As i entered the hallway taking the prescription of vaccine from the reception desk, that bitter taste of oral polio vaccine hits straight and that very second is what we call, nostalgia.
I haven't been here, B.B. Charitable Hospital, since what, as i remember, i was 7 and by that age i shouldn't be taking it, wasn't necessary but developed the liking towards that taste of these drops. Strange.
Today what i see is unbelievable that same man, 14 years or more have gone and his hair too by now, sits there with that grey-colored box of oral vaccines. At the very same place where he used to, though now the table-chair is wood-furnished than that of the plastic one's back then.
How I'm so sure?
I wouldn't have actually, if he hadn't asked the lady with a year old child
“आपने बैक्सीनेशन कर वाली ” with that, a gush of bittersweet times past hit me in that muggy hall room. That man with one front tooth pronounce व as ब, he writes Vicky but pronounced it as Bicky, his name.
Well i had other things to deal with, a stray dog bite the maid this morning while she was leaving our place and that's the very reason, a civic hospital do vacation for cheaper price, so here I'm.
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