The Dutiful Daughter

By Marina Ferreira

How far would you go to correct the mistakes of the past?

Dr Neha Shivastava-McKenzie is a talented trauma surgeon based in Los Angeles. Surrounded by a small circle of friends, she has dedicated years of study to saving lives and making a difference. But when a call turns her world upside down, Neha leaves it all behind to mend fences with her family.

From sunny Los Angeles to the crowded streets of Mumbai, India, Neha must navigate the social minefield of a patriarchal Hindu society, third-world medicine and the constraints placed on her by her family's rejection.

During her journey, she makes new friends, new enemies and learn that sometimes, you just cannot do it all alone.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Marina Ferreira
• Release date: Dec 27, 2021
• ISBN: 9780620713153

Marina Ferreira

Daydreamer. Inspiration seeker. Author.She has been called many things in her life, but Indie Author is the label she wears with the most pride. Born and raised in a small mining town in the Northwest Province of South Africa, her daydreams have always led her to more exotic places.Writing has been a passion of hers since she was encouraged by an English teacher to pursue her dreams. In 2013 Marina obtained a Bachelor of Arts degree from the University of South Africa (UNISA) in English Language and Literature with specialization in Creative Writing. She also completed a course in proofreading and editing from the Writers College in 2018.She lives alone with her furkid and loves reading, cooking and travel.

Book preview

She looked out of the window, out towards the harbor and fixed her gaze on the perfectly symmetrical façade of the Gateway of India. Small groups of people camped out on the grass in front of the monument, enjoying the afternoon sunlight, but they looked like ants from her vantage point in the hotel room. Longing to be one of them, she used all of her strength to pull herself away from the window.

On the bed behind her was the collection of things she threw together that one night, three weeks ago.

Three weeks?

It felt more like three months. She started to fold the salwaars, anarkalis and other clothes to place carefully into her suitcase.

The hotel telephone rang, shattering the air-conditioned silence.

She stared at it, dumbly for a long while before reaching out for it.

Dr. Shivastava-McKenzie? I have a call for you, the voice on the phone said.

I will take it, thank you, she answered with a shaky voice.

There was a click and some generic hotel music before a male voice came onto the line. While she waited, she twisted a long strand of her dark brown hair around her slender finger. Her clear blue-green eyes drifted towards the window again.

Dr. Neha Shivastava-McKenzie? This is Dr. Naidoo.

She sat down on a small open space on the bed. Dr. Naidoo. How can I help you?

I'm calling with regards to your application.

She held her breath, willing the man on the other side to speak faster before she asphyxiated.

The board has reviewed your application for the position in our Accident and Emergency Unit and it pleases me to let you know that your application has been successful.

The air rushed from her lungs. T-thank you, Dr. Naidoo.

We understand that you will need to return to America to finalize your things, but can we assume that you will be ready for duty before the end of the month?

Neha closed her eyes for a moment. You're not giving me much time, but I think two weeks should be sufficient. I have already resigned from my previous position at the LA County Hospital, so it should only be to arrange the shipping of my belongings.

Dr. Naidoo cleared his throat. Shall I ask our HR department to contact you to assist with your relocation? Do you have a place to stay other than the hotel? he asked.

Thank you, but no thank you, Dr. Naidoo. I will be fine. Remember, I'm an old resident of this city, she answered and sighed.

"Thi ke, he said, Have a safe trip, Dr. Neha and we hope to see you soon."

Thi ke meant alright. But was all right?

Neha hung up and stared at the carnage around her. Her taxi was ordered for six o'clock, leaving her three hours to pack and prepare for the long flight home.

Home? Where was home in any case. A twenty hour flight back to LA felt like going home, but when she thought about it, Mumbai had always been home.

She picked up the phone and called a cellphone number she knew by heart.

Dadi, it's Neha… Can I come over?

She hailed a taxi outside the hotel's door to take her to Bandra West. The route the driver chose took her past some of her favorite childhood haunts. There was the Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Vastu Sangrahalaya museum where her father brought her as a child. They passed the Crawford Market area where she and her mother used to shop at the mela just before celebrating Diwali. They crossed the Mahim Bay on the Bandra-Worli Sea Link road and came to Bandra West. There she located the Ashiana Housing Complex. It wasn't difficult to see why her Dadi, maternal grandmother, chose to live in this vibrant retirement village.

Neha found her coming back to her apartment, dressed in sports gear.

Namaste, Dadi, she said and bent down to touch her grandma's sneaker-clad feet. Have you been out jogging again?

The old lady laughed. She wore her long, silver hair in a braid that competed with Neha's for length and thickness with a cap on top. Played a little game of lawn tennis with Old Jammat from downstairs.

Neha laughed as she shook her head. At this rate, you will outlive us all, Dadi!

The older woman huffed. You're a doctor, Neha-love. You should know the benefits of a healthy versus sedentary lifestyle. I'd rather go out with a racket in my hand, than in a rocking chair.

Neha smiled and hugged her grandma. And may your wishes be granted, she added.

Come, let us have some lassi and we can talk, Jaya said and pulled her granddaughter into her apartment.

When they sat with a cool glass of mango lassi, a yoghurt based drink, in their hands, her grandmother turned her hawkish eyes on her.

Something is wrong. Will you tell me what it is?

I… She looked down, hesitating. I have fought hard for everything I've accomplished in my life so far. First it was getting into university, and then into medical school. In America it wasn't much easier. Their universities looked down on my qualifications from Mumbai University, but at the end I won the battle and graduated top of my class. I battled prejudice against Indians in the hospitals; I changed patients' misconceptions and doubts and worked myself into one of the top positions in my field. I've achieved everything I could've ever wanted.

Grandma Jaya squeezed her hand with an understanding smile.

The thing is, suddenly I want to throw away all that I have fought for and . . .

"Aur?"

"Aur come back to fight a whole new war against the prejudice in the place of my birth without the backing of the strongest support system I have ever known. I want to come back and face all those people who will wag their fingers at me and say 'A Hindu widow doesn't work! She doesn't laugh, have fun or have a life! Why didn't you marry your husband's youngest brother?'"

Why? her grandma asked, baffled.

Because ma needs someone to help her take care of Bauji, Neha answered.

Her grandma pulled a funny face. You mean, after your Bauji rejected you and removed you from his will, you are still willing to uproot your whole life for him?

Isn't that what is required of me? Is that not what a dutiful daughter would do?

Her grandma stared at her in wonderment. What about your life in America?

Neha shrugged. It will still be there when I go back. I know that the hospital will understand, and my friends will respect my decision. I have something lined up here, a job, and I can always go live in our old place.

It sounds as if you have it all figured out. Why are you here, then, pestering me with this?

Neha laughed at her grandma's tough exterior, but averted her eyes. I'm here because I need your inexhaustible wisdom, Dadi.

Grandma Jaya put her glass down and took her granddaughter's hands in hers, without saying anything.

I'm afraid, Dadi. I have been afraid ever since you called me that day, to tell me the news that my own mother did not have the courage to give to me. Ma is living in fear of my father and all of this because of what I did . . .

You did nothing to be afraid, or ashamed of, Neha. You followed your heart, Jaya said and squeezed her hand.

What if Bauji cannot make peace with me? What if we never get back that magic we had between us before everything happened? Neha asked, Should I really give up everything in the hope that he might accept me as his daughter again?

Her grandmother touched her chin gently, tilting it up. You, dearest child, need not give up anything. That stubborn, stupid father of yours have been too caught up in his own pain and perceived rejection by you that he could not see what you have done, or why you did it. You have achieved all of this fame and fortune to make him proud, and yet he rejected you for it? Silly man.

Neha wiped a single tear from her eye. I have lost so much, Dadi. I don't know if I could face his rejection a second time. The first time around was bad enough, but then I had Jordan with me . . . Now, I'm all alone.

You're not alone, you have me, child. I will stand by you through this, if you decide to stay and face your demons.

Neha sat quietly for a moment. If I leave today, I will be returning in time for Diwali.

My child, returning home like Lord Rama, after spending fourteen years in exile. Auspicious, don't you think? Jaya asked with a smile.

Neha became emotional again. Diwali is Bauji's favorite festival. This year, we will celebrate it without him.

When you get back to Mumbai after settling your things in America, come spend the night with us, here. I will offer to Lord Ganesh for you that your journey to reconciliation with your father will be without obstacles.

Sukriya, Dadi.

Chapter 2

Dr. Neha Shivastava-McKenzie. Daughter of Amir Shivastava. Wife of Jordan McKenzie. Trauma surgeon.

That is all she ever was. Those three titles defined her whole existence in that specific order of importance.

Her father was a bastion of propriety in their community. A powerful and respected member of society. A patron of the arts. A devoted worshipper of Ganesh, Shiva and Rama.

He raised her with the same values and principles that his father had imprinted on him from a young age. She never lacked anything, whether it was support or financial means to make her dreams come true. He was always her greatest champion.

That is until . . .

Her husband was a visionary man. He came to India to travel, experience the culture and live a little before settling down in a boring job in Los Angeles. He didn't plan on falling head over heels for a pre-med student from the university where he helped out to supplement his traveling fund. She didn't plan on marrying outside of her race or religion, but there they were, six months after their first meeting, married and on their way back to his homeland to say goodbye to his dying father.

Neha relived that flight into the unknown as she travelled back to Los Angeles. It was a twenty hour long flight which left her with ample time to consider her current and past actions.

Her father was angry because she put her studies on hold, her mother feared her safety abroad and her husband was too caught up in his own emotions to really notice how terrified his young bride was. Looking back now, it all seemed so rash and unnecessary – not the marriage, just the extreme circumstances under which it happened.

Now, Neha was older, more experienced – a specialist in the field of emergency medicine at the relatively young age of only thirty-three – but she feared that she was not wiser. Another set of extreme circumstances were forcing her into a corner and she doubted that it would have any different outcome.

Four weeks ago, Dr. Neha Shivastava-McKenzie was living the high life. As one of the trauma surgeons at the LA County Hospital in Los Angeles, she was loved and respected by her peers, colleagues and patients alike.

She thrived in the unexpected chaos that reigned supreme in the busy Accident and Emergency Unit, but always made time for her human connections.

She left the cubicle and walked over to the nurses' station.

Hey, Dr. Neha, one of the nurses said and smiled at her.

Hi, Samantha. Busy day today?

Oh, the usual. Kids injuring themselves while doing stupid stunts; two car pileup on the highway. . . Nothing for you, yet, Samantha answered with a grin. Would you like some tea? I'm heading to the kitchen now.

She glanced at the clock against the wall. Yes, I think I would like some. I suspect my patient is going to be in Radiology for a few minutes longer.

She followed the nurse into the kitchen and sat down while she made the tea. How is your boy doing after the Grommets?

Samantha turned to her with a sigh. Those damn things! I'm not convinced that it is doing more good than evil!

Neha laughed and took the cup of tea from her. Children and ears are always a dangerous combination.

More importantly, how was Cabo?

Neha sighed. Perfect. I can't think of a better place to have spent my birthday.

Dr. Dave Moran came through the door just as Neha took her first sip. It's a ruptured spleen, he announced.

Couldn't you just let me drink my tea? she exclaimed, pretending to be upset.

Samantha took the cup from her and decanted it into a takeaway cup.

Thanks Samantha, she said. Okay, her husband should start the admission process. I'll rally the troops in theatre!

Being up to her elbows in organs and blood was where Neha felt at home. Between the beeping machines and background music, she found her calm. Normal people didn't understand it. She knew her parents wouldn't understand it, but at the end of the day she did and she knew that this was the only place where her life made sense.

Here, saving lives whenever she could.

She ran from the lift to the door of the apartment and knocked violently.

Okay, okay! Hold your horses! someone yelled from inside. It took him a while to open the door.

What news from India? she demanded as the man opened the door.

Danny McKenzie hugged his sister-in-law and smiled. Your grandmother sends her love, and a package, he added and took a big box from the counter. You can be thankful that I pack light.

She ripped the box open and rifled through the contents. How does she look? The last time I spoke to her she was having trouble with her arthritic hands.

She looks well, Neha, very well. She just misses you a lot, Danny said and sat down on the couch next to her.

Inside the box was a new silk scarf, a tin of sweetmeats and a set of bangles. I have been missing her a lot too, Neha said and hugged the scarf to her face. Did she say anything about my parents?

She said that they are well, working very hard, but well, he answered calmly.

She nodded.

She also said that you mustn't lose hope, Neha. She says that she is praying for a resolution every day. She is going to submerge a Ganesh idol for you during Ganesh Chaturthi.

Neha sighed and stood up. The only way that happens is if my father, she paused and made the sign of the cross and something else he didn't recognize, passes away and takes his hatred for me to the grave. Heaven forbids that it should ever happen, though. And even if, heaven not be willing, it does happen, I am so sure his hatred for me is so strong, that he will even prohibit my mother from having contact with me posthumously in his will.

Danny stood up and hugged her. You mustn't lose hope, Neha, and that's not just your grandmother saying so. I know that Jordan and my family are the main reason why your family is torn apart, but somehow things must be resolved.

Neha looked up into the face of her brother-in-law. There was so much that reminded her of her husband in him. They had the same grey eyes, sharp nose and easy smile. They both had the same calming tone in their voice when she was fraying at the seams.

They both loved her.

I think I'm going back to my place for a moment, just to have a shower and then I'll be back for dinner.

You do that, Danny said and smiled. I'm making ragu.

She couldn't have guessed at the time that she would receive a call from her grandmother only a few weeks later, telling her that her father was in hospital. The great man, Amir Shivastava had suffered a heart attack and a CVI and was currently lying in the ICU of one of Mumbai's foremost hospitals. If anyone had told her that she would drop everything in her life and hurry to her mother's side, she would have laughed at them, but that was exactly what she did.

Neha Shivastava-McKenzie was nothing if not a dutiful daughter through and through.

It took her less than five minutes of reading her father's charts to realize that things were direr than her mother could imagine and only two weeks to know that her life had been altered irrevocably in the span of one telephone conversation. Neha knew she couldn't leave her mother alone to face the long road that lay before them. She knew she had to make a choice.

One afternoon, after visiting her comatose father again, Neha paced the corridor, phone pressed to her ear.

And you say there is still no foreseeable date that your father may be released?

She was on the phone to the Chief of Surgery, Dr. Williams.

He is technically still in a coma, Sir. The scans show no clear reason for it, but he isn't waking up, she answered.

Well, as I have said before, Dr. Neha, the hospital understands the delicacy of the situation. We could extend your leave and make it unpaid leave should your annual leave run out.

I thank you for your understanding and the kindness that the hospital has shown me, but I feel that I am taking advantage of that kindness.

Don't you worry about that, Dr. Neha. Take care of your family and worry about the administration later, Williams said and hung up.

Neha stood still for a moment, her hands in her hair. She had been in Mumbai for almost two weeks now and still her father's condition showed no sign of improvement. She was starting to fear that he would never wakeup and inevitably she thought back to the words she spoke in Danny's living room long ago.

Long ago? It was barely three weeks since she had said that the only way that she could be reconciled with her family was if her father left the land of the living. She closed her eyes and started a fervent prayer.

Dear God, whoever you are, please send me a fortuitous sign. I am torn and afraid and I need a sign to direct me to the right outcome.

She opened her eyes and looked at a notice board in front of her. There were brightly colored posters on about events taking place at the hospital, from a wellness week promoting heart health, to fundraisers. To the left, there was a more sedate board, containing documents on official letterheads. Inexplicably, her attention was drawn to this board. Neha scanned the documents and found her sign. She spun on her heels and hurried down the corridor, sending a quick Sukriya! as a word of thanks to the heavens as she ran.

Neha was soul-weary when she got home. All the way from Mumbai to LA fear kept gnawing at her. She knew that she was going to encounter resistance and she didn't know how she would respond to it. Quitting her position at the hospital had been difficult enough, to say the least. You can't, however, quit your friends as easy as you quit your job. There are no forms or notice period on a friendship. It was the middle of the day and Cadie was still at the salon. Neha decided to rather go to bed than risk ruining a perfect day for her. She'd nap, then cook and invite them to dinner. There was nothing like butter chicken to soften the blow of bad news.

She awoke from her nap feeling slightly refreshed. With her feet in thick, woolen socks, she padded to the kitchen and began the process of making dinner. Onions and green bell peppers were chopped up finely and while these fried in a little olive oil on the hot plate, she put on some music and opened a bottle of wine. Norah Jones. Mellow bluesy songs that made her cry more than the onions did. She stirred slowly with one hand, wiped tears away with the other. On top of the stove she boiled sweet potatoes and spinach. She covered the chicken with the onions and peppers and slid it into the oven. Neha finished a glass of wine and sat down at the counter and watched the steam rise from the lids.

You're home! Cadie cried as she unlocked the front door,

Something smells great! She dumped her coat and handbag on the couch.

Butter chicken, sweet potatoes, creamed spinach and grilled veggies, Neha answered from the kitchen.

I've actually missed your cooking! Cadie added as she joined her in front of the stove. What's the occasion?

Neha bit her lip. News – I have news.

Her friend turned to her with a questioning look. Are you going to tell me?

No, I'll wait until Danny gets here, Neha answered firmly.

Cadie agreed to let it go for the moment, but as soon as dinner was served and Danny comfortably seated between them, she couldn't wait any longer. So, what's up?

Neha slowly set her knife and fork down. I am moving back to India.

The silence was so sudden; she could hear her own heart beating furiously in her ears.

I have been offered a position at the hospital where my father is still in the ICU.

How? Did they just walk up to you one day and ask 'Hey, do you want a job?'

Neha ignored the questions.

Are you going to take it? Cadie asked again, staring at her.

I already have.

Why? her friend asked, her voice raising a definite octave or two.

Apart from the fact that my father is still in a critical but stable condition, it is my mother I fear the most for. She is old, older than I thought she could possibly be and I cannot bear to leave her alone in these circumstances.

As she spoke, she noticed that her brother-in-law was gripping his cutlery so tightly, his knuckles had gone white. And yet, he remained quiet.

Cadie was evidently doing the talking for both of them.

After all you have accomplished here? After all the battles and struggles to get where you are today? she cried. What about Diane? What would your mother-in-law say?

Neha calmly looked up at her. I think she'll understand. After all, I did the very same thing when we heard of Danny and Jordan's father. You wouldn't keep me from my family in their hour of need.

Danny remained silent, staring at his food.

It's not a permanent arrangement. My father will recover and then I can come back to my life here. I'll be away for six months. Eight at the most, Neha continued.

This is insanity! Cadie cried, gathering her jacket and keys, Call me when you've come to your senses.

Neha stood up, trying to catch her hand, but she shook her off. She turned to Danny. Your turn – let me have it.

He stood up and hugged her tightly. I'll miss you, was all he said.

Neha looked up into the face of her dearest friend and closest connection to her departed husband. You're not going to try to change my mind?

Danny shook his head. You're doing what I would have done – what Jordan did when our father was at death's door. You followed him blindly to a new world, Neha, and I don't know if my brother ever thanked you for that. You brought light and love into our family, but we always knew you were only here on loan.

Tears sprung into her eyes as he spoke. Maybe I am making a mistake, she said softly. What if my father never forgives me, Danny? What will become of me then?

He wiped the tears from her cheeks. "You're not making a mistake by following your heart. God will not give you this opportunity to reconcile with your father just to have you fail miserably. And, if it is