) sitting in one corner on the floor, clutching her knees and sobbing inconsolably because everyone she knew had left. It always made her wake up, feeling intensely lonely. The recurring dream became less frequent when it started turning into a reality.

SB tried to calm her down but to no avail and so she just got pissed. ‘God only puts us through as much as we handle’ some message like that, one received after the mother’s passing. SB remembered that, ‘Fuck you God! Really fuck you! You think, do you really think I can handle this, right now?’ she started fuming at the Creator. Right on cue, she heard her Father laughing and thanking someone.

‘Why are you crying? I only have gas! Go ask them!’ he said. Of course he didn’t mention he also has an enlarged liver and the fact that they were asking him to cut down drinking. A few more tests are required as the GGTP is very high but Mogambo had only one thing to say-‘ itna he farak pad rahaa he baap ka to, apna liver de de. Peena to mein chodunga nahin! ‘ For today he’s drained out SC, tomorrow SB will handle everything, like she always, does.