Those Beloved Hospital Kids

A doctor’s mundane workday transforms, while watching the children in his hospital campus

- Hansda Sowvendra Shekhar

ONE OF MY FAVOURITE THINGS at the hospital, where I work, is watching Sweety Kumari* and Chhotu trudge up to the hospital building from far across the campus beyond which they live. Sweety Kumari is an ANM (auxiliary nurse and midwife) in our hospital and Chhotu is her three-year-old son. Sweety is slightly built—about five feet tall—and Chhotu is tiny. Watching them walk up to the hospital gives me a lot of happiness.

Sweety carries a tote with their belongings to see them through an entire shift and walks ahead, while Chhotu, drags a toy truck tied to a string and follows his mother dreamily. Sweety walks and Chhotu, lost in his own world of toy automobiles, sometimes entangled in the web of strings he pulls them with, follows his mother with tiny steps. Not even once does Sweety need to turn around to see if Chhotu is following her. Only an occasional prompt, urging him to walk faster, suffices: “Chhotu, Mummy has to hurry, no?” And Chhotu gets the hint and immediately steps up.

“Vroom … vroom …” a hospital staffer passing by says, as he sees Chhotu speeding by. “Chal Chhotu, Aur tez bhaga [Come on Chhotu, faster, faster!].”