# 5

To say that Naresh Gupta was the leading ophthalmologist in the country would be correct, but far from complete. It had got to the point that his reputation far exceeded his abilities. More than a good doctor, he was a master businessman. He had set up, almost single handedly, the largest and most advanced nursing home and research centre dedicated exclusively to the diagnosis and treatment of ophthalmic ailments in India. If the purpose of life is a life of purpose, he had certainly both discovered and realized his.

His son Amit was an average kid. Not exceptionally sharp at studies, no achievements to speak of in extra-curricular activities. Come to think of it, he was actually quite like his father, minus the passion to make it big and the clarity of vision to realize where and how. Probably the only thing remotely “special” about him was his near supernatural ability to communicate with animals. The most fearful stray in the street behaved like a pet with him, and while he was in his room, there was hardly a time when birds didn’t crowd the window sill. Whether he actually understood their language, or whether he just had a heightened sense of understanding of their needs, only he knew. Anyway, when his father pressured him to take up biology in high school, he didn’t have any particular qualms, because he was equally disinterested in nearly all subjects. In fact, he decided (secretly, of course) to put his only special skill to use by becoming a veterinarian. To this end, he studied hard and did reasonably well in high school. However, when the time came to apply to colleges, his father would have none of his nonsensical career choice. To Naresh, his son becoming a “doctor of animals” was no less disgraceful than a crown prince renouncing his kingdom in search of salvation. He never did like Gautam Buddha.

So Naresh leveraged all his connections in the field and Amit was promptly sent off to one of the country’s top medical schools, where he managed to finish his undergraduate studies without much fuss. His secret ambition hadn’t really been an ambition at all, and he continued with his favorite pastime, while going through the motions in college. It was pretty much the same story when he was shipped off to the University of Colorado Denver School of Medicine's Department of Ophthalmology for his postgraduate studies, and he even managed to overcome minor incidents of racism in college, not because his spirit was indefatigable or anything, but simply because it was, for all practical purposes, dead.

Bill O’ Daniel had always been proud of his impeccable eyesight. During his amateur cowboy training course, which he had taken up as a divertissement in college, he was renowned as “Bull’s Eye Billy”, and for good reason. He had also been involved in the infamous killing of two black youth in college, but his Dad being a judge obviously helped his “case”, if you get my drift. His career had shaped up well enough too. Who would have thought “Bull’s eye Billy” would end up being a corporate slave, but he didn’t particularly mind it. He earned well, and had kept up with his gun slinging habits, thanks to the second amendment. Now he mostly targeted birds for his amusement, because times were hard and niggers were not sitting ducks anymore. Off late though, his impeccable eyesight had started to betray him. He decided to get it fixed, lest he lose his most prized possession. Preliminary examination suggested cataract, and his company set up an appointment with Dr. Amit Gupta. Bill was furious. He argued his lungs out with his HR line manager, but she would have none of it. Dr. Gupta was a reputed, and more importantly, the only eye surgeon who was a selected provider under the company’s managed care program. Mr. O’ Daniel was free to finance the treatment on his own if he didn’t wish to be treated by the doctor selected by the company.

Cursing his luck, Bill went to see Dr. Amit. He was asked to settle down in the chair. He grudgingly obeyed. Dr. Amit then said that he would need to conduct a comprehensive test to confirm that it was indeed cataract before he began the treatment. Following the test, Bill would not be allowed to drive for 24 hours and it would be advisable for him to stay indoors in general.
“That’s the first time I’ve heard that baloney! You’re just trying to extract more money from the company, you fuckin’ parasite.”
Amit heaved a deep sigh.
“I know your type! All you fuckin brown bastards are penny-pinching motherfuckers. You’d sell your own mother for the greens. You’re worse than the Jews, if ya ask me!”
“Sir, there is no need for improper behaviour. I’d appreciate it if you settled down and let me perform the required test.”
“Wow, look at you all polite and shit! Is that what they teach ya in your famed culture, to lick the balls of the guy who fucks ya in the ass? C’mon man, it’s so fuckin apparent that you’re mad at me. So why this stupid show of tolerance? Cut it out, ya sand nigger!”
Dr. Amit Gupta’s license was revoked and he spent the better part of his remaining life talking to birds out of his prison cell in the Shawshank Penitentiary, Maine.
Bill O’ Daniel never told his kids the true story of how he came to be known as “Buccaneer Billy”.