Once Vroomed, Forever Doomed!

                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.

                So, about a couple of years ago Ramu fell victim to Cupid. 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.

                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.

                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.

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!

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.

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.

Once bitten twice shy is an age old idiom, perhaps I can add a few more

Once smitten, always ‘bee’ten!

Once vroomed, forever doomed!

Rambo's Wife

I am not a great fan of action movies. They give me goosebums and things of that sort. Also, they have a lot of violence and immoral behaviour depicted, which is not good for innocent minds as mine. So, I general I refrain from viewing such movies. But, for some reason, Rambo is a series that I have appreciated for long. Two reasons mainly, it is one which has a sole to it, not merely useless mindless bloodshed. Two, Sly's body is one of which I can only dream of having. His bloody biceps are bigger than my waist (which right now is about 34, but estimated to cross 40 by the end of this year. .. . .And with that my waist will be twice my age!!)

Some of Rambo's characteristics which I would like to impress upon your malleable innocent minds are as follows:-

1. He is great human being.
2. Despite all the phenotypical characteristics which make him a “ dude” (click to know more), he is not! Infact, he is a gem of a human being.
3. He has principles and leads a disciplined life.
4. He is ever ready to help.
5. Undying spirit.
6. Unmatched power.
7. But, because of the many years that he's passed as a prisoner of war, he cant adjust to civil life. He still thinks, he is in a prisoner of war camp, and continues with his Barbarian techniques.

Enough of general knowledge, now lets start the show!

During one of the OPDs when I was posted in gynaecology, came a female with lower abdominal pain and weird symptoms which could not be attributable to any of the normal medical conditions.

• Medicine is a subject of signs and symptoms. Signs – are what doctors elicit. That is why we are great!
• Symptoms- what patients give. Very important. Because in addition to telling us the medical problems that the patient may be suffering from, it also tells us the extent to which a patient can be a problem! ( I need not clarify about this more. Those want more in depth explanation can contact me personally.
• 
  
• It is very easy: Just before going to sleep, close your eyes, concentrate on the point midway between your two eyes till it starts paining, and then shout loudly: Ahhhhhhhhh...!!!! I shall come in your dreams and meet you. I havent missed an appointment till date. Sometimes I sneak in uninvited as well. People have labelled such experiences as night mares).

This lady had much more to say, then she was actually sharing. As my proffessor is very experienced and considerate towards patients, she immediately realised the gravity of the situation. I have over the years realised that the Shakespearean proverb:- “they also serve; who only stand and stare”, is indeed very true. In fact a large part of one's learning is from observing how to do, rather than rushing in to do it yourself. And just as you are observing a beautiful photograph in the background (that photo smiles back at you each time you look at it), I love to observe how people communicate. It is a tremendous experience!

The female was happily married since a decade or so. She had about 3 to 4 children. Her family life was good. No monetary constraints. Came from a well to do back ground. Had a 'loving' husband. (Very important because not many women think that their husbands love them). Had a good amount of education. Watched TV serials as other women. Didn't know any thing about cricket. Basically, a normal Indian happy housewife. And yet one could make out that some thing some where was wrong.

I opened her file. My God! This lady had been to every OPD in our hospital over the last week. We inquired further. She had been an admission in our psychiatry wards a couple of years ago. OK.... the drama begins now.

Sorry for deviating from the topic a little. But, this is important. Doctors are being beaten up as a routine in civic hospitals now a days. Its like a trend of sort. But, given an opportunity to beat up someone, I would want to clean my hands on CHEMISTS.

Just owning a drug shop, does not give a right to start dispensing medicine. They give away non-sense drugs for illness. Perhaps even nonsensier than what second year students in medicine write in their Pharmacology papers, when they mix up. On several occasions, I have counseled patients who have come to chemists to buy drugs for their illnesses to see a doctor. The most universal answer which I get is that the doctor will prescribe them “heavy drug”. I fail to understand what heavy is. “We will go only when the illness becomes incurable.” Wow! This you tell me standing outside the busiest hospital in this part of the world! And then we will miraculously cure you or you can beat us up for your mistakes!

Coming back, this lady had undergone a medical termination of pregnancy few months ago. Now again, as she conceived for the nth time, (she thought she had conceived, no reports were available though) promptly took a self medication for abortion. Then, as she felt she should not have taken drugs, stopped them and didn't complete the course. She may have been in bad luck for her suicide attempt did not succeed. And now she was worried, and we were even more worried.

Something unusual that I observed in the case of this woman was her supportive husband. While my general observation has been that females come to the hospital usually with their children, sisters or mother in laws, this lady had come with her husband. Not only on that day, but for the entire week her husband had been escorting her through our busy corridors. In fact, he had been very supportive of her during her psychiatric treatment as well. Very rare, as in India, psychiatric problems are not considered medical illnesses. Families estrange their kin. Sad, but true! But, this fellow was a gem of a gentle man. Hence, that loving in the inverted commas earlier. More reasons towards the end.

I went out to see her husband. He presented to me as a very good man. Neat in his atire. Tidy in his mannerisms. Very polite to talk with. Barring that disgusting odour of gutkha emanating from his mouth, every thing seemed fine. Quite unlike many relatives of other patients now-a-days. He answered all my questions calmly. He gave me all the information I wanted of him. Shared with me every minute detail of his wife's treatment history.

I talked to him about his job profile, his income, his spending, his children. Their behaviour, their spending.I looked around his neck. It was full of threads. Spiritually he seemed very staunch. From the pictures hanging from those neck-laces, I realised that he was an ardent follower of Nithyanand Baba. Why he has so many children? How many more he intends to have? He said till God gave him. Because God had been kind to him, by refusing any he didn't want to make Him unhappy. Finally, certain things were not in his control! Interesting character he appeared.

As I was continued our discussion, a glanced upon his handset. Oh my God! He was still stuck up with an old black and white model. A simplified version of the conversation is given below:

“नया फ़ोन क्यूँ नहीं लेते ?” I asked.

“नहीं साब ,अपना काम इसी में हो जाता है ”

“पर दुनिया तो आगे निकल गयी है ”

“नहीं साब ये सब सर का दुखवा है. उसकी तकलीफ क्या है ?”

“उसकी तकलीफ ,आपका फोने है !”

Shocked that he was at this comment. His phone! How could his phone be causing such problems? I mean, from his look I could decipher that he was completely lost. Lost for the next question, lost for the answer as well.

“साब , नहीं समझा ”

“नासमझी ही तो आपकी तकलीफ है ”!

“पर फ़ोन कैसे  ...... ...? आप ही समझिये न.  ये सब फ़ोन कैसे कर सकता है ? आप तो डॉक्टर है. आप को तो पता है. फ़ोन कैसे ”?

“आपको नहीं पता ? ”

“नो आईडिया !”

“वो ही तो ! Get idea!!”

The answer was – her 'loving' husband.

If you did not understand any part of this conversation, meet me in person by the method described earlier.

The poor lady was suffering at the hands of her husband. The man on first look, appeared quite sensitive. Loving and caring! He was considerate enough to spend a whole week with his wife doing rounds in the hospital. But, due to the level of his ignorance, disbelieves, and an element of arrogance, just wasn't ready to mend his ways. Not ready to accept, that the answer lies with him. He was a prisoner of his own self and that was the reason why he persisted with his Barbarian believes and techniques. Ruthless and shameless.

He is what I would call a 'Rambo' in real life.