tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20126717405040066362024-03-13T07:34:19.011+05:30THE J V BLOGThe official Jayesh Vira Blog .Jayesh Virahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09375210361612483397noreply@blogger.comBlogger55125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2012671740504006636.post-50442026968135629152023-11-20T10:40:00.003+05:302023-11-23T20:00:10.732+05:30The wonder blunder!<div>Have I blundered,</div><div>I once wondered.</div><div>Opportunities? Potentials? Goals?</div><div>All drained down the rabbit holes?</div><div><br></div><div>It was about one and eight, approximately my age.</div><div>Nervous, naive, doubting if I should turn to the next page.</div><div><br></div><div>Maybe someone else will do it better,</div><div>For I was still left with a taste bitter.</div><div><br></div><div>So i took a back seat.</div><div>Lets see others and learn from their wit.</div><div><br></div><div>I sat back once, and then once more and yet once more,</div><div>Hmmmm..... Lets try again, I should do better at chance number four!</div><div><br></div><div>And so I tried.</div><div>Willing to risk getting fried.</div><div>And again I blundered!</div><div>O! How did this happen, I wondered.</div><div><br></div><div>I was aged, about two and two there,</div><div>Thus, very little about outcomes did I care.</div><div><br></div><div>Better than the last time,</div><div>a mentor patted my back,</div><div>Continue, you'll eventually do fine!</div><div>He said, to that nervous rack.</div><div><br></div><div>And with his wisdom I proceed.</div><div>Understanding that a rose comes with its thorn.</div><div>The mantra if you want to survive or succeed,</div><div>Is that You must take the bull by its horn.</div><div><br></div><div>Many a times, tossed around</div><div>Yet landing on safer ground.</div><div><br></div><div>Thank you sir for teaching me to welcome my blunders,</div><div>For they are truly, the world's real wonders!</div>Jayesh Virahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09375210361612483397noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2012671740504006636.post-30817248630640751812023-08-16T09:24:00.003+05:302023-08-16T10:23:21.756+05:30Mere Naam ki Chai!<p><span style="font-family: Quicksand; font-size: medium;"> Doomscrolling on Insta has become a part and parcel of my
life. I spend the larger part of my day telling patients to reduce their screen
times, and then scroll a good 1 GB of insta after dinner and before bed. Before
you jump to any conclusions, let me declare unequivocally that I am anything
but a hypocrite. In my defence, my consumption of insta content is part of my
“research” to help me keep up with the latest social media trends. As I happen
to interact with a lot of GenZ and millenials and I need to make a connection
with them, ensure our “vibes” match, I have to keep abreast socially as well.
That is why I doomscroll insta. Thus, you see, it isn’t what it looks like, and
I am a not duplicitous person.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Quicksand; font-size: medium;">One particular reel that caught my attention was cartoons
dancing to a Bhojpuri song called “chai piyenge, hum to chai piyenge”. Now,
that is an emotion I strongly feel and relate to as well. I may come back from
death if someone offers me a cup of chai. Secondly, I have always been called a
cartoon, my mother used to do it when I was in school (and still does), Sakina
and Seema and Dhanashree did it when I was in college(and still do), Savni and
Komal did it when I was in KEM (and still do), Krishna did it when I was in
Delhi doing my postgraduation(obvio.....duh!), and many more continue to do it
in hushed tones. </span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Quicksand; font-size: medium;">Jab tak Suraj
Chaand rahega,<o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Quicksand; font-size: medium;">Cartoon mera
dusara naam rahega!<o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Quicksand; font-size: medium;">Till date, I haven’t yet posted a reel on insta which shows
me celebrating how vibrating and reverberating my belly fat is. So this song
was the ideal candidate for me to make a reel debut and try to see if I can
make it to BigBoss next season. Saying so, I started brewing myself a cup of
“Poore India me World Famous Jayesh ki Chai adrakh maarke, paani kam doodh jyaada”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The thought that I could write a blog on
chai also took roots.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Quicksand; font-size: medium;">Let me introduce you to Sakina, Seema and Dhanashree. We met
in the year 2006 in Ruia, 11 standard, C division, science stream. In junior
college at Ruia, the divisions were made based on what we had opted for as our
second language. So, people who opted for Hindi as their second language were
in “C and D” divisions. Our small group of friends solidified courtesy this
stratification system. And, with Hindi as a second language, came our Hindi
teacher as well.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Quicksand; font-size: medium;">Our Hindi teacher, a pentagenerian on the verge of
retirement. An old schooler who wore a neat safari, spoke in chaste North
Indian Hindi, was as passionate about teaching his subject as was strict and
nontolerant about indiscipline in his class. Very difficult for teenagers who’d
broken out from school and entered college and wanted to do masti. (In Mumbai,
school ended at 10<sup>th</sup> and 11<sup>TH</sup> & 12<sup>th</sup> were
pursued in designated Junior Colleges.) Attendance was not free. He would mark
you absent if you didn’t answer the roll call in the first go. Mentally absent,
physically present was also marked absent. Luckily, Ruia had a strong Mumbai
middle class culture and bright students converged there with a common goal to
move ahead in life. More substance, less style.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Quicksand; font-size: medium;">He had a rule, that you had to carry your textbook to class.
Anyone without a text book would be shown the way out. “Aap canteen jaao, aur
chai peyo.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Quicksand; font-size: medium;">And then would start a volley of “But Sir..... Sorry Sir....
I forgot......”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Quicksand; font-size: medium;">He wouldn’t have any of it. “Aap bhule nahi ho, aap laaye
nahi ho, kyunki aap lana nahi chahte the!” he would say (not verbatim)</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Quicksand; font-size: medium;">“Aap canteen jaiye. Unko bolna maine bheja hai. Mere naam ki
chai pee lijiye.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Quicksand; font-size: medium;">And, with this rule he was impartial, even the most favourite
of his students were ceremoniously sent to canteen to sip on “Mere naam ki
chai.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Quicksand; font-size: medium;">The onus of responsibility lies on you. In many interactions
that I’ve had with many non-genuine people over the years, this analogy has
come to mind. “O! I forgot” ..... can be anything...... a shared task in a team
situation where you’ve done your bit, and the other person hasn’t.......an
unexplained delay in completing paper works......... forwarding files........ a
phone call you’ve been waiting for....... or in any other format. <i>“Aap bhule
nahi ho, aap laaye nahi ho, kyunki aap lana nahi chahte the!” </i>helps save
you from investing a lot of your time and energy in the wrong places.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Quicksand; font-size: medium;">It has been more than 15 years since. As one moved in life,
one found oneself having forgotten (unintentionally) to carry that hindi
textbook to that hindi classroom (metaphorically speaking). And the <i>masterji
</i>in this classroom is even more ruthless in sending you to the canteen.
You’d often want to say, “But Sir...... Sorry Sir....... I forgot.......”, <i>masterji
</i>aint givvin ya no second chances!!!</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Quicksand; font-size: medium;">So, when someone tells me “Mere naam ki Chai peelo”, I do it
and carry my Hindi textbook religiously to the classroom for the next class.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal">But it is also in this canteen when sipping kisi aur k naam ki chai, that I have met people to whom I can say, "Hello friends, Mai chai pee raha hu. Pappe kha lo".</p>Jayesh Virahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09375210361612483397noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2012671740504006636.post-4555961623693641532023-06-18T02:46:00.001+05:302023-06-18T02:46:46.363+05:30Pawwry Time!!<p><span style="font-family: Oswald; font-size: medium;"> “She’s a pawwry animal” I told my friend in the course of
our conversation as she unabashedly shamelessly kept prodding me about matters
that are defined as “my personal business” or still better “none of hers”.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Oswald; font-size: medium;">My dear buddy - the one who has no sense of boundaries just ‘cause
she’s been my friend for over 16 years - the erstwhile queen-bee of party
animals quipped, “O, it’s just a phase!”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Oswald; font-size: medium;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She once partied so
hard, she hadn’t realised she’d fractured her foot. It was I, who noticed her
swollen foot a week later, got her a <span style="color: #2b00fe;">Roentgenogram</span> (Google this), reduced the
fracture and plastered her leg. I had told her it pains a lot, so I was
extremely proud of my bone-setting skills and for a moment starting fancying a
career in Orthopaedics, when she didn’t even utter an “Uff”. My dream was shattered
just a few moments later when I boasted to her that other patients have
screamed their lungs out earlier, but now I’m very skilled that she hadn’t felt
any pain and she replied, “O it was painful like hell. I just didn’t shout
because I thought you’ll laugh.” </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Oswald; font-size: medium;">Now that’s the friendship that lasts 16 years!! </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: Oswald; font-size: medium;"><span style="color: #2b00fe;">#SharedExperiences. </span><o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: Oswald; font-size: medium;">Jo dost kamina nahi, wo dost sachha dost nahi.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"><i> </i>P.S.: In retrospect,
no I wouldn’t have ‘not laughed’.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Oswald; font-size: medium;">“Well then, we have a phase difference” I retorted in my nonchalant-high
IQ – I’m a Doctor, but I haven’t forgotten my physics - pun laden - scientifically
accurate sarcasm and cut my friend’s soul into two with the accuracy of a gamma
knife incision. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Oswald; font-size: medium;"><i><span style="color: #2b00fe;">#FrontalLobectomy </span></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Oswald; font-size: medium;">(Click <span style="color: #2b00fe;">here</span> to Google(<i>verb</i>)
Phase Difference and Frontal Lobectomy, but since you’re reading it on a smart
phone, why don’t you ask Siri or Alexa to do it anyway).</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Oswald; font-size: medium;">“We all have our phases” she said contemplatively. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Oswald; font-size: medium;">(Not sure if she isn’t high. She usually isn’t this philosophical;
au contrare she’s quite a superficial type of person to be frank. It’s Saturday
night and in my defence one can’t quite figure it out if you are texting people
25000 kilometers away.)</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Oswald; font-size: medium;">Blogging in the early 20’s was easier (i.e. my 20s, not the
20s of the Y2K millennium. Duh! Lest you be thinking isn’t this only 2023- aren’t
these the early 20s – what’s this guy talking about?) Ignorance was bliss. Life
was majorly a binary affair. Everything seemed wrong, and I knew what was
right. The eyes did not see what the mind did not know. Then, over the years
Delhi happened, then Coimbatore and Krishnankovil and back to Mumbai, and in
the process the mind uncovered a great deal of mysteries, a myriad of events, a
few personal experiences, a few from those of closer ones and many more just by
being a mute spectator to all the chaos that unfolded with all the seemingly
unrelated people around you. “O poor thing” that you felt for someone else, and
the very next day it is you who were “the poor thing.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Oswald; font-size: medium;">The mind now knows much more, so the eyes now see that much
more.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Oswald; font-size: medium;">There’s no binary now, there’s only layers – deeper and
deeper, infinite layers. And that makes it difficult to write. How many
thoughts can one pen down about a single moment or an idea without sounding
lost or confused or worse still, contradictory? While I could churn out an
essay in a couple of hours earlier, it takes me months and years to finish an
article now.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Oswald; font-size: medium;">“Cut the umbilical cord” one of my professors used to
insist. No, not in the delivery room, he meant it in the abstract sense of the
word. Over time, I did it, rather it happened. It was the most liberating event to ever happen. That
is, however, just one half of the story. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Oswald; font-size: medium;">Once one graduates into an independent existence, starts the
real journey of re-establishing that cord. Every paradise that’s lost has to be
regained. And then there are new cords which need to be forged along the way.
Some just happen so effortlessly, that you don’t know when found your
clan...... You lean on some, some lean on you and the relay continues. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Oswald; font-size: medium;">“<i><span style="color: red;">Ye Mumbai hai, idhar Time ka matlab hai paisa</span>”</i> (movie
buffs identify this movie starring John Abraham and Nana Patekar). This was the
attitude with which I had moved out of the city I called my home for 25 years. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Oswald; font-size: medium;"><span style="color: #fcff01;"> <span style="background-color: #2b00fe;">“I want to be 20
again”</span></span><span style="background-color: #2b00fe;"> </span>I was cribbing to another fellow human recently. At first, I thought I
was getting overwhelmed by the complexities that I was seeing myself becoming
aware of and wanted to revert to the easier binary phase of life. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Oswald; font-size: medium;">But my friend has pointed out “O, it’s just a phase.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Oswald; font-size: medium;">True, and that phase has passed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I want to be 20 again because it probably was
very easy to make “cords” then. Why? Probably because I had the time. We
bartered time, not money. The friendships, the connections, all that have
lasted over geographical distances, have flourished because they were nurtured
with an investment of time. We are all starved for time now. And so it becomes
all the more important to ration time and invest it wisely, on oneself most importantly. At a stage where
work takes priority, one has to spare time for life! </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Oswald; font-size: medium;">The role of a career
is to facilitate the progression of our lives, while one faces a situation where
the career turns one to autophage on one’s life! We’re offsetting milestones, because
you guessed it right, we can’t ration out the time for them!</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Oswald; font-size: medium;">Ever since I’ve returned to Mumbai the fallacy of “Time is
money” philosophy has been laying itself bare. “Time is time” is what my learning has been. Let's not place two swords in the same scabbard.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Oswald; font-size: medium;">I know you haven’t Googled or asked Siri or Alexa to spell out for you any of the things I had asked you to at the beginning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, I’ll just explain what phase difference
is – </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Oswald; font-size: medium;"><i><span style="color: red;">“A PHASE DIFFERENCE IS THE DIFFERENCE IN THE PHASE ANGLE OF
TWO WAVES” </span> </i>😛😛</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Oswald; font-size: medium;">Well then<span style="background-color: #ffe599;">, <span style="color: #800180;">what’s a harmonic?</span></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Oswald; font-size: medium;">So kids, what have we discussed today? </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Oswald; font-size: medium;">Phase Difference, Harmonics and Umbilical cord. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Oswald; font-size: medium;">Sounds like a good science class.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Oswald; font-size: medium;">And here’s a better thought experiment to end with – </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: red; font-family: Oswald; font-size: medium;">I think I misspelt something? Is it<b> cord</b> or<b> chord</b>? </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-family: Oswald; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Oswald; font-size: medium;">Etymologically, the
word chord is derived from cord.</span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Oswald; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">The irony that life
presents is that </span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">until you don’t strike a chord, </span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">you won’t establish a cord.</span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br /></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Oswald; font-size: medium;">(the floor is now
open to discussion)</span></p>Jayesh Virahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09375210361612483397noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2012671740504006636.post-76967260122641236012021-10-25T00:15:00.001+05:302021-10-25T00:15:23.127+05:30Reverend Father Google<p> How would you know that I have done my schooling from a
convent school? Well, for one I’ve asked a rhetorical question, so that is hint
enough(<i>Samazdaar ko ishaara kaafi hai</i>). Two, you can search me on
facebook and see my about info and melody khaao aur khud jaan jao. But high
chances are that you are reading this article by clicking the link that I’ve
posted on FB, so, that’s that. Three, you’re enchanted by my neat cursive handwriting
(a close friend with whom I’ll be catching up in the very near future, prefers
to call it <i>curly-curly</i> handwriting instead. She also calls food <i>nom-nom</i>). My professor was. And he immediately figured
out that I had a convent education, but also supplemented his observation with
the wisdom, that public opinion of me being a qualified professional of the
modern medicine system (i.e. an Allopathic doctor) would be averse as patients
would be able to easily decipher my prescriptions. So, now-a-days I have
restricted myself to only give prescriptions in numericals. (Go figure out what
a plus 10 Dioptre sphere over minus 5.5 Dioptre cylinder at 135 degrees means)</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Anyway, going back to school time memories (which right now
stand exactly half a lifetime ago for me). School days are formative years and
I developed my well-rounded personality with an equally well-rounded
snowman-like bodyform in school and have maintained it over the years by
actively adopting a lifestyle of sedentary work and physical inactivity coupled
with a specially curated high carbohydrate and fat diet. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">A part of English Composition curriculum in school was
letter writing. ‘Write a letter to a
friend describing your holidays’. (Well, technically at that age, all the
friends that I had were living within a couple of buildings’ radius. They knew
what I had done in my vacation. Why would I write them a letter?) Then the
teacher would dictate a letter describing some lovely vacation I had in
Manali.( The description made me envious, because I didn’t go for that lovely
vacation in Manali and if I had to actually send that letter, it would make me
friend envious even more). I guess, recent trend in schools may have shifted to
“write a FB post to make the world envious of the picture perfect holiday you
had and also upload a thousand photos with it.” But, I have also come to the
understanding that the world has long moved past FB to Insta, so I guess the
exercise now would be #describe #your #instaholidays in #hastags.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Then there used to be the exercise of write a <s>lie </s>leave
letter to Principal (that’s one proforma that one really needs to master from a
tender age) and other such formal letters. So, the usual letter writing books
we had, started letters with ‘Respected Principal Mr. XYZ’. But, the letter
dictated to convent kids start with ‘Reverend Father XYZ’. (That usually caused
confusion during the earlier school years with us thinking “that’s not my
father”, “my father is not the Principal”, “Yay! My father is the Principal”,
“Shit! My father is the PRINCIPAL” variable from case to case.)</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Fast forward to my days as a solo fellow in a heavy retina
department, younglings wanting to rid themselves of Ben Franklin’s invention
kept me busy (especially on Saturday evenings) as I searched every nook and
crany of their Ora serratae right upto the insertion of the second cranial nerve
to the location where it pierced the sclera of their eyes and became one with
the inner lining of the eye, for all the 360 degrees and for both eyes, with
the zeal of Indiana Jones searching for lost treasures. Ophthalmology is a
subject very few doctors know much about. “What do you do?” A MBBS batchmate
recently asked me. “I shine bright light into peoples’ eyes and scold them if
they blink”, I replied. As per a recent international survey, less than 1% of
all qualified doctors globally know how to use an Indirect Ophthalmoscope.
(Well, why do I quote this statistic? Because it gives me the chance to brag
that I’ve tamed this monster to high level of expertise). </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">So, these insta-hastager younglings (I earlier used to call
people over 30 as uncle and aunties, but ever since I’ve transitioned onto the
toddler side of 30 last year, I’ve stopped using that terminology. I now
despise those not yet 30 and derogate them as younglings), don’t read any
hardcopies of any books anymore. Whichever fancy school/college they attend, the
smartphone with all its apps is their constant companion.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">So, this one Saturday, yet another youngling walked into the
consultation chamber wanting to utilise the services of Indiana Jayesh. True to
my nature, I took my archeological excavation tools and began digging deep to
unearth the secrets that lie within the confines of his eyes. Lo and behold! What a discovery! I detected a
segment of his retina detaching. Timely discovery indeed! Advised him to
undergo a prophylactic laser procedure to halt the detachment from progressing
further.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">As has been the bane of every doctor in my generation, no
one takes our word of advice anymore.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“I want to talk to my father first” he said. I would’ve been
happier if he had said that he would like to consult another eye doctor (unless
his father was an eye doctor that I was unaware of).</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“OK!” I said.”But the condition is an emergency.”</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Here or anywhere else, you better get the laser done ASAP”
I added. (Everyone takes second opinions. He was just being thoughtful and not
hurting my feelings by telling me that he wanted to leave me to go to another, but
I was just breaking ice and addressing the elephant in the room.)</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">About 15 minutes later, he came back willing to undergo the
procedure. His father had consented, I thought. The procedure lasted about 20
minutes after which I explained him the precautions and danger signs and the
follow-up routine.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Actually doctor” he said hesitantly, “I had not gone to
call to my father that time. I Googled. And I read all that came up. It also
said that it is an emergency.”</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">15 years of my painstaking training being held hostage to a
Google search!</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">But for whatever it was worth, an eye had been saved at the
end of the day. Earlier people trusted doctors in good faith. In my career
people will trust me only in Google faith! Having come to this realisation, I
decided to pen down a letter in neat cursive expressing my heartfelt gratitude
to Google.</p>
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-IN; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Mangal; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-language: HI; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">But being the convent
educated kid I ended up addressing the letter to Reverend Father Google.</span>Jayesh Virahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09375210361612483397noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2012671740504006636.post-37373041736367173402021-09-05T23:01:00.000+05:302021-09-05T23:01:01.074+05:30The Heart that never wept!<p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i> The heart that never wept,</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>How peacefully at night it ever slept!</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i> </i></span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>No dream ever broken,</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>No opportunity ever taken,</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>O The heart that never wept,</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>How peacefully at night it ever slept!</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i> </i></span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>No shred of esteem it ever lost,</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>A winner it was at all cost,</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>And every time it felt such joy,</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>O boy! O boy! O boy!</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>The heart that never wept,</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>How peacefully at night it ever slept!</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i> </i></span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>And so went on the saga, eons turned to ages,</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>Until one storm it found itself surrounded by wreckages,</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>O The heart that never wept,</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>How peacefully at night it ever slept!</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i> </i></span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>Ripped off all accolades,</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>All medals and trophies it ever won,</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>One punch received such,</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>It lost its Midas’ touch.</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>The heart that never wept,</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>How peacefully at night it ever slept!</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>O! The heart that never wept,</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>How peacefully at night it ever slept!</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i> </i></span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>All castles in the air had fallen,</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>All the steel and iron had molten,</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>Reduced to lesser than ashes,</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>It only sighed in suppressed hushes,</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>The heart that never wept,</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>How peacefully at night it ever slept!</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i> </i></span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>Reduced now to bones bare,</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>Forget clothes, not even an inch of skin to spare,</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>As it tried to figure it had landed where,</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>O goodness, what a living nightmare,</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>The heart that never wept,</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>How peacefully at night it ever slept!</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i> </i></span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>Wasn’t there a time when wishing for more was a norm?</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>To take on the bull by its horn.</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>But now it was afraid of the shark, and even the snail,</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>Was this it, on its coffin hammered the final nail?</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>O The heart that never wept!</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>How peacefully at night it ever slept!</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i> </i></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>The waves rose deadly,</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>It searched around sadly,</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>Alas! It saw no shore,</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>Neither a boat, not even an ore!</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>O The heart that never wept,</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>How peacefully at night it ever slept!</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i> </i></span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>The situation was tough, the weather was rough,</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>Sadly The heart wasn’t seasoned enough,</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>No direction, no mission,</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>‘Stay afloat!’ it had a divine vision!</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>O The heart that never wept,</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>How peacefully at night it ever slept!</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i> </i></span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>Like a duck it began to paddle, not swim, just paddle,</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>Unloaded from itself all the baggage, all the saddle,</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>Deja Vu! And once again it felt such joy,</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>O boy! O boy! O boy!</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>The heart that never wept,</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>How peacefully at night it ever slept!</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i> </i></span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>‘Paddle! Paddle!’ Let it be labelled a clown,</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>If it ever drown,</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>For it would still be victory</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>If it drowned of fatigue and not of a defeated jittery!</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i> </i></span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>‘Paddle! Paddle!’ Now it is thankful, it faced this session,</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>For it taught a great lesson,</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>A lesson to not budge,</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>For it realised, it was its own judge.</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>O The heart that never wept,</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>How peacefully at night it ever slept!</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i> </i></span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>‘Paddle! Paddle!’ And now it pondered,</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>Over the past its thoughts wildly wandered,</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>In this new found glory as it basked,</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>But one question begged to be asked,</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>When it was the heart that never wept,</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>How peacefully at night it ever slept?</i></span></p>Jayesh Virahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09375210361612483397noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2012671740504006636.post-21712850079238632512021-04-04T21:48:00.001+05:302021-04-04T21:52:30.569+05:30Just Like Old Times.....<p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> On Sat, 6<sup>th</sup> March 2021, I took the 2<sup>nd</sup>
dose of CoviShield. A day after the first dose, I did end up having some fever
and chills. Well, after the second, the story was just the same, but the
reaction a little stronger, i.e. fever and chills at around 14 hours compared
to 36 hours last time, a stronger headache, a bit more of the general weakness
and luckily, a Sunday to follow, to rest and recover. Symbolically, this may
just be the beginning to the end of one of the most uncertain times of life my
generation has faced. But times have always been uncertain in terms of the
present and the future - it is only when one looks behind and connects the dots
that just about any “pattern of certainty” ever comes up, if at all, i.e.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">So, the last “uncertain phase” that I had was no longer than
2 years ago. Still remember like it was yesterday, the December of 2018.
Komal’s wedding to attend, a thesis to submit and a race against time. Will I
be able to attend a dear friend’s wedding? – well, provisional to the status of
my thesis completion (Post that, it was –Will my thesis get accepted? Then,
will I clear my theory.....what about practicals....... so on and so forth it
goes on. One just being a stepping stone to another). </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">31<sup>st</sup> December, the last day to submit thesis and
a few days before that, a close friend’s wedding to attend. One of the rules
that I had set for myself during my residency years was to try and not to miss
any friend’s wedding. Because time was an entity to be rationed, I had my
priorities set. {Still missed on attending 3 very close weddings..... that’s 3
too many :( for this lifetime....}</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Anyway, since the chances of a last minute cancellation
loomed large, I preferred to book a Rajdhani for my to and fro between Dilli
and Mumbai over a flight simply because, one cancellation charges were feasibly
acceptable and two, because cancellation charges were feasibly acceptable. (A
“two” and fro journey). Third, because time had to be utilised wisely, 22 hours
at a stretch in a Rajdhani compartment would allow one the mental peace to
finish up a good amount of thesis writing, compared to the 8 hours - of
travelling to the airport, security check, boarding a flight, check out and
then reaching home – that would be rendered non productive, times 2.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">A day before departure, I figured out that with my thesis
discussion approved by my guides, I just had to finish up some proof editing,
so the trip was on!! Hurrah! After a year in Coimbatore, I have sort of a faded
memory of the “Dilli ki sardi”, but just remind myself that there’s a song
about it – “tadpaaye tarsaaye re’, saari raat jagaye re’......Dilli ki sardi”.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">I love trains, (that’s point number 4 of why Rajdhani
>> Flights), second only to Sheldon Cooper when it comes to being a rail
enthusiast. If the one of the functions of travelling is to learn life lessons,
then a journey in the Indian Railways is a university certificate course.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Usually, I always reach the jugjug gaadi station a whole
hour in advance to the departure (despite Indian railways following Indian
Standard time, ‘cause I just love trains and the colourful chaos at the station).
But in the Dilli ki sardi, peaking (or troughing, if you are a stickler for
linguistic accuracy) at 4 deg C (Single digit), where even five layers of
clothes can’t keep you warm for more than 3 minutes, I tried to play it short.
So, with my train from New Delhi scheduled for departure at 10:50 pm, at 9:30
pm I started searching for Ola/Uber (around 50 minutes the drive from East of
Kailash to Paharganj). Still sitting at home, 2 drivers had already declined,
and the time was 9:40. So, I thought it better to go down and try and latch onto
an auto. Maybe the cost haggling will provide some much needed warmth in this
spine chilling, mind numbing climate.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Now, there’s a word for things that are different but sound
alike. I don’t recollect it now, maybe it is called alliteration (I hate to
google stuff that I don’t know about. If I google, I’m sure the result will
eventually be that I am having some type of brain cancer. So, just in case,
there’s a masters in Eng-leash literature reading this one, please un-leash
your knowledge and let me know). Just as I was accumulating enough guts to head
out and try and catch an auto, before I catch the cold, freeze and join the
undead army of the Night King, I glanced at my ticket. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">So, the alliteration (or whatever it is called- a rose by
any other name would still be equally fragrant, a Jayesh by any other name
would still be equally funny) which foxed me was the almost monoamniotic twin
like similarity between fifteen and fifty. <b>Boarding 10:15pm, departure 10:20
pm</b>. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Now, I have small deep set eyes and they literally shut when
I just as much as smile, let alone grin. Friends have displayed their
astonishment over how I can even “see”, when I laugh (perhaps this led to the
scientific curiosity that eventually made me take up ophthalmology as a
career). But there are those marked occasions, such as the one mentioned above,
when my oculi, lauch themselves out of the confines of the bony walls of the
orbit of my facial skeleton and go into an orbit around whatever celestial
object is available. (Sometimes newspapers have reported them as unexpected
comet/UFO sightings). But this time, I had to hold them in place with both my
hands, because we just didn’t have the time for them to finish a parikrama of
the solar system.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">So, with a racing heart, and hoping against hope to find an
auto, while simultaneously frantically refreshing Ola/Uber, I decided to
activate plan B. {Plan B: Head back to the warm comfort of home, and log on to IRCTC
and cancel tickets and get a refund and message Komal - <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Sorry Yaaaar....... Can’t make it. Thesis not
complete. I know you’ll understand. Damn this residency. Will catch up when I
come back. Best Wishes. And I definitely am gonna take a treat from you. Much
Love.” – the following morning.}</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">But, the thing about hope is, the first three letters are
H-O-P. So, O boy!! Didn’t I hop into the only auto I saw driving that night (that
too in the opposite direction. Some stunt for someone with my level of
athleticism). He had only as much as made eye contact, and decelerated and
before he knew it, I was already in his passenger seat. He continued driving.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">“Bhaiyya, Nai Dilli station.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I said.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">He took a U turn. (Thank God! Cause, I wouldn’t have gotten
off if he had refused and knowing Delhi, that would have been the night I would
have gotten abducted. Some luck!)</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">“Kitna loge?” I asked.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">“Tin so”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">“Jyaada hai. Ola to dedhso me mil raha hai.” (Wishes are
horses beggars can ride. But, three years in Dilli, I had learnt the Dilli
ways)</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">“Nahi Bhaiyaa, tin so hi hoga.” He said. (I was expecting –
To fir Ola hi kar lo. But, luckily that didn’t come. Maybe the cold had chilled
out that Dilli youth’s <i>khaulta hua garam khoon</i>.)</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">“Dedh so theek hai.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">“Do so”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Finally 5 minutes later and 3 km away we agreed on 180. Plan
B scrapped. Trip On.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">With my eyes glued to Google maps, I was seeing the ETA as
25 minues. That’s 5 minues too many. At the Humayun’s tomb round about and no
traffic to be seen, I figured, we could make it in 10.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">“Bhaiyaaaa... Thoood.....aaaaa..... tejjjjjjjjj.... chaaa....laaaa...oooo”
I said, may teeth clammering.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">“Aur tej........ nah....iiiiiii hogaaaaaaa Bhaiiiiiyaaaaa”
he replied (his teeth clammering).</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">“Tej karo bhaiya.. 10 minute me train hai.” (Teeth still
clammering, but for the ease of reading, I’ve taken away the special effects.
All conversations hereforth to be visualised as with teeth clammering.)</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">“Nahi hoga. Ungliyaan bhi mahsus nahi ho rahi. Gaadi pe
control nahi hai.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">“Tej chalo bhaiyaa. Phizul ki baat mat karo. Gloves to pehna
hai na” (That’s some Dilli attitude there, eh!)</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">“Kya bhaiyaa aap........(some pleasantries in muffled voice
under his muffler)”.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">ETA 15 minutes........ Reactivate Plan B. Open WhatsApp.
Start typing the message. I could see myself reaching New Delhi and wave off
the Rajdhani a heart wrenching bye-bye.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Anyway, despite all efforts from my autowalla (just giving
him the benefit of doubt), I didn’t (i.e. <b>DID NOT</b>) reach on time. 5
minutes post departure time, is when I was the gates of NDLS. Then, I ran, only
to find that there was a queue for security check. Just in the frustration of
the moment, I did go ahead with the security check as well and reached platform
7. And Ola (as an expression of surprise, not the car service that had royally
ditched me.), Rajdhani’s still there on the station (Dilli’s winter comes with
Dilli’s fog and aint no train gonna remain unaffected). Run again. Hop into the
first bogey that I could get into. Quite a ‘Jab we met’ moment it was. </span></p>
<div style="border-bottom: 1.5pt solid windowtext; border-image: initial; border-left: none; border-right: none; border-top: none; padding: 0cm 0cm 1pt; text-align: left;">
<p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; padding: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Here’s rule one of travelling by
Indian Rail. Get into the first bogey you can get into and then ask, “Bhaiya
kaunsa coach hai?” and then find your way through. (Metaphorically speaking,
this is also applicable for taking important life decisions. Take one, and then
make your way through.) So, as I was searching for a Bhaiyya to ask him “Mai
kaha hu? (in a quintessential 80’s bollywood style)” I could feel a tremor indicating
that a change in the inertia of the train had been effected by an accelerating
force. (i.e.Train had started moving). Eventually, made it to my coach and
berth.</span></p>
</div>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">PART-II:</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Another aspect of travelling in Indian Rail, is that if you
are a single male, you’ll try and book for a side upper, but your seat will be
shuffled at will. Courtesy an SMS from IRCTC, my initially allotted berth and
coach had been changed after charting. As I settled into my compartment, I
glanced around. I was travelling with two families. One of 4 (granpa, granma,
mumma, her hyperactive almost ADHD 8 year old daughter) and another one of 4 (hubby,
his bibi and two sons, who seemed 3y and 5y).</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">It was a late departure, so all slept well. Next morning
after a cup of tea at Ajmer, I decided to start my thesis work. I didn’t have
the side upper, but an aisle side 3 rd seat. The kids had woken up. The boys
were quiet and well behaved, majorly fascinated and occupied by the scenes
outside the window. The young lady had gotten into her elements and started
singing and dancing and slapping her mumma. Every half an hour granma would say
to mumma, “Tumhara ladki haath se nikal raha hai. Isko control karo”. From
their accents I could figure out that they were probably South Indians settled
in Dilli since long and had adopted Hindi as their <i>lingua franca</i>.
Anyway, bearing through that din, I continued my thesis work, with some regular
distractions every time the young lady started singing and dancing, followed by
granma’s advise to mumma.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">The other young family was a delight. Never seen two young
boys being so well behaved for so long. Stark contrast between what was
happening to my left and my right. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">In between, the train halted at Surat. I called Prachi. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">“Kidhar hai? Where is?” bespoke me. “I’m in Surat.” </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">“O Great! I’m at home.” Prachi replied. “When are you
coming?”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">“OK. Now I am not in Surat. Hehe.” I replied as the train
started pulling out.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">“Matlab?” Prachi’s confused reply.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">“I’m in train re. Train’s left Surat now. Going back by
Rajdhani as well. Will call you then. Bye. Take care.” (On the return trip,
Prachi and Viral came to the station and we caught up for the 5 minutes that
the halt there was for. Also, they brought tasty khichia papad for me which I
savoured for quite a few days.)</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">As Mumbai dear neared, my interest in my thesis began to
vanish. So, the laptop was shut, all data backed up on a pendrive and google
drive and I gave in to the wave of excitement and anticipation that was rushing
through.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Dahanu came around 4pm ish. One of the boys’, the 3 year old
started becoming cranky. Too long a ride for a kid that age. That’s when my
attention was diverted to this family on the side berths to my left. Hubby and
bibi were talking. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Hubby to bibi: Marine drive chalna hai? (Ah Marine Drive!
Just the mention of it got me more interested in their conversation.)</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Just then the lady received a SMS. She read it and then
turned to her hubby and said.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">“O it’s a message from that guy. So there was this kid in my
class. He didn’t submit his assignments. I failed him. He’s messaged that he’s
qualified for merchant navy. He asked me to pass him, but I did not. Whatever
he was doing, he should have submitted his assignments. Huh.....” she said.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Bibi: Bhel puri khaate hai.....</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b>“Just like old times”</b> they whispered in perfect nostalgic
synchrony.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">This passing – failing business is a major ethical dilemma I
have seen some of my professors face. Each one has a different work around to
it. I recall one of my Professors in KEM, who believed that no resident should
be failed and they deserved to pass purely on the basis of the volume of work
they had done during their residencies. “If he is a good doctor, patients will
come to his clinic, otherwise they won’t.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Another one believed in the sanctity of the examination
process. One day can’t determine how good a candidate is, he agreed, it may be
his off day. But, that’s the process. He would give ample of opportunities for
a candidate to pass. “Exams are to assess how much they know, not what they do
not know. If they know enough, they deserve to pass. And if they don’t, they
don’t.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">A third one believed (arbitrarily) that passing percentage
can NOT be more than x% and so (100-x)% candidates would compulsorily fail,
irrespective. And there were some in betweeners who would pass a candidate if
she looked pretty, or someone was answering questions after reading books they
had authored and so on and so forth and vice-versa.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Anyway 2 years later, with a second wave of Corona splashing
the globe with the vengeance of a tsunami, so many a careers have been
devastated. What I still recall, though, is the tone of that “HUH”- one which
intended to dwarf a bona fide achievement of a hardworking candidate. One which
couldn’t accept that the other had succeeded, where she had rendered him a
failure. On ethical grounds, yes, I agree he should have been held back (or may
not have been also. Just don’t give him a gold medal.) But what was distressing
was the lack of neutrality, let alone empathy, in that response.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Time is a commodity we all ration. 2 years down the line, I
don’t know if submitting those assignments at the cost of a shot at a merchant
navy career would have stood him good. But it is everyone’s guess.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">New normal or not, the answer will be the same.............</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: helvetica;">“Just like old
times.”</span><o:p></o:p></b></p>Jayesh Virahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09375210361612483397noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2012671740504006636.post-39501473421458845312020-11-13T17:46:00.004+05:302020-11-13T17:46:32.437+05:30The Man From Zurich.<p> *Bhompu bhompu* my phone rang as it notified a new WhatsApp message. Now, what sort of a ringtone is that you'll think..... but I am well known, amongst other things, for choice of the legendariest ring tones.</p><p>'Meh, yet another happy Diwali forward' I thought, and the best part is that "the prosperous new year part" is going to be repeated again after another two months.</p><p>So I went on to give a finger print impression to unlock my phone. There goes all my education in the drain.... sirf angutha hi lagana tha to itni magajmaari kyu ki?</p><p>Open WhatsApp and there's a message from "Zurich Uncle". Who was this? I couldn't quite recollect. So I opened up the chat. The last exchange we had was way back in 2014 (that's when the JV debuted on WhatsApp)...... Actually no.... We never had a chat. Who was this Zurich Uncle????? "Think.... think"</p><p><br /></p><p>It had so happened, that Owais and I had once gone to catch a movie at Phoenix, in the latter half of our internship, probably once the entrances season was over. And afterwards, we had headed to a Mc D. It was evening time and the coronary artery choking food's outlet was jam packed with people. We had to wait around 10-15 minutes to grab a table. And that too we had achieved by jumping onto a seat vacated by the previous customer (and future heart failure patient) even before his gluteii had bilaterally vacaed the airspace over the seat. The spoils of his war with his physical wellbeing still lay bare on the table, uncleaned unkept. But, all we wanted was a seat at that time. (PG Seat > McD seat.... in that priority, but we contended with the McD). I held onto the table as Owais went to get the order. After sometime, an elderly gentleman came around with his platter of cholesterol and everything that's bad, and politely asked us, if he could join (There was a third chair vacant on our table and nowhere else). Since he seemed polish (in manners, not in nationality), we let him seat. </p><p><br /></p><p>Dressed in a kurta, or may be it was a Safari, he spoke in a Hindi, that was way too polite in its accent from Mumbai standards. "Are you from Lucknow?" I asked.</p><p><br /></p><p>"No I am from Zurich." He said.</p><p>"Ah! Its in Germany no?"</p><p>"No! Its in Switzerland."</p><p>"I come to Bambai often for business. Usually I stay in Taj or other hotels. This is the first time I'm staying in Palladium. Must say, it is a nice hotel, The rooms are quite spacious. And its very cheap. Only 12500 per day."</p><p>Back then, I had no intension of taking up ophthalmology as a career. Still, after listening to that last sentence, I think I developed a transient self sealing spontaneous high flow caroticocavernous fistula..... (for the lay and non-ophthalmic folk: my eyes popped out)</p><p>"What do you do? My monthly stipend is 6500" I asked in dismay. (also with an element of a childish greed that a child who sees another child play with a fancy toy and then nags his parents ki <i>mujhe bhi chahiye</i>).</p><p><br /></p><p>"I am an investment banker."</p><p>"What is that?" I asked. There's a joke that final year MBBS students crack that we felt shortchanged when we realised that ortho-pedics and pediatrics are two different subjects! I just didn't want to look uninformed so I replied, "O! OK!".</p><p>"Come to me when you have your millions." Saying so he handed me his visiting card.</p><p>That Zurich uncle had messaged me today. I was expecting "Happy Diwali", but what I got was</p><p>"<i>Imtehaan ho gayi intezaar ki!"</i></p><p><i><br /></i></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i>*****Wish you all a very very happy Diwali and a prosperous New Year *****</i></p>Jayesh Virahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09375210361612483397noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2012671740504006636.post-26160405143004781512020-08-31T01:13:00.000+05:302020-08-31T01:54:13.807+05:30Eureka! Oops, not yet!<p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Six months into the pandemic, life has become restricted to
an arc of 100 meters. Home to hospital and back with the odd weekly outing to buy
some fruits and vegetables. Long conversations with friends (luckily, of which
I have many), phone calls, WhatsApp calls, video calls (nah, not many, cause I’m
perennially running short of internet and being the Scrooge McDuck that I am,
getting a bigger net pack is out of question) have not only helped alleviate
boredom but to some certainty definitely helped to soothe frayed nerves.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">A discussion on restarting the blog has become part of my
daily conversations. But, call it a writer’s block or sheer lack of enthusiasm
or the weight of uncertainty that has preoccupied the thought space, the inertia is a bit too much to overcome. But, when one
is in the medical profession, there’s no shortage to stories to narrate. Thus, somewhere, it’s the narration that has taken the back seat.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Seeing patients is a roller coaster ride. Sometimes, you see
a rare condition and feel that “Wow!” factor. The feeling is all the more
rewarding when you’re the one to make the primary diagnosis. Academically rewarding always and emotionally draining sometimes. But, then you move on to the next patient
and first is relegated a memory archive, only to be retrieved when you sit
discussing with a colleague, or preparing a presentation for a clinical meet or
when it just bursts into your conscious and you wake up in the middle of the
night frantically reading up your textbook and searching PubMed for the most
recent studies and researches and treatment modalities and prognostication
indices etc. etc. And, yes, you won’t fall asleep until you haven’t read to your
heart’s content. Heart? Or brain? Or both? Depends on what drives you, emotion
or academics? Or both?</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><o:p> </o:p>Whatever be your USP, IQ or EQ, needs to be well balanced.
Otherwise, the OPD is the right setting for you to become a classical display of
a textbook nutcase of bipolar disorder. Happy and over the moon when you see a
patient responding to therapy, and sad and soggy when he isn’t or you can’t
offer anything.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">“A doctor needs to be coated. You should be able to see, but
not get affected. So, it must be a glass coating, not an asbestos one” said a
teacher once. Second year MBBS students that we were then, nodded our heads in
affirmative not catching a single meaning of the spoken words. “Kya mast bola
na Sir ne.....” is all that we said at the end of the clinic. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">A couple of years ago, during a Saturday charity OPD that I
was attending, a postop lady in her 60s walked in accompanied with a male in
his early 40s. Seeing her discharge papers, she had come for review a week
earlier. In a heavy OPD, any unnecessary patient does give that feeling of
having wasted your precious time. But now that she had come, and I had examined her,
what was the point of feeling anything? </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">So, regaining my calm I said, “You’ve come a week earlier. Continue
these eyedrops and come again next Saturday.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">“Dekha.... bola tha maine.....” she said in a scolding tone
looking at her attender – the man in his 40s. Then turning to me she continued
in the same chastising tone, “Doctorsaab..... ye hamara ladka.....” and got off
the examination chair and limped out of the OPD, still taking support of that
man in his 40s, now blushing with embarrassment.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">The next patient who walked in had an advanced eye problem. She had been advised a monthly review, but she had come a good leisurely six
months later. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">‘Super Laid back’ I had already made up an opinion. ‘She’ll say I had
gone to the village’ my thoughts continued and I placed a wager with myself.
And now, in just a second I was about to be proven right and get the rush of that
Eureka! moment. So, in a single breath I asked, “Kaha chale gaye the? Ek mahine
baad bulaya tha?”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">“Teen ladke hai hamare. Par koi dekhne ko taiyaar nahi. Aaj
ye hamari padosi aa rahi thi, to uske saath aa gayi” she replied. Eureka!
indeed. What to do now? “Hmmm.....” I nodded. “Ye do test karane hai, dekhkar fir
dawai badli karenge. Tab tak poorani chalate raho.” I said as I jotted down my
advice and prescription on her OPD sheet in under 30 seconds and moved on to
the next patient.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Many a thousand patients later, these two still come back to
memory time and again, the scene feeling fresh out of the oven. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Almost a decade later, I’m still trying to figure out if I’ve
gotten the glass coating. And if I have, how do I prevent it from becoming
asbestos? Where does the sweet spot of titration lie? </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Still awaiting my Eureka! moment.</span></p>Jayesh Virahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09375210361612483397noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2012671740504006636.post-28959082601926133082020-05-25T12:41:00.002+05:302020-05-25T12:48:54.435+05:30A Year with Mother: The evolution of a Mumma’s Boy.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">(Note: This article was first drafted in mid 2016. And well, it then remained in
the drafts. Residency or some other thing took me away from writing. With the
lockdown, once during a conversation with a friend, we got discussing a blog I
used to once write. I lamented how I’ve lost the zeal to write, but we decided
at least there must be an attempt to reignite an old hobby. It’s Lockdown 4.0,
and I still haven’t come up with anything original of substance to write about,
but then this draft caught my eye. So, a lot of this is from 2016, and some
from 2020. Four years on, I’m baffled how drastic drift my ethos has taken. And
thus my attempt to chart an evolution</span>.)</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“<b>You’re a total Mumma’s boy!</b>” exclaimed Pallavi as I cracked
yet one more of my famous<i> (or infamous, nonetheless, as they say, no fame is
bad fame)</i> standup type jokes. There was no audience <i>(cause three’s a crowd but
there were just the two of us)</i>, but I’m sure if there was one, I would have
been mobbed <i>(for autographs and selfies, of course)</i>. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Pallavi is a simple creature, pure of heart and not much
wit. She gets fascinated by simple things. Like the other day, when I showed her
my new phone <span style="color: #cc0000;"><i>(edit 2020: Still using the same phone)</i></span>, her eyes lit up with
excitement – “<b>Isme to front facing flash hai!!</b>” (<i><span style="color: #cc0000;">edit 2020: At that time there
was no Oppo, Vivo and mine was perhaps one of the first phones [yes it is
Chinese, but whose phone isn’t] to have a front facing flash. Tech Savvy, ain’t
I?)</span></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">So, a post call 1<sup>st</sup> year resident (i.e. Pallavi)
realising and emphasising my mumma’s boy status meant that the cat was out of
the box. And that has got me thinking. How do I quantify this trait? On a scale
of 1 to 10, where do I stand?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">For one, all through the five and half years of MBBS <i>(internship
included. Do i smell someone one fire?)</i> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve
been going home for lunch, being served fresh hot fluffy rotis. Well, if your
house is 5 minutes walking distance from College, who wouldn’t go home. In my
defence, during my 12<sup>th</sup> I used to carry two tiffins – one for
breakfast and other for lunch. So, that definitely doesn’t count as a mumma’s
boy attribute. Yet, I do concur with the observation. But scientific thinking
mandates that conclusions have to be backed by plausible evidence <i><span style="color: #cc0000;">(edit 2020:
WHO/ICMR are you reading this?)</span></i> Hmmmm.........</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">1<sup>st</sup> August 2008 I joined the famed GSMC & KEMH,
and thus began a romance, one which has only enriched me. Here, I’ve got the opportunity
to bloom to a full potential, in both my academics and extracurriculars. Well,
this is my second home, I intend to be here for much longer and many more
innings <span style="color: #cc0000;"><i>(edit 2020: I won’t. And I’m much grateful for that. I now have many
more places I call home viz. Delhi, Coimbatore..... and counting?)</i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">But, what had happened over the past 5.5 years is that the
home where I live had just become a boarding and lodging facilty. Go home,
sleep. Eat food. Back to Gymkhana for all those youthful activities <i><span style="color: #cc0000;">(edit 2020:
Gymkhana is love.)</span></i> Hopping from one activity to another, one semester to
another and one exam to another has been so engrossing that one hasn’t realised
that time has flown away. I joined MBBS as a 17 year old minor and by now I
have voted in 3 elections, have a political ideology <i><span style="color: #cc0000;">(edit 2020: That has
watered down. Now, they are all just clowns in different colours.)</span></i> I have a degree,
I deal with life and death <i><span style="color: #cc0000;">(edit 2020: no longer. Hope to continue to make life
livable..... the quality of life aspect that I now deal with....... that’s
content for another blog)</span></i>, and hope to save many more lives in the future by
calculated heroisms that only medicine can offer one to do.<i><span style="color: #cc0000;">(edit 2020: Meh!)</span></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="color: #cc0000;"><br /></span></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="color: #cc0000;"><br /></span></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">So many things have changed over these years, but there has been a steady
backbone through all the trials and tribulations, like a shadow which never
leaves – the constant called mother. Yes, there have been complaints that I
have had towards her and she towards me and both have amicably communicated to
each other. But, there has been a comfort in her presence and much of what I have
been able to do, has been because of this emotional cushion that she has
afforded.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">In stark contrast to the <b>ever absent from home</b> 5.5 years of
MBBS, this past year of preparing for NEET has been spent within the confines
of home. I’ve talked more with mom this year than perhaps the last 6 years put
together. She has stories to tell and I have more. And now dwelling on that innocuous
observation that Pallavi, my dissection partner (<i>not quite partner, she was
afraid to dissect, so Owais and I did all the work. No complains, we loved
dissecting. It was a mutual arrangement. Just one complain – she never went on
a dieting fad or I would have gladly eaten all her cadburys as well)</i>,made
brings me to the realisation that I have now come to see the white hair that
she (mother, of course) has, much more than 6 years ago. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Those fine wrinkles on her face, they
weren’t there the last I recollect. So, while as much as I may claim that she’s
been a constant, she probably has been largely relegated to being a shadow.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Have you seen your shadow carefully? Does it have a face?
Does it have features? No. It only has a silhout. And you never bother to
notice that because it’s just so taken for granted. People talk to mirrors when
they are bored and not necessarily psychiatrically ill <i><span style="color: #cc0000;">(edit 2020: most would’ve
by now, courtesy the lockdown!)</span></i>, but no one talks to the shadow.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">But this, year has given me an opportunity to see a face in that shadow. Indian boys are so attached to their mothers <i><span style="color: #cc0000;">(edit 2020: this one
still holds)</span></i>, and so am I. But the shadow with a face, makes me realize that
the tables are turning. Sooner than later, as these wrinkles deepen and more of
the hair turns white, a change of roles is on the card. I will be the care taker, her constant, her backbone. This happens to all and sultry. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">But, what will be different? Well, for her I’ll always be
the one with a face, the one she reads and deciphers- emotions that I have been
unaware that I was experiencing – she always has. To her, I’ll never be a
shadow. And this day forth, she’s definitely not a shadow anymore.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><u><b>Post Edit 2020:</b></u></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><u><b><br /></b></u></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Long story short, in a couple of months I moved to Delhi for
my residency. Over the 3 years in Delhi, I’ve learnt to cook, keep my books (financially),
manage my groceries and shop for my clothes and wash them and iron them too.
Mother has been visiting often, her trips ranging from 1 week to 1 month.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">October 2019, I completed my postgraduation and moved back
home in early November. Then, for two months I was home, till I moved to
Coimbatore in early Jan 2020 for my fellowship. In the two months, while mother
insisted on cooking breakfast, I realised that my food tasted better. So, from
taking culinary instructions over the phone in the Nov of 2016, here I was
dictating terms in the Nov of 2019. Minor tussle. Everyone’s happy now, cause
my food tastes better. As mother says, there’s something in the hands of boys
who cook. Yeah!!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Come Jan 2020, mother made a trip to Coimbatore. Something
here was feeling new, the house wasn’t feeling like home. But, ever since she’s
been here, it has been. In our temples we do pranpratisthan for the diety’s
idol. Well, her visit was kind of a pranpratisthan for the house I live in now. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">After that 1 week visit was over, we had planned a longer one in March. This
time we were to go around to Ooty and all the scenic hill stations around CBE.
Just a few days before her departure from Mumbai, the frenzy around Corona was
building up. Being at that stage in my career where most of my batchmates have
joined as senior residents or lecturers or junior consultants, there was a
flood of information about the landfall that this pandemic was going to make –
raw data, the one that was not yet analysed or manipulated or disguised under
official figures. Real on ground situation!! And that was still March, before
the official lockdown.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">So, in all sense of safety and security, it was mutually
decided to postpone the trip to a safer time, say October, tentatively. How have the last two months been? Extremely stressful? Yes and no.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I am happy, I don’t get to go home. I can’t. I’m a thousand
miles away. Also, I see patients. Wouldn’t have wanted to go home. Win-win.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">But, there’s also always a moment every day, that I am
scared and worried. Every time, I hear of some so and so case. Some batchmate
testing positive. Of the shortage of hospital beds. Of being unable to be of
any use, despite all the resources and contacts at my disposal, because,
frankly, they themselves are stretched beyond imagination. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Ever since we’ve resumed OPDs since early May, I’ve been
using a N95 mask daily. It is a torture. It drains your energy. It starves you of
oxygen. And the headaches are like you’ve never experienced before. Then I
speak to some friend. And I feel happy that at least I’m not wearing a full PPE
in this sweltering May heat. At least, I am spared the dehydration and electrolyte
imbalance.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">A few days back, I was speaking to Mom about how bad the
situation in Mumbai has become, and just as a fleeting thought I said "<b>May be, I
should’ve let you come over.</b>” Then again, I remembered speaking to my friend, “<b>At
least you are lucky you’re getting a PPE!"</b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Can’t have both heads and tails, can we?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Going back to 2016, I had written </span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Sooner than later, as
these wrinkles deepen and more of the hair turns white, a change of roles is on
the card. I will be the care taker.”</span></blockquote>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Come 2020, am I? Not
being around, is probably the best care that I can offer. We all are at nature’s mercy. I hope </span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">the answer is in affirmative, but only time can tell.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">What makes a hero standout? He makes a sacrifice. And
recollect, in 2016 I had a dream to undertake “calculated heroisms”. Well, at
this point, to that end, we both are each others heros and rest is for fate to
decide.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“<b>Have you seen these guys?</b>” one of my professors had once
said. “<b>30 year olds, still having their parents standing outside their exam
halls. When will they ever cut the umbilical cord?”</b> It was probably in context
of DM entrances or MD final exams, I don’t recollect clearly, and he surely was
unhappy that full grown adults were incapable of fending for themselves.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">To Sir, I reply. Yes, I have cut the umbilical cord.
Independent I am, a bird that has left his nest and gets his own worm. And that
partly, is also the reason why mother dear isn’t as worried. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I've tried to make her tech
savvy. Pushed her out of the house as much as I could. In Delhi, I bought her a
metro card and told her to go around sight seeing on her own, whilst I was in
the hospital. She would then come home and tell me about easier routes around
Delhi.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">So mush so that, when she came to CBE, I told her that I’ll
come to the station to pick her up, she actually sounded surprised. And that’s
the reason why I am not as worried. I know, she’ll manage. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The
umbilical cord has been cut from both the ends. We now stand to each other as mirrors, not as shadows.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Coming to whether I’m still a mumma’s boy? </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><i>Well, more than
ever!</i> On a scale of 1-10 where do I stand? at 11.</b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">(P.S: That March ticket which she told me she’d cancelled –
well she’d actually rescheduled it for April. This she told me in April when IRCTC
messaged her that they’re not running the train. We both had a healthy laugh
about it. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">It’s just not us, there are so many amongst us that yearn for our
loved ones. My heart aches when I think of the tragedy that the poor migrants
are facing, left high and dry. Were I to be a daily wager, I would also have taken
this thousand mile journey for sure. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">But, we should be lucky to be privileged
that we are – me for being able to write this, and you for being able to read.)</span></div>
<br /></div>
Jayesh Virahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09375210361612483397noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2012671740504006636.post-20313834676942764082016-10-12T00:54:00.000+05:302016-10-12T00:54:08.125+05:30Settling in Delhi.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Why Delhi?” Owais messaged. His astonishment palpable.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Don’t become a Delhi boy or I’ll have to beat you up.”
Savni’s warning was as clear as it gets.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A sizeably many more well-wishers sent their mixed greetings,
and concerns and tips on surviving a city that we, the Mumbaikars, the people
of the maximum city, the creatures who know no sleep, who spend 40% of our
cumulative lifetime travelling from home to workplace and back, have grown up
to think as of being one of ravages, fed both by our sense of superiority in
being the more civilised of the races and media’s constant pandering to that
thought.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Blah blah blah. More blah blah, blah blah. Hence, Delhi.” I
replied.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Why Delhi?” Owais persevered with his CID style
interrogation. Now, I was lost for words. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Savni has been kinder and more compassionate though, I must
add. She just calls twice a week to put me in line.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But the bullet had left the pistol and so there was no looking back.
Till so far, Delhi has been kind enough. The climate here has just turned supremely
pleasant – hot and superhumid – just the way we like it back in the Gateway to
India, where the philosophical bath time thoughts revolve around ‘why do we
bath? So that even as we’re drying yourself, we get drenched in sweat again.
Karma is such a pet canine of the female gender. ‘ </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In a couple of days I managed to rent out a lavish palatial
estate to establish my retreat, found palatable, nutritious and hygienic (??
!! OK I’m making this up, but mom also reads my blogs na!) food which taste’s
just as good as home food (paneer power).</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now, there are some people who blabber about things like “We
Eat to Live”!! I don’t know which mad dog has bitten them. As far as I am
concerned,” I Live to Eat.” And good food I’ve sniffed out (I repeat, my mother
reads this blog). So when my seniors ask,” Have you settled?” I give an
emphatic “Yay!!!” (P.S.: There is, in fact one senior who’s kind enough to spoon
feed us, but that’s mostly food for the mind, but food nonetheless.) Spending
almost 12 hours (i.e. all the daylight hours) in the hospital, I return to my
royal abode, sink into my Jacuzzi (wishes are horses that beggars can ride, I’m
just bathing in a Jacuzzi at the end of an exhausting day) before laying asleep
in my king size bed.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“So have you settled?” another senior asked loving. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Yes Sir!” I grinned from ear to ear. But something felt
uneasy. So much concern was pouring in my way from home and otherwise, I wondered if was I
missing something. Was I so lost in happiness that I was overlooking something
obvious? Was I in a misery that I was unaware of? If I had flower at my
disposal I would have plucked off its petals,” I am well settled...... No I’m
not...... I am well settled...... No I’m not.......” But, alas, this was not to
be my luxury.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A few days later, when my Mercedes had to be sent to the
garage for maintenance purposes (sochne ka paisa nahi lagta. Insaan ki soch badi honi chahiye), I had to hop
into an e-rickshaw, a Delhi commoner’s horse ride. The traffic was no worse
than Mumbai’s. Across me were seated a gentleman and a fair lady in her
twenties, who probably had delayed neurodevelopmental milestones. The gentleman
was kind and tender and polite and probably the girl’s caretaker.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“O look! Wa-all-me-ate!” She exclaimed in her monosyllabic
speech as the ride passed across the store. “Wa-all-pe-per-s! Ti-il-es an-d Fl-oo-ri-ngs!”
She read the tagline out loud.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">'Awww!!!' I thought out loud. The gentleman was unmoved. Some
stone-hearted fellow. It isn’t unusual for caregivers of special kids to
get frustrated. But, they courageously persevere nonetheless, for which I
respect them a lot. There are human boundaries, and they brave them on a daily
basis.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Mu-naa-faa- Ma-rt.” She started again. “Aap-ki ba-ch-at ka des-ti-ne-sh-n. Babu, here we can get good discounts na!”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Babu! <b>She said Babu</b>!!!! She wasn’t no retard! I had been
hijacked! </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And then, the misery began. I had to bear through her
reading aloud all the shop names along with their taglines and a monologue on
their meanings. My schooldays flashed up out of the blue. ‘<i>Sandarbhasahit spashtikaran kara’, </i>used to be a question
in which we were supposed to build up on a couplet from a poem and explain its
meaning. Though what we ended up doing always was just writing down the poetry
into plain text. Just a couple of days ago, I had ventured out after dark (like
Akbar used to) against percolated wisdom, to get to know the locality, its
lanes and by-lanes and markets and shops. Had I know that I’d be stuck in this
ride in heavy traffic; I wouldn’t have risked my safety, my belongings and my life.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"If someone comes to mug you, just give them everything" is all that Savni comes up with anyway.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Medical practice is very different in a government setup
than it is in a private set up. Just that morning, I had asked a patient’s
relative to sign on the consent form and pointed it out where Relative’s name,
Relative’s sign etc. were written. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“<b>I can read</b>.” He had snapped at me, not taking kindly to my
patronising instructions.<i> Karma</i>, my pet female canine had turned up wagging her
tail to bite me that very evening. I apologise dear Sir, if you are reading this, I now know how irritating
patronisation can sound. “I can read.” I too wanted to snap out. But, alas, this
was not to be my luxury. The caregiver Babu had well developed biceps whose giant
compressive strength I didn’t want to ask a demo of.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Babu look......” she continued. “The light is red, but it
is blinking. So the signal is kharab na!!” I couldn’t take it anymore. Looking
away at a right angle for such a long time was giving me a neck strain. So, I
looked straight into the caretaker Babu’s eyes.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Wait baby/kuchiku/sonu/monu whatever....., I’ll go and find
out. You don’t leave the rickshaw. Aapki chappal maili ho jaayegi na... Aap
thak jaaoge na.... Fir mujhehi aapko utha kar ghar le jaana padega na. Bhaisab,
aap jara saath chalenge...” </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In the year 2006, when I wasn’t even a week old in Ruia, I
was chatting with Rishabh while being seated on the first bench, under the then
Hindi teacher Mr. Trigunayat’s nose. That was the first time I and Rishabh had
met each other. Mr. Trigunayat didn’t appreciate people socialising in his
lectures. He used to ask his disobedient pupils to ‘<i>canteen jaao aur mere naam
se chai pi aao.</i>’</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Uthiye” he had said. I was about to stand up, but Rishabh
stood up instead. “Kya batein chal rahi hai?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">‘Sir, iske pass textbook nahi hai, is liye ye mujhe pooch
raha tha ki pichali baar aapne kya padhaya tha.’ I would’ve answered. I made
eye contact with Rishabh as he arose taking one for the team, which was yet to
be forged. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Sir, mere pass textbook nahi hai, is liye mai isse pooch
raha tha ki pichali baar aapne kya padhaya tha.” he answered. We hit it off
that very moment and have been friends till date, sharing some great memories.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In the year 2016, I tried to telepathicunate with the
caretaker Babu. But, alas, this was not to be my luxury. Too bad Babu, we
could’ve made great friends.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I sustained my gaze for a few more moments. Babu was unmoved,by me as much as he was by his pestering baby/kuchiku/sono/monu/whatever. No
pain, no angst, no embarrassment. Just pure, divine, serenity (Or maybe not).
Seers roam about the world in search of the divine. Divinity comes from misery
they say. Must be true.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The human mind is such a sadist! It finds satisfaction in
others’ agony. I had been perplexed, if I was settled or not. I still am. But,
I am relieved, that if it turns out that I am not, my suffering is nothing
compared to that of some of my fellow human beings having to put up with so
much misery and face so much judgement in their quest for the elusive divine.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">More power to you bro (Your soul and spirit, I mean. Your biceps have a
lot of power. Any more and that tendon will rupture). Thank you, if you are
reading this.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(P.S.S: Please get the miss to read this out loud in her monosyllable speech as well. Mere aatma ko badi thand milegi.)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
Jayesh Virahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09375210361612483397noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2012671740504006636.post-85031375698779571802016-08-27T16:37:00.003+05:302016-08-27T16:41:22.345+05:30The Dilemma<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Victoria was a young, confident lady of all but 21 years of age. Just over 6 months ago, she had graduated from being Ms. Victoria to Dr. Victoria. Life had changed. The comfort and the carefree attitude which the student phase had afforded was over. She was joyous, nervous and enthusiastic as she continued through her internship. She had learnt a few new skills, could now establish IV access, suture cuts and lacerations, ligate bleeding vessels and set broken bones and of course, prescribe the multivitamins to the odd patient who asked for one.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Yet, while she thought that she had seen it all, she actually hadn't. Even while working in those emergency shifts, she didn't <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="d8a42e8d-475b-4a1e-9a1e-d6d571dec97d" id="ed536a71-300f-4c2b-a6f2-081762b68f26">realise</gs> that she still was in a controlled environment. Which patient she saw was filtered, and even though she felt otherwise, per <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="43ada7c6-d88e-4c08-851f-4a9fc3de639e" id="4945837b-c4e5-49ec-897d-0defacaa1377">se</gs>, she wasn't yet responsible for anything. The only major worry which clogged her mind was that of the upcoming entrances for her postgraduate studies which were no more than 3 months away, and how little time she was managing to squeeze out for studies.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Her current rotation was away from her parent institute. A "Peripheral" posting, in the medical lingo. It was no small hospital by any means, just not as big as her <i><gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="efee34b3-5155-4541-a20d-d19307d20e05" id="8d77a93b-cd03-425f-82e3-15cef7d91881">mater</gs></i>. Smaller place, fewer people, more work, a little more responsibility. She liked that...... <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="620970e7-d0a9-4357-8480-988cf27a6df8" id="1ab26b6c-e036-4a0b-ba6d-73e7cba67895">just</gs> that, if only had it been after the exam she could have put in a little bit more heart into it.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">It was her first night shift in the ICU at the new <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="5eff4bed-cc23-4513-8b74-48762e12dfee" id="eb36c40c-cd75-4a88-b4ec-1806e7bdfd33">centre</gs>. She would get to learn a lot of new skills and procedures here, because the short staffing afforded her that luxury. Probably, resuscitate a gasping patient or two. In her parent institute, one, the number of patients were so high that after finishing her <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="3a82a79f-8af2-493f-8caa-d92e08d4b040" id="3ca742a2-bf0a-4d15-b444-225c13c03525">alloted</gs> menial jobs there wouldn't be any time left to learn new things and two, there were despite the rampant short staffing, sufficient number of seniors for the difficult things.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">At around 8 pm she began her shift. The very first patient she <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="0f7720f9-238c-4c8e-8089-c1d80f0c077b" id="fe1b8cb7-382e-486b-81df-600470087d5f">attended</gs> to <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="0f7720f9-238c-4c8e-8089-c1d80f0c077b" id="20670daf-4f28-48cb-bb51-6885889e099e">had</gs> been in coma <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="0f7720f9-238c-4c8e-8089-c1d80f0c077b" id="1bddcaf6-4c74-4d2c-9289-5343e76929a6">since</gs> 3 days. She performed het mandatory blood collections. Over the next hour or so he started regaining consciousness. His illiterate relatives thought that her hands were blessed and so they told her repeatedly. "<i>Aapka haath lag gaya na is liye accha hua ye!! <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="b5abdfd3-256c-4d88-92a2-9a275ea67883" id="c63819fb-c2fa-4d21-999a-bd20236de3fa">Nahi</gs> to 3 din <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="b5abdfd3-256c-4d88-92a2-9a275ea67883" id="98161fa9-7ad5-4fff-8715-cb7e4838b281">aankh</gs> bhi nahi <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="b5abdfd3-256c-4d88-92a2-9a275ea67883" id="438ad214-ef04-40a6-8659-ba575c8832b0">kholta</gs> <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="b5abdfd3-256c-4d88-92a2-9a275ea67883" id="740d47c5-3230-469a-978e-06b702fb4b0d">tha</gs>!!</i>" She knew, that miracles don't happen. She also knew that she had technically done nothing, the medications were doing their job. But, to possess a "miracle hand" is every doctor's dream. We know the realities, yet we dream. And here, just six months into her career, she was being <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="8471b60b-baef-4dcf-a285-c8d2df786b18" id="854e6664-f2a8-4ada-bcec-0b86ce6fd1f4">cannonised</gs>. How could she let that go! She just smiled, ear to ear. All her worries, anxieties, fatigue, just evaporating into the thin air.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">The night went along uneventful, she worked with a skip in her steps. At about midnight, a patient <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="e7e40a4e-a1a0-48a7-b090-fe33f198e844" id="a8bbfc4c-324f-4433-b213-aaa316ce630b">trollied</gs> in, referred from the casualty. A middle aged woman, surrounded by her two kids, a daughter of about 15 yrs and a boy of about 10 and her husband. She looked into the casualty paper. The woman had consumed rat poison.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Different people have different reactions to grief and emergencies. The boy was unaware of what was happening, the girl was clearly distressed yet palpably numb. The husband had lost his head, he was inconsolable. He was shouting, blaming himself for being a bad human, rebuking her for not thinking about her children, cursing the creator for destroying his happy family in a split second. The woman, still conscious, didn't look anyone in the eye, didn't answer any of his accusations, just lay there accepting her fate. In between, she would roll her eyes around, glance at her children, but not a drop of tear rolled down anyone's cheek.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">There was an eerie vibe to the whole situation that Dr. Victoria had never faced before. She was intrigued by the happenings and felt so sad for the kids. Somewhere she even blamed the mother for being careless.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">"<i>Array he <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="229660bb-2b1b-4cd8-9c7b-48fdec4fcb0a" id="f7dee3a2-3a4d-434f-9099-eeb95ed83208">kaay</gs> <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="229660bb-2b1b-4cd8-9c7b-48fdec4fcb0a" id="f07d4c26-810b-4749-9d9d-e642257706ac">kelaaaa</gs><gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="229660bb-2b1b-4cd8-9c7b-48fdec4fcb0a" id="0c395d70-f070-433a-981e-1a4e123f1d13">...</gs><gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="229660bb-2b1b-4cd8-9c7b-48fdec4fcb0a" id="5addb709-d76a-4489-bc5c-9b7f9d82d5e5">aaa</gs>... <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="1de5c757-406d-49d7-a64a-9f8702687e07" id="dcd2eb72-d396-4163-be6e-6b99b888af8c">tu</gs>!!!" </i>The husband started yelling again. There were other patients in the ICU who required quiet. Dr. Victoria wanted to <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="df423a44-cd69-423b-a0ec-fabf13eab687" id="f05685fb-d888-4779-ba93-4233849c3ccf">sympathise</gs> with the man, but was treating all the patients.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">"Please go out and do not make so much noise." she said, trying to sound kind and firm simultaneously, having not managed to calm the storm within herself.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">"Array doctor!!!! We were having food. Nicely enjoying our dinner and watching TV. Look at my kids, doctor. She just got up, doctor. Went to the cupboard and removed this bottle of rat poison. And then she told me I will drink it. I thought she <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="dc0c5001-dfc4-4311-839e-f844bef66c6d" id="fba6d437-513c-4d5e-967a-be5297d2f570">is fooling</gs>..... So I said, <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="0292436d-59cf-49f2-81fb-68f1f100e1ce" id="2d1d6d89-5604-41cf-a7a6-35bcdd7e8984">OK go</gs> ahead.......... Doctor, I did not know she was actually going to drink it. And then, before I could do <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="cdfa33f1-32e8-481c-80a1-7253c8b6cbaf" id="262b61eb-1f26-43a8-9413-6b59dea53d3e">anyting</gs>, she had the whole bottle..... Doctor..... Look at my kids, doctor"</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><i>"Go <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="546b6899-54fa-43d2-8fa3-4201824a9503" id="44ef16d3-a1bc-4d95-89cf-0ecaf44bf05e">out</gs>". </i>The daughter replied. Still numb, still shaken, but her voice firm. Dr. Victoria was puzzled. Here was a 40 year old behaving irrationally. And here was a 15 year old displaying a level of maturity and composure that she, despite being a qualified medical <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="d242a439-5355-47bc-8dc4-d2cfbb4ddc55" id="94b7219d-b51f-4227-aa82-2fc4fbe5a6a9">practioner</gs> would not have managed, had she been in her position.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">"<i>Go OUT." </i>The daughter repeated.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">The man stayed out of the ICU for the rest of the night while the daughter stayed by the bedside.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">"What's her prognosis?" Dr. Victoria asked the registrar. This wasn't just an academic query, but she had become emotionally invested in her patient. She had committed a mistake, which no doctor should ever make, yet they make, irrespective of whether they are newbies fresh out of the eggs or whether they have lost all the hair on their heads. " She's come pretty early, so we should be able to save her <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="0a000a5e-78b6-45e8-88b6-4018963075b5" id="c913d2a0-8b0f-403f-8c50-6927d1028214">na</gs>?" She added.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">"This one is a very strong OPC preparation. <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="f2d73abd-c556-474b-adb7-8a0c0e79f4ff" id="e7f08fd9-7213-4860-9e76-5937fb0e3c7c">Lot</gs> of patients come here after consuming this. <i><gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="eabe8860-4749-45a4-8851-f23a3d44e107" id="4bce9c1a-5d47-44ad-8de6-749ca7bc4c6b">Nahi</gs> <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="eabe8860-4749-45a4-8851-f23a3d44e107" id="6f28e215-6b15-4625-9909-5eee1afbfb2d">bachegi</gs>." </i>The registrar replied <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="eabe8860-4749-45a4-8851-f23a3d44e107" id="16b3712c-df54-4e26-8fa2-cf26aa49ec9a">unfazed</gs>. He was time hardened, with just the right amount of asbestos coating around him, to insulate himself from the heat of the moment and make proper decisions.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><i>"O!" </i>was all that Dr. Victoria could mutter.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">So many things had happened in the course of the night. From being the one with the miraculous healing hand, she was now forced to resign to her limitations. She saw as the police constable came, took the patient's statement and left. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">At 6 am she she began taking ECGs. When she reached the OPC patient and applied the cuff around her arm to measure her BP, the patient whispered, "<i>Mala <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="42e23ae4-35ff-4418-9939-b3eb32324832" id="b7c15d7d-5631-474a-a835-5d71549f974f">chhateet</gs> <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="42e23ae4-35ff-4418-9939-b3eb32324832" id="c8740c69-8202-4dc8-9a82-8c3f3b5d20ce">dukhtoy</gs>. (I have chest pain)." </i>She was having angina, so Dr. Victoria began to leave to inform her registrar. The woman continued, "<i>He beat me up. He beat me up a lot. He beat me all over my body. He punched me, he kicked me......." </i>the woman continued.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">"Do you want me to call the constable? Do you want to change your statement?" Dr. Victoria <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="073be206-c927-4b26-9783-dffda1f73cf3" id="a97e68b9-d144-4827-909a-62868812efb0">inuired</gs>.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">"<i>NO. I just wanted you to know." </i>She said, and turned her head away in sorrow.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">She only wanted her to know. Nothing more. Dr. Victoria was to be her secret keeper. But, the young doctor was shaken even more.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">What was she to do? Was she to inform the police by her own volition? But, the woman wouldn't change her statement. So what was to come out of it? Suppose if she still went ahead, she would manage to get the husband convicted? But that would take time. Courts move at their own pace. She has a dream to be a <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="8ad017da-9901-4e87-b74e-483cbc54c37d" id="ae20e910-6564-4192-ada2-5fa193368397">superspecialist</gs>. Would this one step puncture and detract her career? The woman definitely doesn't want her husband to be punished. She has reasons. Maybe the children. With the mother gone and the father in jail, who would take care of the children? But, then a crime has been committed. Isn't it her duty as a good citizen to make authorities aware. But again, the woman won't change her statement. Dr. Victoria had been rebuked once earlier as well to reign in her enthusiasm and not take on responsibilities which aren't her due. So what if the woman won't change her statement, she could always claim that she had received a dying declaration. But does a dying declaration hold up in courts in India? Being an intern, was she even allowed to take a dying declaration? She hurried to her bag, got out her intern's log book. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">It clearly stated: "The intern will not involve himself/herself in medicolegal cases."</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">But, was that what was legally sound, ethically sound as well? </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">It was nearing 7 am. Her shift was about to end. She was drained, physically, mentally and emotionally. Too much of a Roller'Coaster this night had been. She was 21 the previous day, but today she probably was feeling 50.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">She had read somewhere," When something is too good to be true, it probably isn't."</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">She had also read,"There is always more than meets the eye." </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Today, she had a live hands on experience.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">She glanced at the registrar. His face was dull and eyes soggy after the tiring night. Yet, he maintained his poise. His brain alert to any abnormality that crept up on the ECG monitor, or any discomfort that his patient developed, but still aloof!</span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">(</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>A work of fiction, with some inspiration from real life events.)</i></span></div>
</span></div>
</div>
Jayesh Virahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09375210361612483397noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2012671740504006636.post-90546595795767380452016-08-09T11:25:00.000+05:302016-08-09T11:25:28.597+05:30Daaktuur<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I am not very fond of you Surgery. But it's not your fault, I just like medicine more. I like eliciting a knee jerk more than I would like fixing a broken knee. But this post is not about surgery per <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="d5af475b-94ba-48e8-b49d-4b4b972a0660" id="ff7d862d-25c5-48b3-986f-45e02e3fd8b2">se</gs>, it's about a patient that I have recently come across in the ESR. Actually, his relative is what I am going to write about.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Abusive, violent, short tempered, drunk..... <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="3ef94a1e-0e66-476e-b957-94dc17344468" id="09eec603-19ab-488e-aba6-30ff77ead2f3">he</gs> isn't any of those. It's Saturday evening. (I always end up in units which have Saturday emergencies. No Sundays for me!! But, I also have my entrance classes on Saturday and Sunday, which I end up either missing inevitably or reaching them so dead tired and sleep deprived, I wonder if I should just ask for a refund. <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="555d1902-792b-4a03-8781-8ee95be17266" id="df20fe52-3301-458a-85f1-b594e70f58f0">Hmmmmm</gs>..... <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="b9922f06-8b80-4a7d-a587-351c230ef3ce" id="0c4c4167-3add-4f00-b8bb-613d4458d28f">no</gs> digressing, back to the topic.)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">So, it's Saturday evening. My engineering friends are probably out in bars and discotheques partying hard after having worked <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="ffbfcb71-37c7-4b75-8707-05ddd9c1d287" id="169de534-5a25-4c72-bc90-cbde87536877">harder</gs> through the week, probably gulping down shots of tequila till they can no longer stand on their own two feet. Well, why shouldn't they, they can afford. I am a teetotaller, but I know that one shot costs 1700 and taxes extra. 1700, is what an intern's stipend was two years ago. Then it increased, courtesy my seniors who went on a strike. But, it hasn't increased that much either, one can now probably afford 3 shots. And, here I am inserting IV lines, Folley's catheters, Ryle's tubes, and suturing drunkards who've fallen by the roadside and cracked their skulls open. All work, no study. Sorry, I digress.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">So, it's a Saturday evening. I've missed one more class. Today has a heavier than usual. Around 9.30 pm one more fellow wheels in. I ready my set of IV lines, one pink and one blue, to be chosen on the condition of his veins, the three way connector and saline flush and adhesive tape. 3 red vials for viral markers, two purples for blood grouping and cross matching and HbCBC. All is done at spinal level. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">His relative approached me. From his attire, he seems like a Koli (Fisherman). His eyes are red shot, not of liquor, but of exhaustion, a lot of which overflows on his face as well. I take a look at him. He is barefoot. After explaining to him where to take the blood samples and all other things that we require before admissions, he goes away and I get busy with other patients.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">At about 1.30 am the flow of patients has ebbed. The lecturer has taken his rounds of the <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="0bc36dc9-1c29-43ca-852e-0d54a4087314" id="5d4aba82-79c1-43f9-8e1b-4922f89675f7">esr</gs> and has gone to operate. The <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="ab24ce40-7a09-4a0e-9b52-e73f79e2f5c6" id="d787a630-fc99-4713-a78c-bbdd6107c532">houseman</gs> has fallen asleep on a stool (wooden), the exhaustion of 18 straight hours taking a toll. He won't sleep long, the next patient will come up in 10 min. His head fallen back weirdly, he'll surely have a sprain tomorrow morning. Somehow, he isn't falling off the table.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I too think of catching a 5 min power nap. I look around for any place where I can rest my head and where there isn't blood <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="74f6ab1d-8837-4215-b057-4f4221f9fa94" id="013575a3-7053-40a8-8ef3-d9342c8b7fc0">stain</gs> or some such infective secretion. My back has already started getting spasms. Or should I just solve a few <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="dcadcfb7-ee61-44b8-9bcf-a56358b64321" id="c5db582b-9774-448f-ac52-9cfa2e36d2c9">mcqs</gs>? The 3 <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="2f471fec-04b8-42e8-8c8c-b5a30beff335" id="2eb2a3a0-86f5-45e1-b39f-9e157b8fbfbd">mcqs</gs> that I'll manage in 5 min, may be the decider between me getting a seat or spending one more year preparing. I do not enjoy reservations either, so maybe I should go for the <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="bc657968-1417-40c8-b8ad-0791441f7821" id="f2b6764d-0a3c-4569-bfcf-69c45007da36">mcqs</gs>.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">"<i>Sir, uuu <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="5b72ad10-c7c7-4bb4-bd88-f286c0d91ba0" id="298bd4e1-b075-41e3-a251-ec988642be58">bluuud</gs> <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="5b72ad10-c7c7-4bb4-bd88-f286c0d91ba0" id="912adcb7-8ace-45c1-8949-d0941eaa0357">banka</gs> <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="5b72ad10-c7c7-4bb4-bd88-f286c0d91ba0" id="2c7698af-0a0d-4de1-81aa-51f914fe1be3">se</gs> <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="5b72ad10-c7c7-4bb4-bd88-f286c0d91ba0" id="fc238a7f-a9bc-4a69-bc80-adac3e5720b5">khun</gs> ka report <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="5b72ad10-c7c7-4bb4-bd88-f286c0d91ba0" id="fbda7e61-1342-4576-876b-0c0112a989be">aa</gs> <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="5b72ad10-c7c7-4bb4-bd88-f286c0d91ba0" id="1d76f4a2-5542-476d-b515-52d2abeda528">gaya</gs>.</i>" My thoughts are broken by the <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="5b72ad10-c7c7-4bb4-bd88-f286c0d91ba0" id="8d29f7c9-7a36-4e27-aaa1-9b32e8eba7ab">fisherfolk</gs>. I look at his blood group and tell him to attach the report in his file.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">He smiles back. Even though his smile is <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="3714bd22-e6ed-4f74-8d40-c1e3185749b6" id="326ee7d4-858f-4d9e-8dbb-2c5ca411899b">laboured</gs>, and his teeth stained, it is still full of warmth and friendliness.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">"Array <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="f2267031-d7ce-47df-9709-aa12c8adcc1b" id="5eae3610-5b63-4f13-99f5-44c2e268a308">suno</gs>!" I call out to him.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">"<i><gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="d7f8afa8-c6c5-4fa1-a055-da81148d199d" id="047fc143-b439-4651-8a94-743f28e744d1">Aise</gs> hospital <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="d7f8afa8-c6c5-4fa1-a055-da81148d199d" id="593d6949-e518-4b09-983e-c45c381250e5">me</gs> <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="d7f8afa8-c6c5-4fa1-a055-da81148d199d" id="0f15a4ca-0915-472b-9998-40d32d12f961">bina</gs> chappal <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="d7f8afa8-c6c5-4fa1-a055-da81148d199d" id="ba146513-d4a0-4f29-b737-90bc93be7a6f">ke</gs> mat <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="d7f8afa8-c6c5-4fa1-a055-da81148d199d" id="95b80f86-bbf1-4f6b-bc30-15b2ae0debde">ghoomo</gs>. Khoon vagaira neeche gira hua rehta hai. Needle, <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="5994fe71-3671-4cca-9efa-21c6450a6b4c" id="49946a73-eabb-4960-8731-f0b1e5ca8c1b">kaanch</gs> <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="5994fe71-3671-4cca-9efa-21c6450a6b4c" id="79304c3a-f416-49be-b390-b008678602b9">bhi</gs> niche rehta hai. Pair me lag <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="29492b7d-d2ba-4bd8-9d16-e1c99325dfb5" id="cd9627d0-78b8-48a2-a1d3-16ceccfe3deb">jaayega</gs>. <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="a6dba8b8-4168-4ed2-accc-33708958a98f" id="3e296947-d839-4a13-8d40-465a17ebde67">Bimar</gs> pad </i><i></i><i><gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="a6dba8b8-4168-4ed2-accc-33708958a98f" id="dbe2d4f1-8ed6-40d6-9764-21c4013507a3">jaaoge</gs></i>."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">He just smiled back again.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">"<i><gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="2ad8d454-eeba-481a-87d5-26df0a1b4ad4" id="9050848c-cbfb-43b6-aa11-02ecbb0c7bc1">Kidhar</gs> <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="2ad8d454-eeba-481a-87d5-26df0a1b4ad4" id="8104e8d4-bc59-45c7-939b-b84006daca9d">se</gs> aaye ho</i>?" I ask.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">He smiles even brighter, the exhaustion suddenly disappearing.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">"<i>Virar ke aage Arnala aata hai." </i></span><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I remember Arnala. When I was a kid we had once gone to celebrate <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="50fcb219-4b36-40c0-a434-018c59b80112" id="9ab21d17-5a6b-47dd-b091-c143b37078c3">holi</gs> at the Arnala beach. Back in those days it wasn't so famous and a lot of families only used to come there. We would board a train to Virar from Dadar. Then take a shuttle to <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="2bbb1744-40fc-4c40-9ce2-336eed9c5605" id="e6c8c32e-5cbc-4a2f-86df-cecf635699ab">Arnala</gs> and then there would be rickshaws to take us to the beach. About 2 hours fun packed journey.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">"<i>Haan. <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="4928d394-a816-44b6-8241-ca0c433ff7da" id="a67672ba-4934-4dd0-92a2-b2187a97913b">Mallom</gs> <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="4928d394-a816-44b6-8241-ca0c433ff7da" id="598d13cf-0ef1-4046-a29a-0db697fee9bf">hai</gs>." </i>I reply.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">"<i>Udhar Shivaji ka killa hai!"</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>"<gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="cf9b8266-5fd6-4597-905c-9b9be44aad55" id="319cd7a0-b7da-4f65-98eb-f67660bfefe9">Acchha</gs>! Ye nahi maloom tha mujhe. Mai to <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="714293a5-3f7d-4e6d-882c-40e056156195" id="b3d98927-5475-431a-829a-e5aaec084664">sirf</gs> beach <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="714293a5-3f7d-4e6d-882c-40e056156195" id="13b79f91-71da-4f8c-b10b-ac408478f31c">pe</gs> hi <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="714293a5-3f7d-4e6d-882c-40e056156195" id="5e0abb72-192d-4f2e-b78f-6629d43ed769">aaya</gs> <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="714293a5-3f7d-4e6d-882c-40e056156195" id="95b14f22-8d54-4af4-9cc0-b4d16244aa62">hu</gs>."</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>"Udhar se hi killa pe jaate hai. <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="283f21c7-4289-4e99-8306-67d6dd76dde6" id="9dabb625-7251-4e5b-882b-bfee7bc80f66">Wo</gs> <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="283f21c7-4289-4e99-8306-67d6dd76dde6" id="52b4bd46-a338-424a-be46-d5b14050f076">beach se</gs> ferry <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="283f21c7-4289-4e99-8306-67d6dd76dde6" id="352a880a-5352-4569-9154-dff0e922a75b">karke</gs> jaate hai. Killa pe jaane ka hai bolo. Le ke jaate hai. Do ferry hota hai din me. Ek sakali jaata hai aur ek sandyakali wapas aata hai."</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>"Algi baar gaya Arnala tab jata hu kille pe."</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>"Aaap aao hamare ghar pe. Taja taja macchli pakadte hai hum. <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="9c1ee5ac-c7f3-4a00-a78e-e457be97bf7f" id="47efe854-1b2b-4c19-b6d8-a37f7e00706e">Dega</gs> <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="9c1ee5ac-c7f3-4a00-a78e-e457be97bf7f" id="b58dcfa7-17c5-41ff-b5bf-1ec3c759ffb2">aapko</gs>."</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>"Array <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="d6068339-4220-431b-bef7-22c28d32a6cd" id="cda45eba-ed4d-4493-bfe1-a3249175be37">mai</gs> non-veg <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="d6068339-4220-431b-bef7-22c28d32a6cd" id="a27b6c51-721f-47ba-b0f2-3c33e65cdc95">nahi</gs> <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="d6068339-4220-431b-bef7-22c28d32a6cd" id="1a25901b-7a61-4041-ba93-2f676f47ec2b">khata</gs>."</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>"<gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="21091bbb-de5c-4e4f-8d3e-048fe368fae1" id="e1ddecf0-d8eb-41dc-88f7-df29d72a0a93">Koi</gs> <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="21091bbb-de5c-4e4f-8d3e-048fe368fae1" id="28d810bb-d32b-4502-b578-8065c55bb0c7">baat</gs> <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="21091bbb-de5c-4e4f-8d3e-048fe368fae1" id="fdbba6ad-6219-4879-96ff-86d456e5b8be">naahi</gs>. Hamara ghar k bahar choota bagicha bhi hai. <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="cb610d55-3e27-4d1d-b58f-77391c32a307" id="dbc216d1-7113-4254-8391-fd1e8bdfbb1e">Aao</gs> <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="cb610d55-3e27-4d1d-b58f-77391c32a307" id="007e01e3-eb3f-4b6b-8cb6-bdbc4585972a">tum</gs>. Taja shabji deta hai tumko."</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>"Lekin aapka ghar kaise milega mujhe?"</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>"<gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="deb30c77-e697-4dff-80aa-973bc7d08681" id="c656c829-c130-47d2-b2a2-33817bfadfd2">Wo</gs> kuch nahi. Aake kisko bhi poocho, 'DAAKTUUR' ka ghar kidhar hai. Koi bhi leke aayega. Hamara idhar daaktuur nahi hai. To fir koi bhi bimar padta to mai ich sab ko leke jaata illaz ko. <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="8be4193d-6126-43bd-b98e-a1a2ee5a2707" id="f117f3d0-f3ca-4ba7-9fa7-7a50c47800d7">Karke</gs> <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="8be4193d-6126-43bd-b98e-a1a2ee5a2707" id="f7d44103-405b-44b9-b54d-5759fdf88037">sab</gs> log mere <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="8be4193d-6126-43bd-b98e-a1a2ee5a2707" id="8f67ab6e-b864-4175-a2e0-0f7064097210">ko</gs> <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="8be4193d-6126-43bd-b98e-a1a2ee5a2707" id="f1d2671b-258c-41c2-972f-d4d669f713ac">ich</gs> <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="8be4193d-6126-43bd-b98e-a1a2ee5a2707" id="a0aec501-d206-4386-8f0b-9c985e323047">daaktuur</gs> <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="8be4193d-6126-43bd-b98e-a1a2ee5a2707" id="1587478a-f653-4e9b-a2ce-ccd827ce6400">bulate</gs>."</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">He grinned again from ear to ear.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">It's barely been 4 months since we've passed our final MBBS and taken the Hippocrates oath.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">"Do no harm" is supposed to be our motto. But some of my colleagues have brushed it aside already! I too feel sometimes that I should take a few liberties and <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="66623dcb-6faf-497d-a297-521b253f7232" id="e390a83c-e06e-483e-bfc3-bdc466558374">short cuts</gs> as well. Eventually, my future is going to be decided by my score in the exams and not by how well I have behaved with someone or how honestly and meticulously I have done my job.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">"We are interns. Nobody's life depends on us." Says one of them as he sometimes (which is now becoming <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="85260a4e-c154-4c32-8c9b-445a394d6d46" id="0fb7212a-6764-4908-bde7-1967aeaa794e">everytime</gs>) <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="85260a4e-c154-4c32-8c9b-445a394d6d46" id="25852789-2cd0-42fb-ac54-1968c7c2ee32">underfills</gs> samples in vials so that he can quickly finish his set of blood collections and rush away to the library. "Even if the lab sends sample inadequate, the <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="d6cbe1ff-336a-4996-93bc-c1f972e2d5c7" id="cf79fb5d-21a9-452d-b70e-3307c67a5dc9">houseman</gs> will send another sample in the evening to the <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="d6cbe1ff-336a-4996-93bc-c1f972e2d5c7" id="6b9dd1c1-6187-4722-9fab-fd4ecce527e8">elab</gs>. Nobody's life depends on you."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Now I have an existential dilemma, who is a doctor?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">One who's declared that nobody's life depends on <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="4ce1c6b0-cd19-4006-9433-1534f3055fbc" id="283e6db4-98ca-4aaa-b041-3df66d0b342e"><gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="4ce1c6b0-cd19-4006-9433-1534f3055fbc" id="c5a91837-416f-4267-8be6-242a17a5a8f5">him or</gs></gs> one who is the only source of hope to <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="4ce1c6b0-cd19-4006-9433-1534f3055fbc" id="316e1be6-8c7f-4e15-b784-6706eff9efb2"><gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="4ce1c6b0-cd19-4006-9433-1534f3055fbc" id="b49680fd-3a80-476d-8baa-dccf68f315ab">sick man</gs></gs> on a desolate islet?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Perhaps the latter isn't. He will only be a <i><gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="35287c5e-a127-4bff-bbf5-ad400ba1a902" id="48380c66-17e8-43a5-9113-f1469d74263b">daaktuur</gs> </i>at best.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">"<i>Wo mera godhali dekha tumne? <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="e28ebc1e-695b-4f65-95ff-c3990742821a" id="393be4cd-dcd3-4642-b918-4c9d6e5c2e58">Hara</gs> <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="e28ebc1e-695b-4f65-95ff-c3990742821a" id="5bb2aacf-4e84-41b7-999e-600e76c5c1b6">tha</gs>. Idhar rakh ke gaya tha tabhi. Mil nahi raha. Raat ko soneko laya tha.Leke gaya koi lagata hai. Aise hi sona padega abhi. <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="920157d9-5f8d-4ee7-a36e-921801e32dba" id="96c0d6a7-649b-46fb-abbc-ea763132d4cc">Dekho</gs> <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="920157d9-5f8d-4ee7-a36e-921801e32dba" id="226785b5-e6c3-48c7-aee8-983256719fe8">tumko</gs> <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="920157d9-5f8d-4ee7-a36e-921801e32dba" id="b5b4a410-3950-4534-ba0e-da8d9f5e5000">milega</gs> <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="920157d9-5f8d-4ee7-a36e-921801e32dba" id="7d474ebc-1524-4de4-9332-fcb14a36a16b">to</gs>. Idhar hi rakhke gaya tha mai. <gs class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="0e710e9d-abb7-4779-9fb6-f30206c3c2d8" id="94ab5772-3f64-4a81-a34e-f5825adf174c">Pccccchhhhhhh</gs>......"</i></span></div>
Jayesh Virahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09375210361612483397noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2012671740504006636.post-5725628757980554122014-08-25T13:01:00.003+05:302014-08-25T13:19:34.134+05:30Rural Postings for Doctors : Their resistance is illogical and futile.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
One of the reasons I voted for the BJP, other than of course the fact that Narendra Modi had caught my imagination (the fact that I used to be a Modi hater from 2002 to 2012 notwithstanding), was the ass-licking appeasement policies of the previous government which I felt were anti-doctors in addition to, of course, being anti national.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
My world view has evolved a great deal over the course of my 5 year journey in MBBS. From being a strong supporter of socialism (perhaps that's why I took up medicine in the first place), almost being a borderline communist sympathiser at times, to recently becoming a little right leaning. A part of this transition has been the realisation that the world we live in is not ideal, ideologies falter and collapse when personal benefits come in conflict, and that a logical argument can easily be distorted to shield a particular individual or group of individual's self interests and selfish intensions in the name of larger hardships of community; which, therefore, will always continue to persist and the gaps will always ever widen. Internship, of course, was the turning point, but the process may have begun earlier.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Facebook discussions now-a-days have gone from being one liner, pull your leg-blow my trumpet comments to literally large - Long answer monologues and discourses. This may partly be a sign of our individual maturity or we may probably have learnt to use the platform for appropriate and relevant matters with age.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
When the proposal for compulsory rural
postings came up last year, the Gymkhana organised a debate. I was a
part of the team that was "against". We were supporting not serving poor
people, not giving health to the diseased, running away from
responsibilities, not repaying the debt of the society. In short, being
selfish, immoral and arrogant and defending it too.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But, lecture hall debates end up in lecture halls and have no more importance.</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I had a end stage full blown AIDS patient in the ward. Sending his blood work would be a very frightening experience. I am not judging him or chastising him, but just the amount of precautions to be taken and the anxiety of an accidental prick would make it all the more difficult. But, it was managed. Accidents do not happen if one is careful.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Then one day there was someone who looked like a priest by the patient. I was happy to see him. Nothing consoles a patient more than a reading from a holy scripture when he knows that his time is running out. I was more happy, that his family members had accepted him, knowing full well the social stigma associated with his disease.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
As I continued with the blood collections I couldn't help but be astonished by his mutterings.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Shaitan is ke shareer se nikal jaa. Holy spirit kehta hai iske shareer se nikal jaa!" And these were the only 2 sentences he kept on repeating for all the ten minutes that I was by his bed side. I between the feeble man would try and say "Nikal Jaa!!"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I felt like telling him, that your CD 4 count is only 24. <i>Is baar to shaitan nahi nikalega, agli baar shaitani mat karna!</i> I don't judge him for an act in his past, but this is and should be unacceptable.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Was it an exorcism being performed in a hospital? I have seen discovery channel documentaries about such things being done, especially in case of rabies, trying to force feed water to a person who had lost the ability to drink. The discomfort then would, logically be extrapolated as resistance by the devil. But, in 2014?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
A few years ago I had seen a patient with herpes. He had taken medicine for a week and so would obviously be cured. But his sister took him to some Baba who swept a broom over his vesicles and then when they went away she proclaimed that the Baba had cured him. So much for our Acyclovir!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
A man would stand outside the KEM arthritis opd entrance with "Bhallo ka baal and Whale ki haddi". As patients would crawl out with their painful joints he would entice them, dupe them and tie a Bhalloo ka baal around their arm and a Whale ki Haddi around their throat. If only it was that easy, wouldn't all pharma companies market bear hair? All natural and no side effects.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
These are instances where they only eat away our credit, at least patients take the treatment. But, there are many other instances where such beliefs prove counter productive especially in psychiatric illnesses. Psychiatric illnesses where time of patient contact is perhaps the most important determinant of successful outcome. People would rather kill their patients doing woo-doo and what not, but never take them to a psychiatrist. And it is not just the poor, but rich (cast, community, creed, colour, gender no bar) more often who engage in such hoolabaloos.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Indians are spiritual. And our spirituality is often misguided, as much as Hitler's nationalism was misguided.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Its been a year since Dr. Dabholkar, an anti superstition activist was murdered. No arrests have been done. More importantly, no anti-superstition law has been passed. Communities take to roads demanding reservations, cities come to a standstill fighting corruption, police commissioners get transferred if a rape occurs in a remote corner of their jurisdiction, but no noise is raised, rather political parties shout down a legislation that would have corrected a very wrong that is routed in the community.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Matters of belief" is a very wide based argument, misused often. May be reintroduce Sati, hadn't Britishers interfered with out faith then?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
When I hear the argument that every Indian is Hindu, I don't feel like refuting it.Don't they walk with a mouthful of saffron and spit and colour every corner available in shades of orange to red. Perhaps, it's animal instinct, just as dogs can't let go of their affinity for car tyres.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
As much as you tell a patient that he has to throw the cotton swab in the red bag, even be polite enough to point it out to them. Yet, you can always see from the corner of your eye that it goes right under their cot. Blood soaked cotton swab, the most fertile medium for the most notorious germs to grow, stocked up under 70 beds in each ward.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We raised points of unavailability of medicines, of poor security conditions (especially for our female colleagues), the fact that resident doctors go on a strike almost 4-5 times in a year because some short tempered relative vents his ire on a treating doctor. Such instances occur in civic hospitals with in-house security cops, the rural scenario is left to one's imagination. We've all had experiences with those guys with running noses demanding '<i>INJJESHUN</i>'. And last, but not the least, also about bad roads and no ambulances in rural areas. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The persistent counter from the jury was "So isn't that your responsibility? Will you run away?"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Non-medicos (except medico's parents, spouses, children and immediate kin) have unexceptionally high expectations of social service from medicos. Partly our seniors have been responsible for that. They managed to keep high moral standards when everyone around was faltering. It is expected that the police will not lodge an FIR even if a murder takes place without first taking Gandhiji's blessings. But, doctors have always sacrificed their personal lives for the sake of strangers and made their sufferings their own.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Today, these expectations have sky rocketed to unreal heights perhaps infringing into administrative and executive domains. Thinking that doctors going to the villages will bring medicines and roads is perhaps acknowledging us for more than what we can do. Dr. Dabholkar was a Medical doctor, not a Ph. D. in sociology. Forget his life, did the society stand with him in his death?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
This is why I feel, that the medico's resistance to rural postings is illogical. Without the periphrenalia that we require, we will be useless. But, it may not be wrong to look at it as a year long paid vacation in the greenery and heart of nature. We have been living sleep deprived existence since we were 15, perhaps this is our gift at 24!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Its true that our opposition is because we can foresee that this exercise will be futile, that it will breed in more corruption into the field, that sending demotivated cadres will in fact be counter productive, that the nation will eventually loose its cream to the brain drain.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But, when people want only to be beaten by broom sticks, tie Bhaloo ka baal and Whale ki haddi, and look towards us a potential tool to win them elections, so be it.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
So guys, just chillax!</div>
</div>
Jayesh Virahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09375210361612483397noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2012671740504006636.post-67521084397098640372014-07-23T03:49:00.004+05:302014-07-23T03:58:50.247+05:30Of Sex Education, Phone Calls and Karyakram!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">The only session in "Ahem Education" that I had in school was a 1 hour lecture a few weeks after we had appeared for the Xth board exams. And, that too was held because either the Education Department or the BMC or someone else mandated it. What they spoke, even they had no clue about.I think now, that bees know more.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">"What is STD?" one asked.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">Being a studious, sincere student, I proudly raised my hand (as all geeks in schools do!)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">"Subscriber Trunk Dialing" I answered, with a smile grinning from ear to ear.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">"No, it is Sexually Transmitted Diseases." came the reply.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">And that was it. STD is Sexually Transmitted Diseases, full stop.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">What? How? Where? When? You were free to figure out by yourself.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">Luckily, I took up biology in college and managed to enter medicine. At least now, there is some authentic knowledge. I read about a couple of things that some advertisements in trains and a few websites proclaim. All non-sense! Unfortunate!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">Somethings so bizzare as, STDs are cured with sex with virgins! That perhaps explains the society's obsession with the V word. (Poor virgins! They be plagued for life.) </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">The reason why I am reminded of this incidence is the current string of rapes and sexual assaults that the media is highlighting. And one of the reasons I feel that the trend will not be curbed in any foreseeable future, is because of the element of ignorance.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">When educated people are ignorant, what about the already illiterate frustrated unemployed youths?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">I had the fortune of studying in a boy's school and therefore there is some first hand information of the endless limits to which the adolescent boy can dream. We used to share!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">The problem is less of perversion. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">What is the greatest human attribute? The ability to reproduce in any season? The opposable thumb? The discovery of fire? No, it is the ability to think.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">The problem is more of curiosity. What differentiates humans from monkeys and chimpanzees and orangutans, is among other things, our curiosity.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">Chimps, our closest relatives, can only think about thinking! We can actually think. Plus, we have curiosity! Added benefits!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">Curiosity, not adversity, is the mother of all inventions. We are curious about the stars, the moon, the mars and also the nucleus of the atom. About life, pre-life and after-life!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">We are curious of the past as also of the future. We try to satisfy our curiosity by finding answers. Where we can, we do. Where we can't we refer to the greatest invention of the human species: GOD.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><br />(Of course, then we fight and kill over it as well.)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">So, God created two humans, a male and a female. And each is curious about the other as well. And that is where the problem starts.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">We have the answers to most of the querries, but somehow, God once again is forbidding disseminating them, this time via the instrument of Morality and Decency and such other things conjured out of the thin air.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">About six months ago, I was doing my night shift in the casualty.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">Suddenly a group of about 14 men and women entered. No big deal! Bring 'em on. But, there was no trolley, no blood, no screaming patient nor a crying mother. They all were, however, surprisingly hold battery-torches. My first impression would have otherwise been that maybe a wall had fallen on someone in the dark night. I was curious.</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">"Sir, these two kids ran away from the house at 6 pm." said one. Apparently, they were neighbours.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">"Sir, we caught them now 10 minutes ago in a garden without clothes." He added. The time was 2.15 am.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">Torches, explained!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">"So, what's the problem?" I asked.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">"Sir, <i>aamhala watatay, hyaannee KARYAKRAM kela aahe!</i> <i>Tumhi fakt check karun sanga.</i>"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">"<i>Bol, </i>or else the doctor will anyway find out." Said a female to the girl. I presume that it should have been her mother.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">One of the benefits of internship was that one would not handle such sticky situations. So, gleefully I referred them to the senior MO on call and watched how he dealt with it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">It was a clearly medico-legal case. The kids were pretty young. And if the girl would have been under 16, and if, they had indeed performed the <i>karyakram, </i>the dude would be charged with statutory rape, consensuality not withstanding.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">Well, from what ever that transpired, neither parties were willing to file a police case, let alone even getting an official casualty paper issued.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">The families had no objections to the fact that they were run away lovers, neither was there any sense of animosity apparent between them. There greater concerns were whether the <i>karyakram </i>had been conducted or no. The mothers and the aunts were sweet talking the kids to confess, the fathers and the uncles playing "the bad cops" - Confess or the Doctor will find out.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><i>Door gaon me jab koi baccha sota nahi, to uski maa us se kehti hai, ki so jaa, nahi to Gabbar aa jaayega! </i>Something, on those lines.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">But they went away eventually, us being unable to comply to their requests without them willing to do appropriate procedures.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">The kids were lucky (pun not intended), that their families were cajoling them. A few hundred kilometers away, in Uttar Pradesh their bodies would otherwise have been found suspended from a banayan tree with a noose around their necks.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">Dr. Harsh Vardhan, the current Union Health Minister is the man responsible for eradicating polio from India. I read recently, that now he tends for Kala Azar to meet the same fate. And he will succeed, undoubtedly.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">But, even the views of such a visionary on "Ahem" Education are medieval. When Sunny Leone is starring as lead heroine in film after film, a simple Google Image search from even a naive fan, is bound to reveal more than he expected to see.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">How more graphic could your text books get sir?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">The knowledge is for dissipation! We are medical professionals and men of science. At least, such we
shouldn't feel ashamed and embarrassed when discharging our duties. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><br /></span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">Science has to replace shame, and in this scenario we are the most well equipped to do so.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">Coming back to the kids in discussion, it was a shameful loss for Indian Culture, <b>but Curiosity won</b>!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><b>Curiosity always wins</b>, just that sometimes the collateral damages become unacceptable. One can't curb curiosity........ its impossible ......... but one can channel it for sure. You can't make monkeys of humans, so let the sapiens blossom.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">(P. S.- Ahem in Hindi, means important)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><br /></span>
<br />
<h3 style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Had the MO given in to their requests, would they have said," <i>Mandal aaple aabhari aahe!</i>" ?</span></h3>
</div>
Jayesh Virahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09375210361612483397noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2012671740504006636.post-90795578758254723852014-04-28T22:05:00.001+05:302014-04-28T22:06:37.546+05:30O! What has happened of Men!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><i>(This article features in GOSUMAG 2013)</i></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> If
you call the 2<sup><span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="51f1d227-28b5-4c22-a5bf-d257e5bf9ab6" id="456b7e9e-1ec9-4818-a058-8e75e7e8aacb">nd</span></sup> <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="995ee7ad-6a11-4100-92c5-215db64b8e39" id="41e725ec-45ef-4e4f-bc4c-ade60e99a297">year</span> MBBS a honeymoon, <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="995ee7ad-6a11-4100-92c5-215db64b8e39" id="ef9b8116-8502-4309-89fb-3219a87e2c9b">call</span> the final year a hell.
The final MBBS exam, especially, is a living hell – an apt punishment for all
our karmas – past, present and even the future! The dying declaration is
considered to be the most truthful and as I write suffering these insufferable
<span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="17720161-3603-45a1-9d50-7a70b547efae" id="ebf71868-6227-439a-8e13-43f39e386e18">sulphurous</span> fires of hell, what I say is nothing but the truth.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Look
back, just five years ago, how happy we were! Young, vibrant and enthusiastic!
We were still ‘humans’, with social lives that could be measured on a Richter
scale. Five years hence, we are now ‘zombies’! No pain, no emotion, no
exhaustion! No sleep, no hunger, and more importantly, no joy. Generalized
anhedonia now defines us.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Is
it so difficult, passing an exam? Aren’t we the cream of the intellects? Having
cleared exam after exam, fortnight after fortnight, with an <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="cb908d40-3cc4-4a96-8340-e91ec70fb879" id="2b8f5620-9031-4474-9d8d-64c9361529d1">effort no</span> more than
required to slice a knife through a piece of butter, seasoned campaigners
hardened by the toils of war. Innumerable times we’ve heard, “If you can clear
this exam, you can clear any other!” However, at this time it seems more of a
taunt and less of a consolation. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">We have read, we have learned, we have
understood, we have practiced and even rotted and mugged, but since the past
few days the mind only draws a blank. All that has been constructed has just
disappeared. Even when we read our revision notes, it seems something new.
There is no déjà <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="fa58bab4-f5ca-45f3-8a08-a87e1d83beb8" id="baaa00da-1ccf-484a-b5d5-48df377d74a1">vu</span>! It is said that one should sleep well before the exams so
that one is relaxed and the mind can work at its optimum. But we’re just maniacs
now, sans the excitement and the happiness that is.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="border-bottom: dotted windowtext 3.0pt; border: none; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0cm 0cm 0cm 0cm;">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: dotted windowtext 3.0pt; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 0cm 0cm 0cm; padding: 0cm;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Every morning we look
in the mirror, and feel just that bit more ashamed. Somewhere, in another
parallel universe, is another version of us, who is better, who has continued
to travel on the upward trajectory, a path from which we have long deviated and
fallen. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: dotted windowtext 3.0pt; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 0cm 0cm 0cm; padding: 0cm;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Once in school, a
teacher gave me a mark less and I cried. Today they say – I will pass you
because the examiner who will take your exam six months later will not!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: dotted windowtext 3.0pt; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 0cm 0cm 0cm; padding: 0cm;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Is this good? No.
Because, we deserve better. The world deserves better. We do injustice to our
capabilities, to our talents, to our capacities, the hopes that people –
parents, friends and teachers – place in us. Usually, when greats retire, the
fans feel saddened and it appears that the void will never fill. None of these
accolades will ever come our way, though. We are way past our <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="663e9bab-03c6-4776-be7c-620aeb269960" id="86faaf75-7cc8-4e95-a40f-188234cafed3">greatness</span>!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: dotted windowtext 3.0pt; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 0cm 0cm 0cm; padding: 0cm;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Yet, we no longer
feel disgraced. It hurts, but not that much. The more you think, the more
<span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="240a5c45-6c7c-481e-b32a-b495c7810632" id="71f4ee53-1683-4fb6-80ca-4ea487c08279">immune you become</span>. It is the oxygen in our lungs, the blood in our veins and
the bile in our tummy. A Professor calls <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="5368add1-64e1-4bc5-a685-4ef0fe0ebc9b" id="af89aa8b-606c-4acf-8648-22dda5572226">it</span> shamelessness, I prefer the term
complacency. As bad as it may sound, it is the antidote to our stresses, a
necessary evil. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: dotted windowtext 3.0pt; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 0cm 0cm 0cm; padding: 0cm;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">O! What has happened
<span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="59bd9ccc-091f-4217-a507-bd5ddeac75a9" id="ab5caa12-4c9a-4e31-a7e5-04a7944a2d36">of</span> <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="59bd9ccc-091f-4217-a507-bd5ddeac75a9" id="8aba0172-46aa-417b-b759-e478e95fb741">men</span>!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
</div>
Jayesh Virahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09375210361612483397noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2012671740504006636.post-43846457190093532642014-04-19T18:33:00.000+05:302014-04-19T18:52:42.704+05:30Ek Bottle Khun Ka, Kaam Mera Roj Ka!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">"Kitna </span><span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="f0444b5c-32a6-4801-92e4-e736ed51544e" id="32001c2d-6ddb-45f5-97e6-41b4decb5602" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">khun</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> </span><span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="f0444b5c-32a6-4801-92e4-e736ed51544e" id="3ce32889-a025-4fdf-a0d6-50051cc982cd" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">nikaloge</span><span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="f0444b5c-32a6-4801-92e4-e736ed51544e" id="f540097e-2d52-422c-8189-60ac682da2f3" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> ?</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">" They ask.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">In the earlier days of my internship, I would explain then, how much and for what. But in the due course, I realized, that not all good intentions are always reciprocated. That time and trolley, waits for no intern! That the Registrar is not interested in whether you were counselling the patient. That the patient's well being is decided by timely blood reports and not by whether you answered all his queries.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Then again, it is the human body. It comes with its daily quota of physical and emotional and mental stamina. And all that can't be drained off within the first 2 hours of the day. So, we all mature with time.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"Kitna <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="c23e9790-6db7-496b-b75a-662a9d4bb24c" id="df2599b3-0ace-47ba-92f3-250b3f626fc5">khun</span> <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="c23e9790-6db7-496b-b75a-662a9d4bb24c" id="17373372-4994-4fe4-879a-d18bccc4315d">nikaloge</span>?" they ask.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"<span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="8039d8ce-6ab4-487a-ade0-ae1fc0dd1f0d" id="64ed75c1-d7b0-4a31-ac0e-9d771435069b">Roj</span> <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="8039d8ce-6ab4-487a-ade0-ae1fc0dd1f0d" id="f0680bc1-2323-4466-950b-ace30b12d0c8">nikalenge</span>!" I answer, the soldier hardened by a year of war. This is a good answer. It keeps most of them quiet for the entirety of their ward stay. It's diplomatic as well. Man, am I good diplomat! You sort of don't answer the question, but still give a satisfactory answer.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Then again, there are those days, when your mechanisms fail. Those are called the post-emerge days. Post-emerge, post-emergency for those of you who may be interested in knowing the full forms of our medical lingo, is the day that comes once or twice in a week, when you have an emergency the previous day. An emergency is defined as a day, when you manage actual medical emergencies, and not those that your acquaintances call you up in the middle of the night for, like cough, cold and its cousins.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The beauty of a post-emerge is that, most of the times you would not have slept for about 20-22 hours at a stretch, some lucky sons of guns go on for 40-44 hours and then its day dawn for your post-emerge. So maybe, about 5-8 more hours before you can fall dead. You basically work at a spinal level as most of your higher facilities start shutting shop and dissociating from each other.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"Kitna <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="024a9dc8-18cb-4bd2-ba25-212c6a0cc5ff" id="3d2487af-a422-4acf-9577-53aa52d65618">khun</span> <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="024a9dc8-18cb-4bd2-ba25-212c6a0cc5ff" id="7b9b0f16-f559-4c11-9ed9-f264be875797">nikaloge</span>?" they ask.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"<span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="36683f4f-7cc3-461e-889c-6b7b037811f0" id="769e435c-2fba-4cc0-ac76-2555449f8393">Aadha</span> <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="36683f4f-7cc3-461e-889c-6b7b037811f0" id="af57582d-ab51-48a6-81fb-c03c8a71ae27">aaj</span> <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="36683f4f-7cc3-461e-889c-6b7b037811f0" id="21984055-e492-41b5-ac16-d1452216890d">nikalenge</span> <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="36683f4f-7cc3-461e-889c-6b7b037811f0" id="a50a417f-68f1-4cef-89d7-fa0c3bbcc531">aur</span> <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="36683f4f-7cc3-461e-889c-6b7b037811f0" id="554ad665-65e2-46a1-bde0-1d96d9451a35">aadha</span> <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="36683f4f-7cc3-461e-889c-6b7b037811f0" id="fb0153c0-8472-409b-9022-e9218118bf43">kal</span>!" a post-emerge me answers.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">My friend (who's hooked on to weed) and I were once discussing life in general. He said he did weed, because it sent him to another world. I described to him my feelings post-emerge. He said, if only he could get such a kick! Sleep deprivation causes dis-inhibition, to be short and sweet.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">In my disinhibited state, I loose my diplomacy, and as is the fervor this election season, say something detrimental, but it won't get me any votes. Definitely, if someone told me that he would take away half of my blood today and the remaining half the next day, I would run away. But sometimes, things become such a daily routine for you that you forget that they mean drastically different for others.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"Par <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="ffddc722-8caa-4b40-a279-ed4e60eed60a" id="6c5215b1-a0a0-4593-91fe-b6e81b4dca67">kal</span> <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="ffddc722-8caa-4b40-a279-ed4e60eed60a" id="f116cfad-50f9-4f92-81fe-016ad6744da5">bhi</span> to <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="ffddc722-8caa-4b40-a279-ed4e60eed60a" id="c20d60a7-7583-4157-aa30-57aa0daf516d">liya</span> <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="ffddc722-8caa-4b40-a279-ed4e60eed60a" id="5b2b70dd-308b-403c-a0c4-342c7c105f05">tha</span>. <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="8eea5784-2417-433c-8f97-dc908cd36ed9" id="64376362-cf20-4794-a2bb-fbfb2027ebd4">Aur</span> <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="8eea5784-2417-433c-8f97-dc908cd36ed9" id="0ebdf95e-efaa-4fe0-95bd-9be78b2a189d">isko</span> <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="8eea5784-2417-433c-8f97-dc908cd36ed9" id="8bfea0b0-4d52-43ae-a566-fb1d5d71d01e">khun</span> <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="8eea5784-2417-433c-8f97-dc908cd36ed9" id="d474c502-e067-4d0e-ba15-f91c47352840">kitna</span> <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="8eea5784-2417-433c-8f97-dc908cd36ed9" id="0be97eef-b703-4334-8d1a-fdf2141d563a">kaam</span> <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="8eea5784-2417-433c-8f97-dc908cd36ed9" id="5b481998-999b-4546-9bde-20978ab089ba">hai</span>!" The mother adds in. "Khun banta hi nahi iske sharir me."</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"Haath seedha karo aur muthhi tight karo. <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="fae22bfb-141a-41a1-956a-f091fa83ffee" id="a7ccd754-1709-46d6-a9a3-c29d671347a4">Hilna</span> mat, ek <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="fae22bfb-141a-41a1-956a-f091fa83ffee" id="dd0467a4-d790-4de2-8401-762d5add9833">baar</span> me <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="fae22bfb-141a-41a1-956a-f091fa83ffee" id="5800d8a9-341b-4538-820a-ef99354cc30c">nikalne</span> ka hai, aur <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="fae22bfb-141a-41a1-956a-f091fa83ffee" id="5cdaaabd-c926-4dd4-8c8e-7e2d56eb0d1e">bahoot</span> <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="fae22bfb-141a-41a1-956a-f091fa83ffee" id="18e70d6b-c2d0-48b3-aa19-f4aacfdda5c6">nikalne</span> ka <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="fae22bfb-141a-41a1-956a-f091fa83ffee" id="3b06e7aa-e207-4a51-a4a8-d6ac1902aa4c">hai</span>" say I with a smile, as I flash him a 20cc syringe, made famous by those funny scenes in the yesteryears' <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="fae22bfb-141a-41a1-956a-f091fa83ffee" id="49c436c5-08ef-4cd4-8d00-6e7ff0d7cb1f">bollywood</span> movies as "Haathi ka Injection". I think it may be the shock of such a huge thing penetrating their bodies or something, but they don't say anything after that. Except for the one occasion, of course, when the mother actually pulled me away when I barely had collected 5 cc screaming "Bas <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="8065f90e-38cf-4239-a2a4-2082824fe96b" id="58759153-08ad-4653-a750-57d3800eb26e">karo</span>!"</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"<span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="13be6709-fe33-479e-8d2b-e9bcc4a3018a" id="2e59cc82-f6a4-4f53-8a0e-73f0e6166056">Aur</span> <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="13be6709-fe33-479e-8d2b-e9bcc4a3018a" id="6a1a8386-9f52-4342-bece-ca93a739e5d2">isko</span> <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="13be6709-fe33-479e-8d2b-e9bcc4a3018a" id="6c9cb1b3-014e-440c-bdf3-7d5422974c2c">khun</span> <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="13be6709-fe33-479e-8d2b-e9bcc4a3018a" id="bbda277a-2479-4924-a33d-660f44d849d5">kitna</span> <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="13be6709-fe33-479e-8d2b-e9bcc4a3018a" id="f685b617-6758-4ccc-aed6-18900b0cf879">kaam</span> <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="13be6709-fe33-479e-8d2b-e9bcc4a3018a" id="52b8eaf7-e73d-4a2b-8de4-828fae6c7d3f">hai</span>!" The mother adds in. "Khun banta hi nahi iske sharir me."</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"Khun chadhana hai" I answer, "is liye tapas bhej rahe hai."</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"Roj ka 5-5 bottle khun nikaal nikkal ke khun khatam kar diya, abhi ek bottle chadhyenge!"</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"Khun <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="2e4917f6-31e6-4bf2-a504-21e601af4e08" id="2901f8e5-ee96-40a1-a0a5-958d05e9104f">chadhana</span> hai ki nahi?" I ask. The basic tenet of medicine is that the patient decides his course of treatment. I leave the choice to them, therefore.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">My friend had an interesting encounter once, on her post-emerge day. The relative proclaimed, " I know there is syndicate here. You collect all our blood <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="a7863df0-e129-4e01-a980-4ac72ccfbbd8" id="ee187892-fbc2-46ee-8556-78b767513f6c">everyday</span><span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="a7863df0-e129-4e01-a980-4ac72ccfbbd8" id="ea8c2181-364b-4a1b-9ed7-b11d1145e43f"> .......</span> And sell it to the blood bank. Then you tell us to go and get a bottle of blood from them! I am going to complain to Aamir Khan."</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Aamir Khan, is the de-facto highest medical authority in India, btw!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"No, I am hungry and blood is tasty and I drink all of it! " She said, in her intoxicated state.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"Khun <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="76847081-fcce-405e-b9ef-669ee0a87040" id="b61287e8-5b34-424b-8d40-60c67d57d31c">chadhana</span> hai ki nahi?" I ask.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"Par kal bhi chadhaya tha. "</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"Kal ka report <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="3437eeb6-7a07-43cb-8aef-0e9e557b0d1f" id="5cf4d272-b891-4440-8989-4d41f27feaea">aaj</span> nahi chalta. Khun <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="e13cdeec-858e-439c-b56f-3e72c19e451f" id="9240151c-d523-4ab3-b04a-60c26fd1d060">chadhane</span> ke liye, blood group check karna padta hai."</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"To <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="2b35c3a8-4b02-409c-acbc-4fedd7ea7b4c" id="079e7a6f-1461-4ad7-baa8-206a816f8b83">kya</span> blood group change ho jaata hai?'</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Valid question. But, there are safety mechanisms and legalities. I would have loved to explain in details to her, but for the lack of time.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">She continued," Aap bolo unko, khun kam hai, aise hi dusra bottle de do."</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"I don't want to go to jail. There are rules!"</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"<span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="6435a020-b83c-4891-b673-dba185a9a42f" id="b9545d6f-8bbd-487f-aed3-151281f631c9">Aise</span> <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="6435a020-b83c-4891-b673-dba185a9a42f" id="3f009ca9-3a45-43bc-8bc1-dd2e34d49e94">kaise</span> rules <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="6435a020-b83c-4891-b673-dba185a9a42f" id="f2d65fe1-7396-4ab5-9a0e-24d05f1864ba">banate</span> ho <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="6435a020-b83c-4891-b673-dba185a9a42f" id="f15fbecc-af71-40b1-b168-e6f374de7afc">aap</span> log?"</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"Khun <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="88824e9f-9d8b-46c9-8972-273d6f4d378f" id="ff779b56-3c16-417c-8692-3141f2837f65">chadhana</span> hai ki nahi?" I ask. The silence that follows, is an implied consent.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"Yaa Allah! <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="8f8be55a-cd7e-4014-9ca3-a4354ed95b2f" id="3ee92db2-d596-488a-831c-c205f0ab7fe5">Ye</span> <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="8f8be55a-cd7e-4014-9ca3-a4354ed95b2f" id="474b25f8-0cc7-429c-9b77-a4c42c00f1cc">kya</span> <i><span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="8f8be55a-cd7e-4014-9ca3-a4354ed95b2f" id="bed5d057-f89b-4567-9ea9-2493e6c056b1">marj</span></i> <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="8f8be55a-cd7e-4014-9ca3-a4354ed95b2f" id="72fac827-d5f8-4fd5-a11f-efce77679a23">hai</span>!" she shouted, as I <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="8f8be55a-cd7e-4014-9ca3-a4354ed95b2f" id="0f362f1d-c08c-4d8d-876a-038627f85c10">pricked</span> her.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"Chachi, aap ki liver pe sujaan aa gayi hai."</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"Wo mujhe pata hai" she said, " Tumhe kya <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="cc634f1b-4f7f-49be-98e3-dee7119168e3" id="e6879f03-cdfc-434f-b617-8f7598f06909">marj</span> <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="cc634f1b-4f7f-49be-98e3-dee7119168e3" id="3a896b76-a1cd-4337-aea3-b247b6310963">hai</span>? Aise suiyaan chubhate rehte ho."</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"<span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="55d40660-08a7-4abb-913f-769a7187a1d1" id="f765ca4d-4910-4644-a69a-a86caf2fe3c2">Aap</span> ke liye hi kar rahe hai." I couldn't think of anything else.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Monday, 21st April, 2014, will be the last day of my internship. For all the foreseeable future, blood collections (majority of them) will be someone else's responsibility. That poor soul will be my intern! And O! Shall I grin, from ear to ear!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">What is it, that makes such an innocuous procedure seem such a hardship to the patients?</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Is it fear? Fear psychosis..... <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="58e4be46-2dc0-4b85-890f-1e5d2488db6a" id="1d3f2b57-c0b1-42be-969f-ef1723d72765">Internship</span> has been <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="58e4be46-2dc0-4b85-890f-1e5d2488db6a" id="082bfbe3-8376-4968-a7b3-508d5e0184c6">of</span> 365 days, and it has been 365 faces of fear psychosis! Some of them our own faces, majority those of the patients.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">There were days when our hands trembled, for we feared, we may hurt the patients...... There were times, our hands trembled for the fear we may hurt ourselves. There were times we dreaded contracting a deadly disease from a patient, there are times when we think and only think about the uncertainty of the future.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Why does it occur?</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Is it because, we are afraid of what we do not know?</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">All-in-all, anxiety and uncertainty and immature psychological defense mechanism of transference makes life hell for us. Knowledge can be empowering...... <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="423e2656-6d4f-46a4-baa1-ff49e5699649" id="c8d8bf88-152d-4bec-86da-6afd6dbe5017">but</span> not always! Knowledge can be dissipated, but not always. There are prejudices, beliefs and misunderstandings that, do us all in.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We all face them, though, in whatever way we can. Arguing with an intern, perhaps, because somewhere in a dark corner of your mind, the brain has equated a blood collection with a disease, which has affected you, of which you are suffering, of which you know little, which has changed your priorities....... <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="6c4c0ce9-77d2-4c78-a012-506e4492641a" id="8031da32-6e8b-4989-bba3-57dc2a3e4015">and</span> of course, you do not know, if it will take you to the grave.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> My friend (who's hooked on to weed) and I were once discussing life in general. And he said, he did weed, cause it helped him think about things in a way, he wouldn't have otherwise.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Medicine, has made me think about things in a way, I wouldn't have otherwise.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">There is a diabetic admitted in my ward. We want his fasting blood sugar levels, but he always eats something before I come.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"Monday morning <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="ec2df4e2-9abc-4016-8693-b42938553397" id="38570ab1-828d-499b-818e-8eb0d55d1791">ko</span>, <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="ec2df4e2-9abc-4016-8693-b42938553397" id="be20fd18-00d5-4921-8835-e3dc0ecd3385">mai</span> <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="ec2df4e2-9abc-4016-8693-b42938553397" id="1ab7774b-62f1-4569-81b5-7a43f0771b6e">nahi</span> <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="ec2df4e2-9abc-4016-8693-b42938553397" id="879c2b8d-26a3-40cc-a11a-21c5f746b945">aaunga</span> tab <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="ec2df4e2-9abc-4016-8693-b42938553397" id="2b12e8ba-f1bf-49af-9eff-cb25261ce99c">tak</span> <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="ec2df4e2-9abc-4016-8693-b42938553397" id="19a18d78-05c0-47e5-9552-2b8b9068d89c">kuch</span> mat <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="ec2df4e2-9abc-4016-8693-b42938553397" id="87be2d94-673e-478a-a27d-44b1969e8891">khilana</span>!" I instructed as I prepared to leave.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"Par Sir, <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="cdd2d916-b7bc-4fd3-bd34-c3b0e3e368fd" id="c76d8881-170e-4e1e-970e-c5afd1be1a34">ye</span> <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="cdd2d916-b7bc-4fd3-bd34-c3b0e3e368fd" id="e106333b-9f4a-422e-8be4-95ad3fd2f689">bahut</span> weak <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="cdd2d916-b7bc-4fd3-bd34-c3b0e3e368fd" id="7e2eff4b-3d30-4929-9f51-163302996dd4">hai</span>! 2 din bhookha kaise rahega?"</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">At some point in the future, I do see myself becoming a resident medical officer. More responsibilities, more complex procedures and definitely more food for.... <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="897acbb7-c5ec-4a24-a3bc-f98c2f1474ba" id="65a356cf-5d5b-4ba9-bd67-1fa1579178b5">sorry</span> weed for thought!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Thank you, my dear patients for a small trailer of the bigger picture to come.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Another friend of mine, did a blood collection, and handed over the bottle to the husband saying, " Isko <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="171fb885-59b8-417a-90b1-e8dca13f9d72" id="692d3640-a306-4923-9903-e9572b2ca55a">hilao</span>!"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">She blinked, and the fellow had uncapped the bottle and was just about to feed the sample to his wife.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"Array! <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="5469c2d2-dd21-40ec-851a-5215a5e14a9d" id="875361d3-7221-48c7-b2c9-74947c7c0bd3">Ye</span> kya kar rahe ho?" She exclaimed, in shock and surprise.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"Aap hi ne t bola, Isko PILAO!"</span></div>
</div>
Jayesh Virahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09375210361612483397noreply@blogger.com2Parel, Mumbai, Maharashtra, India19.00018831298749 72.84563854336738619.000070812987488 72.845481043367386 19.000305812987492 72.845796043367386tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2012671740504006636.post-71309206931855211042014-03-23T17:46:00.002+05:302014-03-23T17:49:43.669+05:30Uncoding Online Reviews!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>"These are dark times, my friend, " said one fictional character to another....... <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="f27b21bb-31a0-4746-9c9f-1f5bb95c08e9" id="b795c9c7-e625-49bf-8848-3ffddbb03ddb"><span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="ae7a8487-b6e0-48ee-b39a-60efdf288c1e" id="1176834f-513c-46fe-aaec-3104911173ea">and</span></span> my friend who is a big fan of the series, kept on repeating it all day, for days on end, until one day I punched him <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="f27b21bb-31a0-4746-9c9f-1f5bb95c08e9" id="a22fa4a7-3cd5-448e-9b70-7bd2f00e16f8"><span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="ae7a8487-b6e0-48ee-b39a-60efdf288c1e" id="70635240-beae-4a55-aa19-77d6a388bf07">on</span></span> the face and gifted him dark times around one of his eyes.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I quote this incident, because currently I <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="d79d266c-f9c7-41c6-9bf3-8ca77396f1b4" id="f659f713-9f2f-49e5-b6c6-36d8eb987e68"><span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="8993d913-c8e4-4804-ba33-a39d70cd03ac" id="4fb072f8-c470-49ac-9839-77d02b1314c5">do feel</span></span> that these are dark times.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I will be visiting a far off city, for the 1st time, for a couple of days, a couple of months later. And so, the preparations are in full swing and most of them "a-swing-and-a-miss". One of the things I am very worried about is my accomodation. They say the city is safer than Mumbai...... <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="2cba370e-a9c9-4208-91ce-9423a3523254" id="bf69fa99-60cd-4b2a-ab01-1c4d8285bdfb"><span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="74c16541-ec85-49d0-a545-2fcd1eef2b4e" id="7a6dcefe-39ea-4f71-b9bf-126ce1210466">which</span></span> should make it the safest city in the country, but then the true-blue Mumbaikar will not accept that claim.......<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>So, to be on the safe side, it's good to be assured that you have booked a good accomodation.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>In the era of the internet, everything is online..... <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="08ac010f-6e9b-4ee2-8811-ed0cd60b5d57" id="cf886fdd-cd4b-4da5-b374-0c56efb4d21e"><span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="52931dc6-0c8f-48e8-887b-af81ef633441" id="44f7d33a-75ec-43ec-ad98-239c68809d63">e-mails</span></span>, e-payments, e-transfers. We Indians, anyway, have been making hay of the internet even before it was <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="dcaf2af8-2961-4d0f-a727-16483557b019" id="6931a2f2-e7ad-4de1-a79c-95ec7947f67b"><span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="9eee9f46-1148-4b33-b67b-838ab1c9fa98" id="bbd21024-35cc-4265-b0d4-63b3ceffbee3">in</span></span> its stage of genesis. For centuries we have been e-smiling at each other, talking and gossiping about the e-smooches in <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="a2702538-2416-4ef2-93be-cf0d4f820096" id="c80e0b44-000e-42c2-86a3-3004cdaf7075"><span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="15347202-7bc4-452c-b39b-75b022589cfe" id="3f78cdde-4bbd-42b3-a306-a11432496433">E-nglish</span></span> e-stories converted to films, playing all sorts of e-sports, going on e-strikes and what not in our own e-special e-styles. But, all this doesn't bother me. What bothered me was my first experience of booking hotel rooms the e-way.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>In the e-<span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="2d865c48-25c8-4cc3-a3b6-bc7f85baa43d" id="2ae0a09b-aca2-468e-9c79-eac895b189ff"><span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="3a814674-5220-4062-ba3c-44deeab2ea14" id="5f23566c-6f53-4508-ab93-8f17cd4fbaaa">ra</span></span> of social media, communications <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="2d865c48-25c8-4cc3-a3b6-bc7f85baa43d" id="217e4cdc-0fca-4071-885d-49032c43d855"><span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="3a814674-5220-4062-ba3c-44deeab2ea14" id="69e3e307-504c-4969-9695-1f9eabf3c05e">have broken</span></span> down. In those olden days, people would inquire with friends and friends and relatives of friends for such queries. But, the confident youth of today (such as myself) more often than not, e-<span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="a15fbf35-ec37-4e86-bfd9-9a8aa5f524c8" id="bfa7df56-f833-4656-9b06-2560ee57765b"><span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="d265e086-d76f-4a25-9ec8-81ba22a14367" id="d8e62e1f-5e96-4b7a-ab7b-c8e0a3688589">mpowered</span></span> by the e-<span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="a15fbf35-ec37-4e86-bfd9-9a8aa5f524c8" id="3f43fa95-dc69-4a8f-97c9-1868b1a075e1"><span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="d265e086-d76f-4a25-9ec8-81ba22a14367" id="19175ae3-76db-4c8d-a50e-baec4c262e79">nternet</span></span>, take things into their own hands, go to google and get all our <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="a15fbf35-ec37-4e86-bfd9-9a8aa5f524c8" id="53b04d0b-9d84-4672-9684-f25360bd91fb"><span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="d265e086-d76f-4a25-9ec8-81ba22a14367" id="153e250a-a807-4a88-a1d6-bbf109ad0dfc">querries</span></span> answered.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>So, I rub my magic lamp, and a Google comes out of it. "<i><span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="806a48d4-7a40-4435-8e12-6d438d0c4c88" id="427c131a-eccc-46d3-8e25-9ed09c2a6e45"><span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="773be0f7-b9a1-4101-a3fd-197320d428cf" id="b32a575f-e9c2-48ad-ae2b-b8e1b4f91ad6">Hukum</span></span> mere <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="806a48d4-7a40-4435-8e12-6d438d0c4c88" id="bf0e5752-c733-4c69-8b79-c90f35b13626"><span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="773be0f7-b9a1-4101-a3fd-197320d428cf" id="2bd566d7-1604-4828-9001-5b606079e6f9">aaka</span></span>! Aaj <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="8a9d425b-e5c0-47b8-bc1d-4eef5a990d96" id="d3ce6666-96d1-45d5-a2e0-914a9d6159c5"><span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="6b8c3fc0-3ad9-4938-a8a5-11d02956d362" id="c606c2e5-251a-47fd-a02d-df7cf4f6bc9a">kya</span></span> <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="8a9d425b-e5c0-47b8-bc1d-4eef5a990d96" id="6cf3973e-e3b2-4c26-ad22-39980af858a2"><span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="6b8c3fc0-3ad9-4938-a8a5-11d02956d362" id="134344e5-4299-4ae1-a1f3-50540e35d732">maangta</span></span></i>???" As if reading my mind, it has already given search results before I have finished typing........ "You know, interrupting others is ill manners" my mother stills reprimands me, but the standards for Google are different.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Cheap hotels....... <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="a1b77681-04b8-4fc9-b4a3-9f93ade7b37f" id="9bb962a3-014e-452d-9623-387681b96649"><span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="10af887c-65bb-474b-9024-6b9b339eee96" id="15fc39fb-8074-4d85-a460-d723094c7df6">and</span></span> some 200 pages and 200,000 search results in 0.0025 of a second. E-<span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="4828a853-7039-46e0-852a-93da581ddc41" id="659fc07a-1b4e-417a-81e0-29738d0ec9cb"><span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="3f136741-a466-499b-8b4b-e6e170fa52c6" id="32eb6075-cf7c-4134-a31e-7084973e5a2a">mpressive</span></span>! I look up the first few results........ Click on photos for preview..... I am blown out this world into the outer e-space! Such beautiful rooms at such throw away prices!! Why rent an apartment, when staying in a hotel is profitable.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But, one must always read reviews...... So, I began reading.<br />
Everything seemed very pink and rosy. A particular site had a good system of having classified their reviews from family to solo and business, excellent to terrible. Might as well see, what problems people had with it...... (Just to see if it's worth taking a shot)<br />
<br />
Under terrible:<br />
#1: No windows...... <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="1b2d0100-b4f7-41b6-bee7-a82b5df8eff2" id="b1ae364b-b123-4f7a-813c-edffacffe990"><span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="9af7a882-5c3d-40f4-9039-f28107827bc3" id="90e85f57-dfb8-4f13-a45f-133103a81502">rooms</span></span> nothing like the ones shown in the photos.<br />
#2: Flush not working.<br />
#3: The room on the ground floor has a broken window....... <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="125e1e88-784d-4f9c-bdbc-21af6b7d6247" id="1f34303c-2681-45f0-aa6a-643710a2765b"><span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="9c4461e8-0567-4cda-9e74-0180c44a5f2e" id="ecb3430e-cb9f-4760-b89b-cd3789cd6bab">people</span></span> from the <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="125e1e88-784d-4f9c-bdbc-21af6b7d6247" id="d3191b23-a201-4e1a-bf9c-9b8e11873968"><span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="9c4461e8-0567-4cda-9e74-0180c44a5f2e" id="037167dc-d594-4fe9-9002-32e20259d395">neighbour</span></span> building just kept peeping <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="125e1e88-784d-4f9c-bdbc-21af6b7d6247" id="d9969eb8-2262-4763-8cbc-467c11522bc2"><span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="9c4461e8-0567-4cda-9e74-0180c44a5f2e" id="3e107f4c-4908-4ee9-8fc3-e149d40d3a24">in</span></span> the room all through the night...... <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="0b1349c9-ffae-4327-96c2-2bfd71073c5c" id="4322f4ed-600e-4606-a1a2-1c4b04f21a3f"><span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="85927949-aaca-4ede-bcf9-385d2f770bc7" id="f82955ac-4ac0-4d31-ab25-b1f24e6cfde6">made</span></span> me very uncomfortable...... (Yeah, that's what <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="e2bbe71c-c4ee-4e49-9859-db4b4a80c3a9" id="7c087938-a479-4fbc-b8b1-6835474e836b"><span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="16cb4313-15b0-40e0-b59d-9e492e4f8be2" id="66b2290f-436d-4dd7-828f-8914709ea064">Indians</span></span> do.)<br />
#4: Very noisy.<br />
#5: Rude manager.<br />
#6: The toilets were not clean.... The sofa had molds..... AC wasn't working.<br />
#7: No maintenance. The bathroom was filled with hair of the previous visitor.....<br />
#8: Area is surrounded by brothels...... Not good for women travelling alone!<br />
<br />
Those under Solo and Business read<br />
# 1:Excellent place, warm people.<br />
# 2: will come back again.<br />
# 3: Excellent room service.<br />
#4: Reached there at night for a stopover on a trip to Delhi.... <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="d4b008fe-88e6-4e07-b3d7-3b0266f44fd8" id="854d1201-9211-4349-92aa-2b64319ccdcb"><span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="e33f8b57-19ff-4d14-9d59-f3d8dc4f7a2d" id="2c8141a2-9e38-4814-9290-29a1654345f5">could</span></span> have done with better sound proofing as it is located on the highway..... But, great place at this price.<br />
#5: I've been here thrice, gets better each time.<br />
#6: I never write any reviews, but this place is so good that I am writing it. (That was all, and indeed that user had this lone review to his credit)<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Eventually, since I am going for an exam, I have decided, this is definitely not the place I want to stay at. I have gotten in touch with a couple of people who know people residing in the said city to refer me to a safe place.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>By-the-by, the following review requires a special mention. <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="5bb7742c-9f7c-4f15-9e03-f25056cde17e" id="648e7485-81e8-4ac8-b5b6-657c1585327f"><span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="895ffd7c-2912-4b41-b90c-1c8a61ca9181" id="25a43de1-2f46-455c-9ab6-3752d479c3f1">Categorised</span></span> under the one rating the said hotel <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="895ffd7c-2912-4b41-b90c-1c8a61ca9181" id="72ba2663-4d67-4f97-8adb-d7777d370142">as</span> excellent-<br />
<br />
Stayed here for three nights. Poor ventilation, poor room service, charged me more at checkout. But on the bright side, J.W. <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="6f1b14ac-0dde-4f54-a1d0-b41850e88ed1" id="bdfcd695-e9cb-4097-99c2-c8a7a30369ef">Marriot</span> is bang opposite, so you can pop-out of here in the middle of the night and go there.<br />
<br />
What do you mean???<br />
<br />
This <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="adf6e01f-ed82-4318-9677-2cf8478a8f06" id="b69866db-50ed-4968-9ccc-97283d5284ad"><span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="aadd8bd1-8995-4a85-9d4e-1038884a5ae2" id="3bc270fa-6c26-48b8-821a-22a7dd6bebcd">hasn't been</span></span> my first experience reading online reviews....... A month ago, my old laptop crashed and I had to buy a new one. Read online reviews and bought a Leovo..... <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="46b2c238-765a-4ee7-a6a6-70f3a3361837" id="16160c7c-c3b8-430f-89e9-1e58758acfb9"><span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="dc8ffb37-56e9-4c40-90e2-5b877324c56a" id="24c5c8aa-5363-4183-8f6d-722a38ad8d63">which</span></span> crashed on day one.... Went back and exchanged it for an HP.... <span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="ca6ff34f-9881-4ce3-991f-374461a7f2d0" id="3c936afa-6804-4959-91d4-15e87b71ba56"><span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="f0ff9690-6705-4adc-b499-14e54cc6c2a0" id="c9c833c0-ecbd-4596-a9ac-f4b98467cf32">which</span></span> was reviewed to be bad..... Has been working e-smoothly!<br />
<br />
Conclusions:<br />
1. When Indians write reviews, they can't be trusted. Either we don't know what we are writing or forget to include the "pun intended" in brackets.<br />
2. It all boils down to the price..... If its cheap its e-<span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="86efe1e3-aaef-4409-9800-fb2b5209963f" id="cb1a18fd-97d1-4c08-8a65-833be460cb5d"><span class="GINGER_SOFTWARE_mark" ginger_software_uiphraseguid="dbbc5767-573c-4f4f-8181-477d29f40003" id="0380a4f0-f626-4d79-874e-c41cc76da26e">xcellent</span></span>.<br />
<br />
Contact someone who you know personally and follow their advice.</div>
Jayesh Virahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09375210361612483397noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2012671740504006636.post-1022138972786196392013-12-23T23:33:00.000+05:302013-12-27T16:00:45.012+05:30Death - The Best Medicine<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: justify;">
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Laughter is the best medicine..... or is it? The more one dwells into the abstract, the more one realises that it perhaps isn't.</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>"How was your MICU posting?" I asked a colleague. I expected he would say things like x number of CPRs or y number of Central lines or something of that sort. But he replied," Kuch nahi..... ABG karo and then around 3-4 am patients start dying. It happens everyday.... 4 -5 to jaate hi hain." Chuckle, and we moved on.</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Such is my profession, that we laugh at almost any and every thing. My mother says, especially since my internship has commenced, that I have become very pessimist..... that I do not say 'good' things any more. 'Good things', how do you define good things?</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>About a year and a half ago, a bunch of us junior college buddies met up. Being the sole medico in a hitherto group of 6 +/- 1 engineers, I tried to keep pace with the conversation and give my inputs as they spoke of Accenture, Infosys, Patni going out of business, fat packages and so on and sultry. Then, probably after a few PJs which made it clear that I was loosing tract, they courteously asked, "So, Jayesh, what do you do? Tell us about the best thing you have seen in medicine."</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>"It was on Diwali night of my second year", I began enthusiastically. "A diabetic wheeled in. He had gangrene of his foot. Three of his fingers had rotten and we performed an amputation......... We cut his leg just below the knee...." I simplifiied so that they could follow what I was saying, as we chewed on a sumptuous lunch. "I assisted in that procedure. It was beautiful!" </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>"God! Jayesh, what's wrong with you! How can you say that rotten feet are beautiful?" They echoed as one choked and the other gagged on their morsels.</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Okay, I get it, i don't speak 'good things' any more.</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But, while my profession has been making me heartless.... emotionless so to say.... squeezing me dry and devoid of the very aesthetic that differentiates <i>sajeev</i> from <i>nirjeev</i>, it has indeed opened a portal to the mystic and the subconscious. I perhaps understand life a little better now. And nothing helps understanding life more than understanding death.</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<br /></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Death is universal. I probably learnt to spell death in Sr. KG when they taught that the opposite of life is death. Then, when I was around 7 my grandfather expired. As the rituals about the funeral proceeded, I wondered why the ladies in the house were weeping so inconsolably? More elders dressed in white poured in and tried consoling them. All this time, I only wondered, trying to configure what was going on. This is all that I remember of that day.</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Then, about a couple of years later, my father rescued a sparrow and it became my pet. I used clean its cage, feed it grains..... and then one morning, it just lay motionless. My dad said, it had died. I cried.... for my friend..... not because it understood what death meant. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>A few years later my grandmother expired. I cried because, I realised I wouldn't get to see her any more. Death, per se, still remained a strange entity. I never gave it much thought.... never pondered over its complexities...... partly because I got too engrossed in my own life and also (luckily) due to the fact that no one else in my family has passed away since. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>In between, my English curriculum in school had two poems, 'Death be not proud' and 'Death the Great leveler', but still I failed to grasp the abstract.</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Now a days, people just keep dying all around me. And, I realise that some people are valuable when they are alive and some others after they are gone. There are some for whom you wish they are better dead, some whom you wish, live forever.</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>A distant relative of mine sent me a MRI for opinion. The report was suggestive of Interstitial lung disease. ILD- one of my hot favourite topics these days in view of my exams. Different diseases causing ILD of upper lobe predominantly and some others of lower lobe predominantly..... their treatments, for majority of which none exist.... and few experimental novel drug..... which I mug up but which in reality will probably never get out of the labs and in clinical practice. But its exams..... <i>pet ka sawal hai</i>.</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>So, I tried, in my hallmark mask face and expressionless emotionless monotonous voice, explaining that the disease had a very bad prognosis, that there was only one way...... going down and none other that they should NOT believe any ayurvedic or such practitioner who will claim a cure..... ayurvedics claim a cure for everything..... that she has little time left and they should brace themselves for a tough time maintaining her. That it is not cancer and not infectious.</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Today, as I was discussing the same with my mother that how bad an end awaited her, it came to my realisation that knowing every disease and more importantly seeing the end, has just made me a bit paranoid when it comes to the health of my beloveds. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>There is an entity called "The Final Year syndrome" - it occurs universally to everyone irrespective of age, gender or race or culture- in which Final year medical students read of diseases and start finding symptoms of the same in themselves. Can you imagine, diagnosing yourself with a near fatal disease every single day....... that's why the final MBBS exam is called the toughest exam. And, to the quote the idiom. 'What doesn't kill you, makes you stronger.'</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>So, as we were discussing, the phone rang with the sad news. "Be happy" I told my mother. "She has actually been spared of a lot of pain and suffering. Imagine, if had lived longer, she would have been confined to a bed, wouldn't have been able to breathe without a ventilator .... her caretakers would have had their personal lives destroyed....... Be happy, that she died peacefully."</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>She had gone to the village, for a change of air and to pay her respects to the family diety. "If she had been in a hospital, we wouldn't have let her die and she wouldn't have given up a life that wouldn't have been worth living."</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Life in a hospital is all about witnessing battles for survival.... brave battles, day in and day out. You feel overwhelmed sometimes by the extent to which humans cling on to life.... till very last bit of it. But then, death is so good.... No pain, no suffering. No worries, no anxieties. Do we live lives? No, we only live worries... some real worries and some only a creation of our minds. We live our ambitions, others' ambitions, we live protocols and etiquette. No where, do we live life.</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Death on the other hand is so liberating..... In death at least, perhaps, is a chance living life. Death, should be celebrated, not mourned..... for it is the best medicine!</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<br /></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Am I ready to die? .......... No....... I am mortified by the thought of death. But at least, I think about it....there are so many a ways to die, that one must be just plain lucky to be alive, let alone be healthy and alive. We all live on borrowed time..... and so, I value life even more......may be understand life a little bit more, EVERYDAY.</blockquote>
</blockquote>
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
May the departed soul rest in peace. </div>
</div>
Jayesh Virahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09375210361612483397noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2012671740504006636.post-73437039432582749822013-08-25T18:22:00.003+05:302013-08-25T18:22:35.242+05:30A Saga Of Love<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Internship, in a way to put it, is in itself an independent phase of life. An era in itself. You are no longer a student, but aren't a doctor either; you are somewhere in between, and sometimes you wonder, if even that is where you belong? There are many a trials and tribulations in the intern's life, frustrated housemen, frustrating schedules, depressing backlogs and demotivating Government Resolutions.<br />
<br />
And yet, just somewhere in between, someone comes around, whose pain supersedes your pain, whose confusion makes you realize how lucky you are, that you at least have a rough idea of what you want in life, someone who you just cant pass off as just another incidence......<br />
<br />
It was my 4 th night shift on the trot in the EMS - I can boast of it and I will, but I wasn't particularly comfortable or happy doing it! The three of us were chatting with each other as we mechanically cannulated IVs in the que of patients lined up ahead of us..... a que which had no end till so far as the eye could see...., simultaneous collecting blood samples 2 EDTA, 2 Heparin and 3 Plain bulbs, filling out forms and pausing our conversations briefly as we shouted out the instructions, simultaneously surveying the arms of the next patient for a good vein. This whole routine was so intense that it occurred almost at a spinal level, the only higher function involved was in our conversations.<br />
<br />
In this din, trolleyed in a patient- not an occurrence of significance in our part of the world. He was a typical patient, cachexic, dehydrated, semiconscious and accompanied by two cash-strapped relatives. I got up and proceeded to his trolley holding a cannula, a spirit soaked cotton swab in my double gloved right hand and a 3-way attached to a syringe in the left, collection bulbs and a strip of dynaplast in the pockets of my apron. The man seemed to be in his late 60s, was bare chested and only a bermuda covered him below the waist. As I set out to do my job I was interrupted rather annoyed by his wife who asked me, "Will he die?"<br />
<br />
This was annoying for two reasons, one, relatives usually asked if patients will survive, not the other way round and two, for the tone of her voice and the way she kept aloof from the patient. But, ours is a profession where personal beliefs and emotions and prejudices are kept in the locker as the white coat is retrieved from it. I did what I had come to do, and directed her to the registrar for ant further queries..... no intern knows how much his involvement in patient care is supposed to be, so prophylactically, it s safe to keep it at a bare minimum.<br />
<br />
The registrar asked her for the history, she annoyed him by her attitude, her obsession with the patient's death and her ever changing answers. No one could afford to spend so much time on one patient, there were 50 others waiting in the que. So, after initiating preliminary treatment the Reg moved on to others, leaving minute intricacies of his history for such later time as would be possible.<br />
<br />
For the next three hours that followed, the female ensured that she was noticed by everyone in the EMS by her mannerisms and high pitched quarrels with a semi-conscious husband. It was becoming very irritating for all present..... when we were racing against time to save lives, she was one we could do without.<br />
<br />
Finally, at around 5 am the que ended, the reg began interrogating her. She enjoyed every bit of feeding us mis-information and backtracking on her previous statements. By now it was clear that the patient has acute renal failure and would require dialysis for the near foreseeable future. Even if we are a government set-up, procedures such as these cost money, howsoever less that it may be. And she replied, "I don't have the money. If you don't give him dialysis, will he die?" We left it at that, your patient, your decision.<br />
<br />
With that had to be asked asked, with all that had to be explained explained, the reg moved on to covering up other formalities. "What is your relation with him?" the Reg asked. The obvious two answers could be sister or wife. And this is where the mystery unfolded. She answered, "Wife...."<br />
<br />
And then after a few seconds, glanced back at the patient, her eyes lit up with a resolution and she murmured as she tried to control a sort of a wicked smile..... "Friend...."<br />
<br />
With a startle, the Reg asked, "Wife or friend? Make up your mind."<br />
"Friend" she confirmed.<br />
<br />
"Is he married?"<br />
"His wife stays here only, In Elphinstone...." she answered, "but he come to me when ever he is sick."<br />
<br />
"Give us his family's address".<br />
"Why? Why do you want his family's address? I have brought him here, I have given my address..."<br />
<br />
"If he dies, we have to inform his family."<br />
<br />
"Ah.....!" That wicked smile smile finally broke through. 'He dies' - this is what she was waiting to hear for so long.... this is why she was pestering us since the time they has wheeled in.<br />
I think, she had received a very straight forward answer for her question, no element for ambiguity. But may be, she had some other calculations in her mind. "One minute..." she said. And walked to the trolley which was barely a meter away. I thought, she wanted to whisper something into the patient's ear. But, she echoed, "Doctor is telling you will die. Who will take your body?"<br />
"My wife" he answered, with a smug.<br />
"Why? She does not take care of you. Who will take your body?" she echoed again.<br />
"My uncle's son" he answered in the same demeanor.<br />
<br />
At this point, our irritation had been blown away so beyond the roof- added with the exhaustion- that this whole incidence started appearing entertaining, so to say. Both of them were past 60, yet they quarreled like newbies in love exchanging sweet little nothings. The question was not of life-death-suffering, it was of establishing authority.<br />
<br />
It was 8am and the next intern came to relieve me. As much as I wanted to stay back and audience this conversation till its end, all my senses were overwhelmed by the prospect of a good shower and the much deprived sleep that would follow.<br />
<br />
On my way home I thought over the conversation and the female's obsession with death. It was a very Barbarian emotion that she harboured. Greed - to get what she wanted, at what ever cost it came or closure, that she finally got the recognition she deserved?.<br />
<br />
His dead body, a trophy symbolizing her victory in the war, where she had lost every battle or, a conquest over what had been stolen from her? Till death did others apart, but he would be her's even after his death!<br />
<br />
This is the beauty of medicine, it isnt just disease and treatment and minting money out of it, it is taking the understanding life and its various aspects to a completely different level. It is understanding the human behaviour- Human behaviour with all its simplicity, with all its complexities, with all its benevolence and malevolence. An opportunity to understand human psyches and emotions.<br />
<br />
A skeptic like me will describe her emotions as extreme possessiveness, at it lowest, sickest level.<br />
A die-hard romantic may counter it as eternal love, an epic romantic tragedy -<i> A Saga Of Love !</i></div>
Jayesh Virahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09375210361612483397noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2012671740504006636.post-80808903076148348232013-05-15T11:21:00.002+05:302013-05-15T11:25:12.010+05:30STATUS DIPLOMATICUS<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<b id="docs-internal-guid-0189f45e-a693-a77d-2248-469fba811eca"></b><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 1; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span id="docs-internal-guid-0189f45e-a693-a77d-2248-469fba811eca"><span style="font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">(The author wishes to thank the voices in his head for continuously guiding and inspiring him and their help in writing this article)</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 1; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span id="docs-internal-guid-0189f45e-a693-a77d-2248-469fba811eca"><span style="font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Status Diplomaticus is a condition of unknown <span class="GINGER_SOFATWARE_correct" ginger_sofatware_markguid="b6f93cdf-353a-4f63-a05d-62ecfaf15c9a" ginger_sofatware_uiphraseguid="71c5dffc-1c27-4778-a9d7-dd0103069888" grcontextid="aetiology:0">aetiology</span>, <span class="GINGER_SOFATWARE_correct" ginger_sofatware_markguid="86c22f12-748b-4163-8679-d43f2e17da82" ginger_sofatware_uiphraseguid="71c5dffc-1c27-4778-a9d7-dd0103069888" grcontextid="characterised:1">characterised</span> by extremely sweet <span class="GINGER_SOFATWARE_correct" ginger_sofatware_markguid="4a3abdc9-76f7-42b6-9f5a-dbdf8895c3a6" ginger_sofatware_uiphraseguid="71c5dffc-1c27-4778-a9d7-dd0103069888" grcontextid="behaviour:2">behaviour</span>, inability to speak ill about others and perpetual Risus Sardonicus. The condition is strongly associated with the Type A personalities.</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<b id="docs-internal-guid-0189f45e-a693-a77d-2248-469fba811eca"><span style="font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></b></div>
<h3 style="text-align: left;">
<b id="docs-internal-guid-0189f45e-a693-a77d-2248-469fba811eca"><span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><u>Historical Background:</u></span></span></b></h3>
<div dir="ltr" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<b id="docs-internal-guid-0189f45e-a693-a77d-2248-469fba811eca"><span style="font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 1; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<b id="docs-internal-guid-0189f45e-a693-a77d-2248-469fba811eca"><span style="font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Status <span class="GINGER_SOFATWARE_noSuggestion GINGER_SOFATWARE_correct" ginger_sofatware_markguid="40166d47-83ce-4017-9e08-67db1f714961" ginger_sofatware_uiphraseguid="0c979a86-fba8-4533-b6ab-b294c2846243" grcontextid="diplomaticus:0">diplomaticus</span><span style="font-weight: normal;"> though </span><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="GINGER_SOFATWARE_correct" ginger_sofatware_markguid="51e707fd-29ed-43a4-8f2a-3d32f1e67b7c" ginger_sofatware_uiphraseguid="0c979a86-fba8-4533-b6ab-b294c2846243" grcontextid="being described:1">being described</span></span><span style="font-weight: normal;"> in literature for the first time has been known to the mankind since ages. It is widely believed that many Egyptian Papyruses dating back to 2500 BC have described the condition, but the claim cannot be ascertained as no one has, however, been able to decipher them. </span></span></b></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 1; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<b id="docs-internal-guid-0189f45e-a693-a77d-2248-469fba811eca"><span style="font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></span></span></b></div>
<h3 style="text-align: left;">
<b id="docs-internal-guid-0189f45e-a693-a77d-2248-469fba811eca"><span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><u>Modern History:</u></span></span></b></h3>
<div dir="ltr" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 1; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span id="docs-internal-guid-0189f45e-a693-a77d-2248-469fba811eca"><span style="font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The attention of the author was drawn to this condition when during one of his surgery OPDs a few years ago when he was still learning his clinical skills, that someone happened to ask, "Are you the CR because of your good PR skills, or do you have good PR skills because you are the CR?" (The author urges the readers to kindly read, understand and most importantly imagine 'Public Relations'.) The lone study was conducted by the author for which no ethics committee permission was deemed necessary and barring a few unsuspecting humans, no animals were involved.</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<b id="docs-internal-guid-0189f45e-a693-a77d-2248-469fba811eca"><span style="font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<b id="docs-internal-guid-0189f45e-a693-a77d-2248-469fba811eca"><span style="font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></b></div>
<h3 style="text-align: left;">
<b id="docs-internal-guid-0189f45e-a693-a77d-2248-469fba811eca"><span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><u>Pathophysiology:</u></span></span></b></h3>
<div dir="ltr" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<b id="docs-internal-guid-0189f45e-a693-a77d-2248-469fba811eca"><span style="font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 1; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span id="docs-internal-guid-0189f45e-a693-a77d-2248-469fba811eca"><span style="font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The precipitating event is usually an involuntary involvement in a conflicting situation usually in early childhood. Each situation precipitates the next. The condition progresses slowly until about adolescence, when it becomes prominent and is characterized by a shift to voluntary involvement (involvementohphilia). It is characterized by periods of remission during which no such voluntary activity is seen, probable mechanisms being fatigue of the CNS pathways or proximity of an examination. It recurrence may be precipitated by involuntary involvement or may be spontaneous. Complete remission is never seen.</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<b id="docs-internal-guid-0189f45e-a693-a77d-2248-469fba811eca"><span style="font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<b id="docs-internal-guid-0189f45e-a693-a77d-2248-469fba811eca"><span style="font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></b></div>
<h3 style="text-align: left;">
<b id="docs-internal-guid-0189f45e-a693-a77d-2248-469fba811eca"><span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><u>Signs and Symptoms:</u></span></span></b></h3>
<div dir="ltr" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<b id="docs-internal-guid-0189f45e-a693-a77d-2248-469fba811eca"><span style="font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 1; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span id="docs-internal-guid-0189f45e-a693-a77d-2248-469fba811eca"><span style="font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The individuals usually present as very informative, friendly and accommodating. They are usually resistant to heat and pressure upto 100 friendPascals. Some variants are non-compromising in varied amounts. They are reliable. Most of them are very non-committal. <span class="GINGER_SOFATWARE_correct" ginger_sofatware_markguid="487a14ca-4d1c-4e4d-9ab1-f72c8bde3baf" ginger_sofatware_uiphraseguid="b8c0c4ce-85c7-4a10-a07b-08d2760fa1cb" grcontextid="Workoholism:0">Workoholism</span> may be seen in most. They usually have "freshness of ideas" and "risk taking <span class="GINGER_SOFATWARE_correct" ginger_sofatware_markguid="73eba1b7-7c3b-4402-bac4-b92513f7129a" ginger_sofatware_uiphraseguid="a8a0e201-4325-418c-921a-f24fad463075" grcontextid="behaviour:0">behaviour</span>". They have a very strong past history of similar events and though it may appear to be easy, it is quite difficult to predict the occurrence of next precipitating event. Inability to divulge clinically significant information is pathognomonic of the condition.</span></span></div>
<span id="docs-internal-guid-0189f45e-a693-a77d-2248-469fba811eca"><br /><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-size: 16px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></span></span>
<br />
<h3 style="font-weight: bold; text-align: left;">
<span id="docs-internal-guid-0189f45e-a693-a77d-2248-469fba811eca">
<span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><u>Laboratory diagnosis:</u></span></span></span></h3>
<span id="docs-internal-guid-0189f45e-a693-a77d-2248-469fba811eca">
</span>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span id="docs-internal-guid-0189f45e-a693-a77d-2248-469fba811eca"><span style="font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
<span id="docs-internal-guid-0189f45e-a693-a77d-2248-469fba811eca">
</span>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span id="docs-internal-guid-0189f45e-a693-a77d-2248-469fba811eca"><span style="font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">1. Demonstration of high <span class="GINGER_SOFATWARE_correct" ginger_sofatware_markguid="b2d280be-21c5-4558-8aca-8a8347bd06e7" ginger_sofatware_uiphraseguid="e066fe46-d2c1-40e7-bb18-943549b7049c" grcontextid="titres:0">titres</span> of self-interest protective antibodies. However, it <span class="GINGER_SOFATWARE_correct" ginger_sofatware_markguid="6e2aef61-0064-4a6b-90a5-c3959efc7a14" ginger_sofatware_uiphraseguid="fa403d19-690b-41e6-86d3-0e2614265f21" grcontextid="doesnot:0">doesnot</span> have any detrimental effects on the well being of those associated with them.</span></span></div>
<span id="docs-internal-guid-0189f45e-a693-a77d-2248-469fba811eca">
</span>
<div dir="ltr" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span id="docs-internal-guid-0189f45e-a693-a77d-2248-469fba811eca"><span style="font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">2. Any demonstration of any iota of commitment in any sample of conversation strongly rules out the diagnosis. It may rarely be false positive.</span></span></div>
<span id="docs-internal-guid-0189f45e-a693-a77d-2248-469fba811eca">
<br /><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-size: 16px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></span><h3 style="font-weight: bold; text-align: left;">
<span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><u>The Differential Diagnosis:</u></span></span></h3>
<div dir="ltr" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Differentials though few, are very important because misdiagnosis can lead to improper categorization of the individual which can have far reaching social and mental consequences.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>1. The chameleon:</i></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Though the initial presentation is similar, they can be differentiated easily whenever a conflicting situation arises. In some lucky cases however, no such condition may occur for years together and they may be well treated.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>2. The opportunist:</i></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span> The condition is <span class="GINGER_SOFATWARE_correct" ginger_sofatware_markguid="fa423e53-0853-4787-b7ca-dcdc90dd6906" ginger_sofatware_uiphraseguid="66b92ead-6326-44ec-b222-9710b4fd567f" grcontextid="characterised:0">characterised</span> by periods of over friendly <span class="GINGER_SOFATWARE_correct" ginger_sofatware_markguid="06016113-1432-451a-b458-a46d45a6fba8" ginger_sofatware_uiphraseguid="66b92ead-6326-44ec-b222-9710b4fd567f" grcontextid="behaviour:1">behaviour</span>, alternating with periods of extreme aggression or selective mutism. Individuals are usually of good nature until a clash of interest develops. This is one condition which is relatively easy to diagnose. They usually have a past history of similar episodes. One interaction with an opportunist will definitely provide understanding that lasts almost a <span class="GINGER_SOFATWARE_correct" ginger_sofatware_markguid="e46d1a8b-fe29-45eb-aacd-5881b4d1ace7" ginger_sofatware_uiphraseguid="c592ea7b-53c8-46d1-b873-3db424a4257f" grcontextid="life time:0">life time</span> in about 95% of the general population.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>3. Chaatooism:</i></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>In India a special type of population is identified. The term '<span class="GINGER_SOFATWARE_correct" ginger_sofatware_markguid="f7eded49-410d-4c6e-baa1-5637240545cc" ginger_sofatware_uiphraseguid="fb450c65-0d39-484f-b481-e50692874f0d" grcontextid="chaatoo:0">chaatoo</span>' roughly translates to '<span class="GINGER_SOFATWARE_correct" ginger_sofatware_markguid="1eb34d31-deb6-45f9-9a97-81e673cdf7a2" ginger_sofatware_uiphraseguid="fb450c65-0d39-484f-b481-e50692874f0d" grcontextid="lickers:1">lickers</span>'. A current study is underway in which extracts from <span class="GINGER_SOFATWARE_correct" ginger_sofatware_markguid="cb4b8a57-6e19-46c6-b287-7b16ce7b714d" ginger_sofatware_uiphraseguid="3bf3c493-761c-4ebf-a31a-865ecf9c4d02" grcontextid="chaatoos:0">chaatoos</span> are being administered to individuals with Sjogren’s syndrome. </span></div>
</span><br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>Diagnosis:<br /> </b></span><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><span class="GINGER_SOFATWARE_correct" ginger_sofatware_markguid="35a5464d-4dd7-4bbf-9248-f1cbba3c1f84" ginger_sofatware_uiphraseguid="dc51bb5f-5e59-461e-9bba-da0937fefb0e" grcontextid="i:0">i</span>. Tailing and trailing are two important signs that are easy to pick up and are pathognomonic of Chaatooism.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><span class="GINGER_SOFATWARE_correct" ginger_sofatware_markguid="c99c4d74-3bd7-4007-aeec-cad896fe6ab3" ginger_sofatware_uiphraseguid="ad9f4730-36e2-400c-83b2-b0f12ca73d94" grcontextid="ii:0">ii</span>. Excessive drooling of saliva, actual or apparent, in the absence of identifiable causes such as Downs Syndrome, Mental Retardation, Cretinism, etc. <span class="GINGER_SOFATWARE_correct" ginger_sofatware_markguid="564cb2b2-6026-4b81-bf99-7cfb1a5737d4" ginger_sofatware_uiphraseguid="5eecfcab-46f2-40c4-b13a-005c04e9eb50" grcontextid="must:0">must</span> raise a suspicion of this disorder.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>Complications: </b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>Though no fatalities have been recorded as of yet, they are a high risk population for aspirating and choking on their own drool and a strong theoretical concern prevails.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>Treatment:</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>Vaseline is preferred treatment of <span style="color: #bf9000;">contact/friction glossitis</span> which may be seen in some cases.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>Nystatin is the Drug of Choice for oral thrush.</b></span><br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>4. <span class="GINGER_SOFATWARE_correct" ginger_sofatware_markguid="8b28d5bd-b6f2-45a5-96a9-a8072fcc46ff" ginger_sofatware_uiphraseguid="d9632b00-a026-4306-9e64-63d9dfe0dbfd" grcontextid="Vaccardia:0">Vaccardia</span> (Latin; <span class="GINGER_SOFATWARE_correct" ginger_sofatware_markguid="08671798-9532-407d-b9db-c7120fd55578" ginger_sofatware_uiphraseguid="d9632b00-a026-4306-9e64-63d9dfe0dbfd" grcontextid="vacca:1">vacca</span>-cow):</i></span></div>
</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>This is a very harmless and benign and innocuous condition. It is again easily differentiated by demonstration of diminished power in the challenging situations test. The power gradually diminishes on consequent exposure to challenging situations. It is usually an acquired condition. </span></div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Multiple conditions may co-exist in the same individual and may manifest themselves in response to varied precipitating conditions. <span class="GINGER_SOFATWARE_correct" ginger_sofatware_markguid="8bae7889-8007-4ca5-9060-25889fdd849e" ginger_sofatware_uiphraseguid="d20a07fc-dfb0-406f-86e5-50e5dbcb92e5" grcontextid="Vaccardia:0">Vaccardia</span> and Status Diplomaticus are pure forms and no association with any other condition has been identified.</span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-size: 16px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></span><br />
<h3 style="font-weight: bold; text-align: left;">
<span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><u>Treatment:</u></span></span></h3>
<div style="font-weight: bold; line-height: 1; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><u><br /></u></span></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Isolated attempts at treatment have been made in the past by administering electrical shocks, psychotherapy in the form of threats and the 'pinching' technique. However, in the author's personal opinion and experience, such drastic modalities need not be attempted. Tender love and care are sufficient.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
</div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-size: 16px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></span><br />
<h3 style="font-weight: bold; text-align: left;">
<span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><u>The Future:</u></span></span></h3>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></b>
The author wishes to start a support group for individuals with Status Diplomaticus and their caretakers. </span><br />
<b><span style="font-size: 16px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">He hopes to receive a Nobel Prize for his contribution towards the understanding of the condition and also hopes that International Diplomaticus Day be celebrated on </span>24th November<span style="font-weight: normal;">, which happens to coincide with his Birthday.</span></span></span></b></div>
</div>
Jayesh Virahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09375210361612483397noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2012671740504006636.post-4945521263575622472012-10-24T20:07:00.000+05:302012-10-24T20:07:06.665+05:30Once Vroomed, Forever Doomed!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Agency FB","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>When we were in pre-school, we
would start our essays with ‘I have many friends, but Ramu is my best
friend.......' Thus, allow me to start this piece with, I have many friends.
Most of them are on the internet and I have never met them per se. Others whom
I have met, are graded as no better than acquaintances, friends and ta..da....
Best friends! This piece of literature is dedicated to one of my better
friends. Let us call him Ramu for ease of communication.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Agency FB","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>So,
about a couple of years ago Ramu fell victim to Cupid. </span><span style="font-family: "Agency FB","sans-serif";">The girl was a very nice girl.
Well behaved and polite. I was very fond of her only till so long as I had
nothing to do with her or as the saying goes around, ‘Dur se hi Ram-Ram’.
Usually I do not bother who my friends hang out with, but come on; we are
talking about Ramu here. And, it nothing less than pained me to see my
simpleton friend being dominated by that pathetic excuse for a human being. In
a typical bollywood movie plot, I would go and tell my friend about my
evaluation of his bride-to-be (I know this fellow and his day dreaming
habits!). Then we would disagree, have a fight, he would perhaps hit me, and
that would end our friendship. Then after the chewing gum had been extracted
off its last bit of flavour and no longer good enough to be blown into even a
bubble, the lady would spit him into a gutter. Then there would be an interval
and after that we would meet in a disco, he would apologise and we would sing a
hit musical number. Friendship rekindled.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FNdlpH0b_C8/UIf80o36IyI/AAAAAAAAAOI/u4l2vTz3rTw/s1600/karan_arjun_95.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FNdlpH0b_C8/UIf80o36IyI/AAAAAAAAAOI/u4l2vTz3rTw/s200/karan_arjun_95.jpg" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: "Agency FB","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Now talking about real life!
There is no background score, no make-up artist or no body double to take a
pasting on my behalf. On top of it, I am not particularly “Hippy” to sing and
dance, let alone visit a disco. So, when he introduced me to her, I did what I do
the best, lie through my teeth. With a smile that I sport so well for all my
emotions, I said, “I am very happy for you!” While at the same time I prayed
that the forces of the universe come to his rescue. Whether it was the mutual
dislike I shared with the Madame, or she was as sly as a fox or just basic
primate instincts on the part of Ramu, I observed that he had become aloof of
all of humankind in general. He started writing poetry, surprising, because in
school poetry recital was in his words,”Yuck!” And now he was doing the yuck,
even more yuckily. Even his actions had become so yucky- he started taking a
bath on a daily basis, his monthly expenses shifted from deodorants to fairness
soaps for men, he became punctual, dressed like an uncle and had a moronishly
happy look on his face all the time. All this pain I suffered, with a smile on
a face. What fate had come upon a high IQed beautiful mind? What had that witch
(you can use b as well) turned him into? Ramu, as we had known for 20 years,
was no more. But, like the old mother in old Hindi movies who would wear black
clothes and utter “Mere Karan-Arjun aayenge”, I kept consoling myself.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Agency FB","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Agency FB","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Agency FB","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-f2NV98tg0tM/UIf7xEGgujI/AAAAAAAAAOA/HqTNVKNO5cw/s1600/Baba+Bangali+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-f2NV98tg0tM/UIf7xEGgujI/AAAAAAAAAOA/HqTNVKNO5cw/s200/Baba+Bangali+copy.jpg" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: "Agency FB","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Then one day, Boom-Boom-Boomer
was launched in India. It was juicier and had a new flavour. And Big-Bubblehead
soon fell to disrepute, lost his favour with Cruella (actually she lost
interest) and into the drains he was cast even before he could realise what had
struck him. I knew this day was to come. I knew it because I am a very innocent
little boy and God always answers well behaved children’s prayers. “Duaa ki
shakti”. I did what any good friend would do in this situation; enjoy the sight
of cockroaches crawl all over him. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Agency FB","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-K5EqdkyGCP8/UIf7W43ZCVI/AAAAAAAAAN4/_7CTPiAxMAA/s1600/Makkhi-movie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-K5EqdkyGCP8/UIf7W43ZCVI/AAAAAAAAAN4/_7CTPiAxMAA/s200/Makkhi-movie.jpg" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: "Agency FB","sans-serif";"><br /></span><br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Agency FB","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Agency FB","sans-serif";">But
poor Ramu was still love struck. I saw the Hindi version of Makkhi. Innovative
and all that, but what I realised at the end of it was that the poor love
smitten sole of the protagonist has been doomed for all eternity. He dies only
to be reborn as a Maakhi. Neither will he ever let the girl settle in life nor
will he get any action himself! He is a drone bee if you realised! </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Agency FB","sans-serif";">I
took him in my fold on his path to rehabilitation. One day he stopped playing
the guitar, no more poetry. Such a relief! One could look at his face and tell
what all stuff he had eaten over the past three days at least. Karan-Arjun had
reincarnated! Ramu was back.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Agency FB","sans-serif";">The
reason I write this piece is that very recently I saw Madam Maya with my
friend. Yes it was raining and the bus stop was all crowded, so I pray that it
be nothing more than an awkward encounter. But the buzz also doing the rounds
is that there may have been some sparks flying and the irrational romantics are
happy. I am afraid that my greatest nightmare is coming true. The dung cake is
attracting the flies! Poor Ramu does not realise however that, he isn’t the
only fly hovering around this piece of manure. But maakhis do not have such
IQs, definitely not drones! They just live to serve the queen, do all the
donkey work and die without even expecting any reward.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Agency FB","sans-serif";">Once bitten twice shy is an age
old idiom, perhaps I can add a few more</span></i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Agency FB","sans-serif";">Once smitten, always ‘bee’ten! </span></i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Agency FB","sans-serif";">Once vroomed, forever doomed!</span></i></div>
<br /></div>
Jayesh Virahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09375210361612483397noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2012671740504006636.post-29014140845759101902012-08-20T14:58:00.000+05:302012-08-20T14:58:24.010+05:30Misunderstanding<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Apu and Kappu were very good friends. They were so close that everyone thought that perhaps they would never be able to live without each other. Then one day something happened and they ceased to be friends. Everyone said they had a misunderstanding of sorts. They accepted they had a misunderstanding of sorts, yet they never took any effort to resolve it.</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ey_kTJ36BkA/UDIDBFztFlI/AAAAAAAAANg/epeaaijHVBo/s1600/sholay.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="273" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ey_kTJ36BkA/UDIDBFztFlI/AAAAAAAAANg/epeaaijHVBo/s320/sholay.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">When I heard of this story, I was pretty amused. Among the many things that I believe in (which includes that The BMC had bribed the Rain Gods this year to have scanty downpour so that potholes on the roads do not create potholes in their lives and that all politicians are clean, its just the whistle blowers that make them corrupt and that UP has a future and so on and so forth) is that there can never be misunderstandings.</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">You always understand what you want to understand! There is a saying in medicine, "The eyes do not see, what the mind does not know". Similarly, the ears hear only what the mind wants to hear! So all this misunderstanding business is just hokum. Unless you have a distorted view and your ideas are rotten, you probably cant misunderstand anything. Bang your head on the wall if you don't know of a conversation which included,"I was joking! You got it all wrong." Seriously, how dumb could you have been to not have gotten a joke! Or perhaps, it was your own mind pulling off a dirty joke.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">So, even I have friends who are or should I say were like Apu and Kappu. In fact, all of us have at some point in time been either Apu or Kappu or would know of someone in such a dilemma. But in this case, both Apu and Kappu aren't willing to admit that there may have been a misunderstanding. Neither do they hold any one else responsible for the strife. Intelligent people one would say! Yet, invariably they expect me to be the mediator and help them reach a settlement.</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Two things work against this. One, my extreme noteworthy self obsession. As huge as my self obsession is, I am sure that in same remote village in India when some kid does not share his toys his mother tells him "Share beta share, nahi to JV aa jaayega!" And I have drawn a lot of flank from both Apu and Kappu for not doing my bit to make matters as rosy as before. But, I really don't see the point in this. I fail to understand how one superman's obsession can cause so much harm to two people he holds near to him.</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Second, I am a bad mediator. See, I am training to be a doctor. To heal wounds. I am no lawyer that I'll be able to negotiate an arbitration. I know I have great abilities and I can do almost anything in this world, but this is one thing that is not in my hands. Perhaps wen you decide to call it off entirely or one of you gives in and has a bruised ego, come to me, I'll heal you. But till then, I am no good.</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Despite my limitations, I did try, not just once but twice. And badly failed on both occasions. And also had to bear the brunt for making matters worse. As if I hadn't warned you! It may again partly be because we usually discuss such matters over food. And given the perennial state of inflation in this our country, the value of money has depreciated. You get that same sense of fullness when you go out to a diner anymore. So, it is but just obvious that I would attempt to draw out some free entertainment along with the food.</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Just a parting word to all Apus and Kappus, the best way out, is to not involve many people. All of them may not be truthful enough as me to acknowledge that they gain happiness out of your sticky wicket situation. Its your problem and you oughtta find a way out of it, if you want to that is</span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">!</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I write this blog not because I am a stone hearted, </span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">devoid of emotions narcissist, but because I am amused at the very thought of how you have managed to get yourself in this soup!</span></span></div>
</div>
Jayesh Virahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09375210361612483397noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2012671740504006636.post-34596687225577001492012-08-16T22:50:00.000+05:302012-08-16T23:02:47.205+05:30Butterflies...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Its been almost a year and a half since I posted a blog ‘<a href="http://jayeshvira.blogspot.in/2011/07/before-alarm-goes-off.html">Before the alarm goes off</a>’. That was when my final rotation had begun. And on 17<sup>th</sup>
August 2012, will begin the final posting of my life as a MBBS student. Yeah,
internship is still pending, but then things will never be the same. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Even as I write this with a heap of Harrison and Ghai and
Dutta and what not notes and short textbooks and MCQ books staring in my face,
the butterflies seem to be multiplying like guinea pigs! In fact, wasn't I
alright a few minutes ago, until I checked the calendar! Time has flown faster
than I thought, I must confess.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What makes me envious are the juniors in the corridors planning
their AIIMS trip, freshers in the labs marveling at the beautiful hues of
hematoxilin and eosin and getting thrilled at feeling the pulse for the first
time. Come-on wasn't it just yesterday that I step foot in this institute, the
dream of my life finally fulfilled, and won't it be like tomorrow that it will
get over and today is just hurrying away! God, make a Rowdy Rathod, so that I
can rewind and replay those moments, good, bad and worst, all over again to my heart's
satisfaction. But then, I doubt if I ever will be satisfied?</div>
<br /></div>
Jayesh Virahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09375210361612483397noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2012671740504006636.post-170899659144913342012-07-10T12:00:00.000+05:302012-07-10T12:05:49.162+05:30Sarcasm<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN">Off late I have
been enjoying The Big Bang Theory. And the character which appeals the most to
me is Sheldon. The high IQ part, love of Physics and know all attitude apart,
another similarity which I find with the character, is our innocence when it
comes to decoding Sarcasm.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN">For a very long
time I was in the dark as to what the word SARCASM meant itself. I first came
across the term in my 6<sup>th</sup> standard when while reading a writer’s
biopic, came a sentence, “He was a master of sarcasm.” Sarcasm? What was that?
An average student would have either asked the teacher what it meant or better
still just not bother about it as he didn’t bother about the other things that
he didn’t understand. But, I thought I’ll look it up in the dictionary when I
reach home. Then in the Geography lecture that followed, the teacher spoke
about SAARC (South Asian Association for Regional Co-operation). Being the
analytical and inquisitive mind that I was since a tender age I figured out
that in English all religions end with ‘ism’. For eg., Jainism, Buddhism,
Hinduism, Judaism, Zorostrianism and so on. So, SARCASM was the RELIGION OF THE
SAARC PEOPLE. I didn’t discuss this with anyone, wanting to selfishly hoard the
knowledge to myself as many of my colleagues still do.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN">Then I entered
medicine. This field has been a life changer for me in more ways than one. In
medicine I learnt that anything that ends with an ‘asm’ is a disease. Eg.,
spasm, neoplasm etc. So, when I was the Editor-in-Chief of the Medical College
Magazine last year and some of the members on the editorial board suggested
that we add a section on Sarcasm in the magazine, I realised that in the light
of the recent advances in vocabulary, as sarcasm has an ‘asm’ not ‘ism’ it is a
disease and as almost everyone that you see at in my college is into some or
the other research, perhaps they had researched into sarcasm and wanted to
publish their findings. OK, I said. Why not? This also cleared my long lasting
doubt as to what ‘being sarcastic’ was. I always felt bad, that despite trying
to search for literature on the Practices and Believes of Sarcasm and finding
none, people easily used phrases such as ‘stop behaving sarcastic’, ‘very
sarcastic’ etc. How did they know so much about the concepts of Sarcasm, a long
lost religion when it wasn’t even being taught in school or preached somewhere?
Now, if I were to consider Sarcasm as a disease, then being Sarcastic made
sense, just as being spastic made sense. That writer that I had read about was
a biologist who had researched on sarcasm and also written some novels, like
most of us nowadays. (I thought it was related to sarcoidosis)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN">Just by the way,
when Baba Ramdev was enjoying his claim to fame, for a short time I also
believed that Sarcasm was described in Yoga as Sarc-Aasan, and when I had gone
on a tour to South India, I thought Sarcasm was a Mallu delicacy like Rasam,
Uttapam, Payappam, Prasadam etc. etc.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN">So, we had a full
section dedicated to sarcasm and my editors handpicked the articles for the
section. And when the book was released, a large chunk of people came
complaining, ‘There is no sarcasm in sarcasm.’ A couple of contributors even
came and said, ‘Jayesh, how could you put my article in sarcasm. It was
intended for philosophy, not sarcasm!’ To this my standard reply would be, “I
know. Even I didn’t find anything in your article sarcastic, but the editors
made the choices.” I mean they were not research papers, but the editors would
have labelled me a dictator if I had objected to this decision of theirs.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN">But, the final
nail in the coffin came last week and my eyes opened and I finally got down
opening the dictionary and looking up what sarcasm actually meant. I’ll
describe the chain of events for you. There is this old foe turned friend in
college. Old foe, because we were competitors in 12<sup>th</sup> and she wouldn’t
be particularly happy on seeing my usually delirious devilish demeanour (I know
because she was quite vocal about it then as she is now), turned friend,
because as luck would have it, we were batch mates in the first year and she
sort of relied on me to pass her exams. Not that I showed her my papers, but
she somehow managed to take a peek into them anyway. So, old foe, you can’t
trust. She would encourage me to write about people in our college and comment
on all the gossip that was going on. While at the same time, she went about <i>bhadkaoing</i>
all those people and <i>uksaoing</i> them to slap me, until a weak hearted human being finally fell
for the temptation last week. As I walked into her and a common friend to whom
a blog has been dedicated, she declared to me what she was doing all these
years when I considered her a friend and even before I could say anything, I
had five fingers imprinted on my left cheek, courtesy the other friend as he
declared, “Jayesh, how could you have written such things about me.” One more
had come up to the Gymkhana the other day, in a manner that was quite
reminiscent of those movies of 70s & 80s when the hero (usually Dharmendra)
would enter into the villain’s den, unarmed and alone, shout “<i>Kutte-kamine, maa
ka doodh piya hai to bahar nikal</i>”, tell him a few things right-left and
centre, enrage him, then about 2000 strong <i>fauj</i> of the villain, with fully
loaded guns and grenades would attack him, and with a few acrobatic skills and a
fighting technique with sound effects of ‘<i>bhishum bhishum</i>’ would kill them
all and leave, his anger avenged. Luckily, this time no one got killed, but he
did speak to me requesting me “to stop this non sense”, in some not so polite
words. The next day onward, I decided to be a little careful about what I
commented. So, while I usually am very straight faced and do not hold myself
back even while making nasty comments, and refrain from saying polite things as
a rule, I toned down a bit and commented “Nice photo” on the profile pic of one
of my friends. I expected the reply would be, “Thank you JAYESH”. Instead I
got, “Are you being sarcastic?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-IN">This is what
people have begun to think of me. Even Anu Kapoor calls me a ‘Sarcastic sperm’
now. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7zKiQLSSDy4/T_vLF7d1RAI/AAAAAAAAANI/GEWyFHZIBiI/s1600/anu-kapoor-annu-vicky-donor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="203" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7zKiQLSSDy4/T_vLF7d1RAI/AAAAAAAAANI/GEWyFHZIBiI/s320/anu-kapoor-annu-vicky-donor.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span lang="EN-IN">Just think, if every discussion is to be viewed sarcastically the
following exchange of little sweet nothings that I heard while I was sneaking
up on the lovebirds in my college will have a completely different meaning,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN">Girl:
Do you love me?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN">Boy: Yes. Yes, I love you.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN">Girl: How much?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN">Boy: I cannot tell you.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN">Girl: Till when will you love me?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN">Boy: Till death do us apart.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN">Girl: What will you do if I die? (Didn’t
you hear, he said the love lasts only till death do you apart.)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN">Boy: I will go mad. (Seriously???)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN">Girl: You love only me?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN">Boy: Yes, only you. And no one else. <i>Tumhari
Qassam</i>! (Take the hint lady!)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN">Girl: When will I meet your mother?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN">Boy: There is no need. I have told her I
will bring home the girl of my choice.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN">Girl: What do you like about me?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN">Boy: Nothing in particular, everything in
general. Ask me if there is something I do not like about you.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN">Girl: If an apsara came down and offered
you all the wealth in the world, will you leave me for her?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN">Boy: Leave you. For her????? Never.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN">Girl: What do I have that an apsara does
not have?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN">The further conversation took a course that
is not suitable for a blog meant for family viewing.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN">I have always been truthful about my
opinion. After hunting down Chinkaras and getting drunk and running their cars
over poor people sleeping on pavements, don’t you forgive people in the name of
Being Human? I have always called smart people smart without intending it to
mean dumb. Is it my fault, if you read too much in between the lines and think
about yourself the other way round? Anyway, if ever you have felt about
yourself that way after reading my blog, intentionally or unintentionally, I
apologise. Please forgive me.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YIGriIzhN1Y/T_vLlZ0tH3I/AAAAAAAAANQ/TLtGpNY0S5I/s1600/Sheldon-Cooper-sheldon-cooper-24678132-316-298.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YIGriIzhN1Y/T_vLlZ0tH3I/AAAAAAAAANQ/TLtGpNY0S5I/s1600/Sheldon-Cooper-sheldon-cooper-24678132-316-298.jpg" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
</div>
Jayesh Virahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09375210361612483397noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2012671740504006636.post-41224635256883309572012-06-09T14:31:00.002+05:302012-06-09T14:32:45.100+05:30A-JO: The Love Story of A Cute and A Serious Boy.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span lang="EN-US">This is the legend of A-Jo and the love of
his life, Baby.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<b><u><span lang="EN-US">1942
B. C., Mesopotamia:</span></u></b></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">The times
in Mesopotamia were changing. The glory and the prosperity were past their peak
a long time ago. The hardships that had come upon the subjects had forced a
great amount of civilian unrest. Riding on a legacy of peaceful and prosperous
existence that spanned over millennia, the administrators of Mesopotamia found
themselves incompetent to tide over the crisis. Some serious steps were
required to be taken and quickly. For Mesopotamia, the time was running out
quickly.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">The crisis
of Mesopotamia had started a decade ago with the state of Avon declaring its
independence after the central army of Mesopotamia failed to secure its gates
against the invading Trichons of the North. The Trichons of the North had
abducted the Low Chancellor of Avon, Teea and the subjects of Avon had demanded
Teea be rescued. But as the constitution of Mesopotamia placed the state before
the rulers, this was not to be. And this led to Avon declaring its
independence. Many other neighbour states who feared an invasion by the raiding
Trichons of the North too declared their independence. Thus, cut off from its most
of its resourceful regions, Mesopotamia was under tremendous stress.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“What
should we do now?” asked the High Chancellor of Mesopotamia.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“We need to
do something, I think!” reiterated the Chancellor of Mesopotamia.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“We should
consult someone.” said he High Chancellor of Mesopotamia.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“The Oracle
of Jay had predicted the crisis of Mesopotamia a thousand years ago!”
reiterated the Chancellor of Mesopotamia.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“But no one
knows where the Oracle is now. The founding Fathers of Mesopotamia had hidden
in some undisclosed location. And the boundaries of Mesopotamia have greatly
expanded since then.....” said the High Chancellor of Mesopotamia.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“Yeah, and
greatly shrunken also”, chucked the Chancellor of Mesopotamia.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“Whatever!
We need to find that Oracle. It’s our only hope.” said the High Chancellor of
Mesopotamia.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“Guards,
take out our torches and load our ships. Today we said to find the lost Oracle
of Jay.” said the Chancellor of Mesopotamia.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“We cannot
go! We are the administrators of Mesopotamia. And also that we are old.....
None the less, in order to correctly express the gravity of the situation, we
must call this a very High Level State Sponsored Secret Mission. We will have
to appoint someone to do this.”, reiterated the High Chancellor of Mesopotamia.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“But, how
will we find the right person to find the Oracle of Jay?” asked the Chancellor
of Mesopotamia.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“Just the
same way as our founding fathers founded Mesopotamia. We will leave at night
and travel through the darkness with blindfolded eyes and whosoever we see in
the morning first will be our man.”, declared the High Chancellor of
Mesopotamia.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“Or
woman.....” chucked the Chancellor of Mesopotamia.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">And so they
set sail. The night was spooky. And the Chancellor's constant chucking
throughout the night also contributed to freaking the High Chancellor out of
his skin. Finally, the day dawn. The duo unfolded their eyes. And stay in the
midst of the unknown land waiting to glimpse upon someone. Waiting for their
hope.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">At a
distance the High Chancellor saw a young man in his early twenties walking
alone, whistling a sweet tone. “Good morning Young man. We are the High
Chancellor of Mesopotamia and the Chancellor of Mesopotamia.”, said the High
Chancellor of Mesopotamia. </span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“Sire, I am
A-Jo. I am a cute and a serious boy!” replied the young man.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“A-Jo, the
entire fate of Mesopotamia depends on you. You have to find for us the Oracle
of Jay”, said the High Chancellor of Mesopotamia.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“Okay.....
How does it look, where is it?” asked A-Jo.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“Well, if
we knew all that stuff we would have got it ourselves.....” chucked the
Chancellor of Mesopotamia.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“We will
wait for you here so that you don't have difficulty finding us later”, said the
High Chancellor of Mesopotamia.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“It seems
like a dangerous voyage. Searching unknown things in unknown lands. What if I
don't return.......” asked A-Jo.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“Well then,
we won't wait for you.......” chucked the Chancellor of Mesopotamia.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“Huh...!”
exclaimed A-Jo.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“Young man,
we'll settle all that after you come back. And think positive. The nature calls
for you. Remember, we want only the Oracle, you can keep the ruins of the war!”
said the High Chancellor of Mesopotamia.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“Ok, but
what if I run of supplies on my journey?” asked A-Jo.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“Tell them,
you are on a very High Level State Sponsored Secret Mission.”, replied the High
Chancellor of Mesopotamia.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“And how
will I know when I find the Oracle of Jay?”</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“Just trust
your instincts.” replied the High Chancellor of Mesopotamia.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">And so,
A-Jo set on a journey after which his life would never be the same.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">After
travelling for 2 days, A-Jo was finally out of liquor. He went to a shop and
demanded liquor. The keeper gave him and when asked to pay, A-Jo replied, “I am
A-Jo. I am on a very High Level State Sponsored Secret Mission. The State will
pay you.” And so, the keeper handed him over to the state authorities.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“Who are
you?” asked the Counsel.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“I am A-Jo.
I am on a very High Level State Sponsored Secret Mission.”</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“What
non-sense. And which state is it?”</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“The State
of Mesopotamia!”</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“Guards,
Mesopotamia sends drunken spies to Trichon. Imprison him in the invasion tower.
They will have to pay for this....... Another invasion is on..... In three days
we will invade Mesopotamia.”</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">In the
detention tower, A-Jo was thrown into a cell with only one window. The room was
dark and clumsy but for a narrow beam of moon light entering in through the
window. A-Jo had become sober by now. “Who--- Who's there? I am A-Jo. I am on a
very High Level State Sponsored Secret Mission of Mesopotamia.”, he asked.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“I am Teea,
the Low Chancellor of Avon.” was the reply.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">A-Jo looked
towards the narrow beam of moonlight flooding the clumsy cell. And what he saw
stunned him. He lost many a heart beats. From the shadows emerged a figure.
Flawless fair colour. Hair that shimmered in the moon light. And did I forget
to mention that he had never seen bigger or more beautiful eyes than those. The
gait, majestic and classy. A-Jo was swept off his feet. He moved closer. Extending
his hand, he touched the beautiful face feeling the warm breath.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“You are so
beautiful. What can I call you?” wondered A-Jo loudly.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“Baby!
That's sort of a pet name.” replied Teea.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“Oh Baby,
you are the most beautiful creation of the creator. All my life, I have dreamed
of someone like you. If only I could make you mine?” A-Jo excaimed.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“In fact,
you can!” replied Teea. “If we escape from here, you can. Finders keepers!”</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“That’s
great. But how do we escape from here?” asked A-Jo.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“Well, you
seem to be the chosen one. So, you figure out.” replied Teea.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“Have you
never tried to escape?” asked A-Jo.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“Well, no.
Why should I? I am the Low Chancellor of Avon. Isn't Mesopotamia supposed to
send someone over to rescue me? This is such a moot question. And also I don't
know horse-riding.”, replied Teea.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“O......,
but for this beauty, I would never rescue you. And by the way Avon has been
independent for over a decade now and so technically speaking its Avon's job to
rescue you, not Mesopotamia's.” replied A-Jo.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“My God, I
am ruined! That invasion has brought about so much bad...” cried Teea.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“Do you
care educating me a bit more about the invasion?” asked A-Jo.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“OK. You
must be aware that Avon has been known to produce the finest species of horses,
the Avonian Raptors. Unknown to us, some of our Raptors had escaped our stable
and run into the Trichon territory to the North. The Trichons, now craved for
the Raptors. And so they invaded Avon and took away the Raptors.” replied Teea.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“Then why
did they capture you?” asked A-Jo.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“Well,
their leadership felt that I would look very lowly of the mighty Trichons to
invade only for horses. So, as the Head of State they took me away as well,
aiming to bargain me for a few more raptors and extending the olive stick. But,
now I can understand, Avon and Mesopotamia are themselves in a mess, so nothing
has happened. Bloody bureaucracy!” sighed Teea.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“I heard
them planning to invade Mesopotamia again in three days! What could they want
now?” asked A-Jo.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“Well, as
far as the rumours go, they are upset over Mesopotamia sending over drunk
spies! Or, in untrained hands, Raptors are difficult to control. They must have
run off and now they want more.” said Teea.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“Then why
don't they trade you for some Raptors as planned, rather than invade?” asked
A-Jo.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“You see,
Avon is independent of Mesopotamia now. I was an administrator for Mesopotamia.
Now, in Avon nobody cares who I am. Dirty politics!” replied Teea “Now I get
why this tower is also so sparsely guarded.”</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“So,
escaping will not be difficult. There is the Great Bear”, said A-Jo pointing at
the stars from the window “So, that is the north and Mesopotamia is in the
South-East. We have directions. All we need is time and speed.”</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“Well, you’re
getting lucky!” exclaimed Teea “Baby likes you, and he is the fastest Raptor
I've known.” replied Teea.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“Then, what
are we waiting for? Hop on. Let's go Baby!!! Yee-haaa!” cried A-Jo.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">Surely,
Baby proved that he was the fastest horse on Earth. By the time the guards
could alert the borders of the escape, the three had already galloped out of
sight. By noon the next day, they met the High Chancellor and the Chancellor of
Mesopotamia. </span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“Here's our
man!” exclaimed the High Chancellor of Mesopotamia.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“And his
woman....” chucked the Chancellor of Mesopoamia.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“No, this
is my Baby! And this is the erstwhile Low Chancellor of Avon.”, replied A-Jo.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">Mesopotamia
prepared its armies.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“I want you
two, to quickly go to Avon and get them on our side.”, said the High Chancellor
of Mesopotamia.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“But she is
worthless there. Avon is independent of Mesopotamia and no one gives her a
damn!” protested A-Jo.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“Go there
and tell the people that the proponents of Independent Avon had you abducted
and Mesopotamia has rescued you. Come on, I expected better from you! You
aren't new to this....” said the High Chancellor of Mesopotamia, looking at
Teea.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“Dirty
politics.....” chucked the Chancellor of Mesopotamia.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">And with
that Avon and her sister states resolved to rejoin Mesopotamia. The Trichons
surrendered when they heard of Mesopotamia preparing an army. Thus, the borders
of Mesopotamia expanded even in the North.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“But, the
kid didn't get us the Oracle of Jay, and yet he kept the ruins of the war....”
chucked the Chancellor of Mesopotamia.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“That is
the Legend of the Oracle of Jay! It always appears when Mesopotamia is in
danger. Let us say, we have hidden it somewhere safe, only to be searched when
Mesopotamia is in danger ever again!” said the High Chancellor of Mesopotamia.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">“Legendary...!”
chucked the Chancellor of Mesopotamia.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span lang="EN-US">A-Jo and Baby lived happily ever after.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
</div>Jayesh Virahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09375210361612483397noreply@blogger.com0