Soul Speak

“Someone had to do it,” says Walekar with a nonchalant air about him,adding,“I mean here was a city full of panic stricken people,who were as confused as they were scared,and there were very few who were actually trying to douse out this fire of disconcertedness and panic,so I had to do my bit.”

Working the graveyard shift for hours on end,a typical day for Walekar would constitute of speaking to people over the telephone line,which refused to cease from ringing. Right from counseling them about the symptoms of the disease,to the curative measures that were to be taken,Walekar explained it all in English,Hindi,Marathi and Gujarati without battling an eye-lid.

“I wasn’t the only one exposed to the serious risk of the swine-flu. We had patients queuing up in beelines to get themselves tested,medical faculties at the hospital working without a break for hours on end,and even family members and relatives of anxious patients who were equally at risk,” he says,recounting the initial chaos that had set in during the early days of the pandemic.

While Walekar whose roots trace back to Gujarat continued to calm frayed nerves over the telephone he would also duly make notes of all the people who would call in to enquire about the tests conducted and their reports that would come in from the National Institute of Virology. He says,“Outside alleviating the panic,the most important thing,I felt,was to ensure that the time and money of the people was not wasted in making trips to the hospital. So when any one would call to enquire about their reports,I’d take down their numbers and personally call them after three days when the reports would come,to come and collect them.”

But perhaps the biggest source of happiness that this hospital employee,who has now been working for 22 years,feels,is when random people to whom he had counselled over the phone,come to thank him for having had the time and patience to hear them out patiently. “I don’t really think there is a bigger joy than that,” he says with a smile.