Odyssey : chapter 5

a doctor, a ghost and maybe few aliens; what could go wrong ?

Sep 21, 2025

If you haven’t read the previous chapters, I request you to read the for context. link at the end 👇🏻

Chapter 5 – Odyssey

The OPD was a buzzing swarm of bees. The number of incoming patients far exceeded the number being seen by doctors. Unit heads barked orders while interns frantically ran from OPD to labs for the most dreaded task of internship : “sample collection”.

Mohit was handling OPD alongside the senior resident of the unit.

“Aunty, sugar bohot bada hai aapka,” (Aunty, your sugar is very high) he said, his voice laced with stern concern, to a lady in her late forties, a housewife by profession. Her ignorance about the disease and reluctance to take corrective measures could not be attributed entirely to her fault, but rather to the lack of education and proper counselling. Amidst the overwhelming crowd of patients, Mohit tried to educate her in the few minutes he could spare.

As he wrapped up the case, his mind wandered to Akshara. He had tried to say goodbye to her earlier, but she seemed preoccupied with the residues of her own thoughts.

“Thoughts are tricky… they keep the living dead in their surroundings and the dead alive in memories. The living, depressed, long to hug eternal silence; and that poor girl keeps trying to find notes of her past life in mundane things.”

His internal monologue ended as he called the next patient. While writing a psych reference for the patient, Mohit’s grip on his pen tightened and his brows squit slightly as noticed Akshara popping her head through the door.

For a brief moment, he even considered getting the psych consult himself. Before his thoughts could reach a conclusive destination, Akshara stepped fully into the examination room.

Mohit, though feeling awkward, acknowledged her with a blink. Anything more than that would definitely attract unnecessary attention.

He wrapped up the case and asked the sister to hold up the next patient for a moment.

“Hi,” he greeted her.

“Hi,” she responded. “Can I stay here with you? I was bored at home. The accident keeps flashing in front of me. This feels familiar… when I was alive, I felt all my storms settle down while looking at cases,” she tried to explain, limiting her words, but her eyes were speaking volumes of the unfiltered plight of her heart.

He nodded in affirmation. “You’re welcome to be a silent observer,” he said.

Minutes poured into hours. The OPD finally breathed silence as Mohit closed the last case of the day.

Akshara was sitting on a stool near the examination bed, drooling, her ethereal form merged into thin air, with only faint boundaries aiding Mohit to acknowledge her presence.

Mohit chuckled at the sight. “Poor girl never got the chance to go through the internship phase. I wonder what kind of intern she would have been? a diligent one or like me, who ran away from the OPD the first chance I used to get,” he thought to himself.

“DING!” Mohit’s phone rang with a notification, breaking his chain of thoughts and Akshara’s slumber.

“Meet me in canteen after OPD,” the message read.

“Good morning, ghost queen,” he greeted Akshara, who was registering her surroundings.

“I didn’t know that ghosts sleep,” Mohit said, packing his paraphernalia into his bag.

“I’m going to canteen. Are you coming, or are you planning to haunt this OPD?” he asked.

Before she could answer, he spoke again. “Actually, haunt this OPD; who knows, I might get a holiday before they figure out what to do with the ghost,” he said nonchalantly.

“Shut up,” Akshara replied, embarrassed by her dozing.

In the canteen:

The aroma of spices was floating in the air. The ladles were clanking on the pots and pans, students relaxing after a packed day were chit-chatting; the chaos filled every nook and corner of the canteen, yet created a soothing symphony.

Mohit entered the canteen. While trying to find his way through the chairs and the passing waiters, his head turned toward the familiar voice that called his name.

“Mohit! Here!” the source of the voice said while waving his hand.

Mohit found his way towards the voice and greeted, “Good evening, Dr. Mukul.”

“Good evening, Mohit,” Dr. Mukul Guru wished back.

“Coffee?” Dr. Mukul asked Mohit. As Mohit nodded in affirmation, Dr. Mukul asked the waiter to get two coffees.

Akshara was seated beside Mohit, and Mohit had to act as if he wasn’t shadowed by the ghost the entire day.

“Here is the paper I asked you for help with citations,” Dr. Mukul Guru said, handing over a folder to Mohit.

Dr. Mukul Guru, a bachelor in his early thirties, his fair complexion complementing his dense, dark black eyes, was a happy-go-lucky personality but a little old school. Even in the age of big data and cloud software with terabytes of storage, he liked to keep hard copies of his documents with him always. He had taken Mohit under his wing since the day Mohit joined the hospital as a house officer.

The waiter brought the coffee, and the aroma of coffee hit Mohit and Akshara alike.

Before Dr. Guru could take his coffee, his phone rang, demanding immediate attention. He got up as he took the coffee. They bid each other adieu, and Dr. Guru left.

Mohit acted as if he was on a call when he looked at Akshara and asked her silently, in sign, “Coffee?” so as to avoid attracting the attention of any passerby.

Akshara nodded her head. Mohit asked for an extra coffee, took the paper cup, and got up to leave.

Unbeknownst to Mohit, Dr. Guru witnessed the silent conversation in the thin air that Mohit had a few moments ago, but before Dr. Guru’s brain could conclusively process it, his attention was disturbed by his phone again.

“Meeting me at the mortuary, right?” the message read.

“Mohit,” Dr. Guru called him. “Come on, Pranay is calling us. He says he has something interesting to show.”

Mohit made his way out of the chaos toward Dr. Guru, who raised a brow about the two coffee cups.

“This is for a friend. I will meet you at the mortuary,” he said hurriedly, rushing out of the scene.

At the mortuary:

“Hello, Mukul,” Dr. Pranay greeted. A smile crept onto their faces as they met after long.

“What’s up, Pranay? You forgot us ever since you got married. How are you lovebirds doing?” he asked while hugging Dr. Pranay.

“Okay, guilty,” Pranay accepted.

“ how is your research going about the role of rna in the treatment. man we need to catch up” pranay asked dr. guru.

“ we suerly do. let's plan it later” dr. guru replied.

Mohit and Dr. Pranay exchanged pleasantries as they traversed the corridors of the mortuary.

Mohit felt the cold seeping into his bones. A shiver passed down his spine as he crossed the rooms occupied with the metal boxes.

The corridor was dark, ending with a light at the far end from the post mortem room.

The light drew them forward, drawing their steps toward the purpose of their visit, while the shadowy corridor seemed to fade behind them, leaving only the quiet hum of anticipation in the air.

a/n : here, chapter 5 is served hot.
subscribe to join us on journey with Akshara and Mohit.

the internal monologue of mohit, where in he wonders what kind of intern akshara would be is a frequent conversation i have with my senior whenever we talk.

he being a RMO now, often wonders about what kind of intern “this girl” (ie me) would be. and his answer to it is “ the overthinking one, no chill type”

Lol

link to previous chapters

enjoy folks!!!