AMMA JARA MERI TARAF DEKHO......

          This incident happened during my ophthalmology end post exam.

          My patient was a 65year old widow, hailing from UP. She had presented with a complaint of watery discharge from her eyes and gradual loss of vision. Usually staying in her village, she had come to Mumbai for her treatment and was currently lodged with her son and BAHURANI. It was the same BAHURANI and her JETHANI who had accompanied her to the OPD.

          So, I began. I introduced myself. All was fine untill I told her that I was a medical STUDENT and she was the one who was my exam case. I prefer being honest from the very begging, let all doubts be cleared initially, else should my mistake make a patient believe that doctors in my set up are not competent enough and lead to complete loss of trust. Finally trust is what bonds the patient to the doctor!

          I do not like referring her as a case, so I'll refer to her hence forth as “Amma”, as that is what I was actually addressing her. So, Amma became very defensive. Her Bahurani and her Jethani were taken aback by the revelation. “Oh my God”, they thought (I am the inner voice, remember) “What disease has Amma got, that this person is examining her for an exam!!”

“Pakka dal me kuch kala hai”, grumbled one of them. And they grumbled some more, most of which I do not remember. Perhaps they had realised, that I was going to be an extended session. They tried their level best to try to get Amma away. But, it seemed that the old lady was in a mood to defy them today.

Soon, they began sending her visual instructions from the corner of their eyes. I have seen many a women do these. It’s surprising how only they can do these; and more so, decipher them as the actions remain the same in every situation but the inference changes! But, little did they know, that Amma had diminished peripheral vision, and they most probably were in a blind area for her. This gave me a lot of courage. “Divine intervention” I thought!!

          I continued asking her questions, she continued answering them, unwillingly though. For her it was more of like a deep sea and devil situation. And she chose to persist with the devil.

 Then came the turn around. I had to examine her eyes. And I said, “AMMA JARA MERI TARAF DEKHO”. Again “divine intervention” I thought. If there was a 22 year old instead of this 66 year old, my instructions may have had some completely different altercations! Phew!  Medicine is tough, but only tough people last and survive.

          May be, I was unable to communicate my instructions to her properly, or maybe she wasn't getting them correctly, or maybe sh was in a rebellious mood in general.  So each time I had to restart and I would start by saying “AMMA JARA MERI TARAF DEKHO”. After a couple of times, Amma also started enjoying this attention.

          One thing, it would have been after such long ages that someone was actually trying to attract her attention, if I may say.

           Secondly, it would also have been after ages that she was getting so much attention.

           And the topping on the cake came when I took her for a check-up. She identified with the place as the same place where she had been stranded for over an hour not more than two days ago. But, today she had royal treatment. She had skipped the queue.

           She would have looked around at the endless queue of patients and thought, how any of them barely got to talk for more than 5 min to their doctor, here she was with a doctor already since 20 minutes and ready to spend even more time with her. And to top it all it was him who was actually patiently listening to her, politely repeating the instructions again and again until she finally got it right. And for once, even the Mamas in the wards were behaving softly with her!

           I could feel it from the smile that was growing her face. The more she tried to hide it, the more widely it grew. She had just within a span of three minutes turned so co-operative

          While all this was going on, someone was not happy. No I am not referring to that batch mate of mine who had actually got a real nut of a person to crack. It was the Bahurani and her Jethani. Either, I was subconsciously overhearing their conversations, or they were consciously ensuring that it was overheard. This is one more of those special abilities of the ladies; they ensure you hear what they want to say.

          All the time they were grumbling, “ Ye kidher fas gaye”. Or, “ Kya Timepass ho raha hai”. (As if you've put your time to great use by watching those family sops.)

          Yes, I heard it!

          “Amma ko to idher laana hi nahi chahiye tha”. “Ye log kuch bhi kar rahe hai”. “Abhi tak to ghar bhi pahunch jaate”. “kal to dekha tha, aaj fir se kyu dekh rahe hain”. And they went on and on. Finally came the revelation, “Array, mera serial chut jaayega. Aur pata hai, iska repeat bhi nahi aata!”

          I think I even glimpsed at them once. Wasn't it wonderful to see those 64 teeth exposed and shining in a friendly manner! (They were 2 of them, and I actually counted them). Ladies again!

          But Amma was too happy turning a deaf year to the Bahurani and her Jethani.

          “Booo, Not your day today”, I felt like kidding them. But, the apron on my body prevented me from saying this.

          All went fine. Exam however wasn't that fine!! And when Amma was to leave, she looked up and told me,” Accha dactar ban na”. That is one gesture, I cannot forget. I am still surprised, how a patient for whom I thought I would have to present as, “CONSCIOUS, COHERENT, but UNCOOPERATIVE”, had actually said such a thing. More than anything else I could feel the warmth in those words.

All this while, the two accompanying ladies still continued to grumble. I looked on as they walked out of the OPD, two well built figures engrossed in each other and a frail figure trying to keep pace with them. Maybe, a little attention is all that people want at that stage of their life.

          May be all that is needed is for someone to tell them,

“AMMA JARA MERI TARAF DEKHO!”

WHEN MY FRIEND WAS CHUCKED OUT OF THE CLASS

WHEN MY FRIEND WAS CHUCKED OUT OF THE CLASS!

The matter is serious to recieve a glance,

This happens only in a century once,

Read on to find out the cause,

WHY MY FRIEND WAS CHUCKED OUT OF THE CLASS!

It was the lecture de morning,

And if that wasn't a sufficient warning,

But no one had even imagined, that at 8'O clack,,

MY FRIEND WAS CHUCKED OUT OF THE CLASS!

He was punctual as usual,

At the tip of the clock was his arrival,

The night's sleep he had first-class,

MY FRIEND WAS CHUCKED OUT OF THE CLASS!

The teacher was late,

My friend had even not his breakfast ate,

But it happened as was destined,

“OUT OF THE CLASS!” the teacher opined

He isn't a back bencher,

Nor is he ever a part of any mischevious venture,

Innocent he is as the animal that grazes grass,

MY FRIEND WAS CHUCKED OUT OF THE CLASS!

Such was the situation's gravity,

It shook the entire student fraternity,

Life, we thought was now an empty glass,

MY FRIEND WAS CHUCKED OUT OF THE CLASS!

I tried to find a reason,

What may have been his treason?

All I could say was Alas!

MY FRIEND WAS CHUCKED OUT OF THE CLASS!

Slowly he walked down the isle,

It was for him, an extende mile,

As he came to face the wrath,

MY FRIEND WAS CHUCKED OUT OF THE CLASS!

With his head down, he stood obediently,

Why had the teachersummoned him abruptly,

Without even being given a defence chance,

MY FRIEND WAS CHUCKED OUT OF THE CLASS!

Something the teacher to him whispered,

Something that every student heard,

But that wasn't a strong flowervaz,

MY FRIEND WAS CHUCKED OUT OF THE CLASS!

He didnot object or fight,

For his mannerisms polite,

On his face emerged a smile,

MY FRIEND WAS CHUCKED OUT OF THE CLASS THAT WHILE!

Now as the air began to clear,

I could understand what I hear,

My friend had a problem with his RAAS*,

MY FRIEND WAS CHUCKED OUT OF THE CLASS!

This was enough to stimulate my curiosity,

I let it out as my creativity,

Life is not made of marbled glass,

MY FRIEND WAS CHUCKED OUT OF THE CLASS!

But he could have saved his skinny,

Had been a bit witty,

But being a book-worm(sorry for this I can't think of any other thing to rhyme with), he coulnot save his ***,

MY FRIEND WAS CHUCKED OUT OF THE CLASS!

So my friend You donot doze,

After in the morning you have rose,

Atleast not in the front benches,

MY FRIEND, YOU'LL BE CHUCKED OUT OF ALL THE OTHER CLASSES!

I know it happens with you every day,

Like from the window enters a sunray,

You could've taken him for a movie to EROS,

WHEN MY FRIEND WAS CHUCKED OUT OF THE CLASS!

Such an event is rare in our clan,

Just as rare as consumption of the products of bran,

Now I am Doing time- pass,

MY FRIEND WAS CHUCKED OUT OF THE CLASS!

I have enjoyed writing this blog,

It is not rude to laugh,

Take care not to drop your viewing glass,

MY FRIEND WAS CHUCKED OUT OF THE CLASS!

*RAAS- Reticular ascending activating system- Pathways in the brain that keep one awake.

OF RUMOURS AND ALLIED.

Just before you begin to read this article, do not close your eyes and say this little prayer,

“Thank you Lord for this amazingly rocking, charming and intelligent, good looking and humorous, kind and gentle, knowledgeable and resourceful, humble and polite blogger.  May his smartness continue to inspire me the whole of my life! Amen.”

Good, so with God’s blessings, you may now read ahead.

A day in the life of Jayesh Vira, is something that you cannot even closely imagine. It starts in the morning, before sunrise, that is. And wait, that’s not all, there is much more to it. Every day brings with it its own bag of “sur-prises”, some pleasant, some even more pleasant. It really helps being God’s favourite kid you know, all the good things just keep on happening to you. And then there are those fans of your, whose needs you have to cater to every minute. Sometimes, they behave like children and demand almost anything, but I finally do it for them, with some level of divine intervention of course. It gives me great pleasure to see the joy on their faces when everything is done, and the look of awe which speaks for itself, “How did he manage to do it “. Well, how I did it is a secret. Aap sirf aam khao, gutliya mat geeno. (You enjoy the mangoes, do not count the seeds, because these are genetically modified seedless-mangoes, you’ll be lost)

My tales of my adventures and accomplishments have reached so far and wide, that even unrelated people from far off lands, have started relating miracles to my great powers. It is indeed very humbling. Thank you!

I was reading the gossip column of the newspaper this morning, as every morning. Isn’t it fun to read all those things, I mean poking our noses where they do not belong? It is one of my favourite time passes.

It is known fact, that when I get down doing something, I get totally engrossed in it, to the extent that I almost always end up writing a thesis on it. Reading those juicy pieces of crap, I got curious to find out what goes in making up such masterpieces of art. More than anything, how do such ideas generate in the first place? So here is my thesis, educate yourself-

Most of the gossips are rumours, rarely with any base of reality. It is one man’s fantasy, and others’ fallacy. Although all of us have the capacity to start a rumour, why is it that only some manage to do so at a regular basis? The reason is that such individuals

1.    are special (not special as in Aamir Khan’s TAARE ZAMEEN PAR).

2.     Their mental faculties are very well developed. They have a very shrewd sense of observation.

3.     They have a very high IQ, probably all would qualify to be members of MENSA.

4.    They have a high index of suspicion (something like a doctor diagnosing a rare disease).

5.    They have very good reasoning capabilities.

6.    They are mostly well connected, it’s like they are a part of a secret group or something.

7.    They are all very supportive of each other (not as in alcoholics anonymous).

8.    They are great orators.

9.    They have tremendous convincing powers.

10   They are manipulative.

11. They are well aware of public opinion and expectations.

12. They are entertainers.

13. In short, they are superhumans (not like dragon ball Z series, where beautiful looking people turn to ugly things when they use their super powers).

 But, anyone who has followed the X-MEN movies will know that all superpowers are mutants. So, what is the super mutation in these GOSSIPOGENS (this is the latest word that has been added to the OXFORD ENGLISH DICTIONARY and FREAK’S MEDICAL DICTIONARY).

The mutation in these individuals leads to an inappropriate linking of facts and fiction, precisely because there is so much fiction in their lives, that the distinction between facts and fiction is lost. The resultant is a product, which is quite entertaining.

It is well known and I reiterate that the childhoods of great comedians were spent in utter depressions. So, it easily follows, and as is a rule in medicine, that there should have been events in their lives (something like a radioactive spider biting them or something of that sort), that precipitate such superpowers. In a telepathic conversation with my friend who is an active member of this clan, whose identity I shall not reveal due to security issues, I was informed that it is anxiety that is a leading cause. Surprising, even superpowers get anxious.

So here is the thing, there is a long standing irritation in their lives. This irritation leads to a reaction in their brains, I propose. And as Virchow has proved that tumour and rubor are two usually independent components of and reaction to any irritation. But, due to the altered metabolism, there is a fusion of the two. This gives rise to RUMOUR. Now, this is like an immune hypersensitivity reaction. Every time there is any irritation, the brain produces a rumour. This is infective, actually infective is not the right word, it is more of like radioactive, affects a lot of people in the vicinity. And it spreads, affecting a lot of people. All the above characteristic superpowers are a gift of this rumourigenic (one more addition to the great dictionaries) focus in their brains.

The next are the group of susceptible individuals who fall prey to these. It is important, because not all fall prey. These have a milder form of the mutation. 

1.They are like weak magnets, do not have any magnetic strength of their own, but become strongly magnetic in the presence of a strong magnet, only to return to their low activity states on removal of the contact. 

2.They are not capable of generating a rumour on their own, but are great vehicles for its propagation. They are the ones who are the most susceptible.

3.They donot use their common sense, for the fear of depleting it.

In the general population, they are about 90%, while the RUMOURIGENS are about 5%. And together they constitute almost the entire population. The remaining 5% are the subjects of the rumours.

The rumouric friend of mine is also a poet, and has aptly described the challenges in the following lines

There are times, when some feelings I harbour,

Give me a heart murmur,

And I feel dumber than Simpson Homer,

I send out a rumour!

But, some proponents have mastered the art with such great perfection, that they use it to get even with others, massage their egos, satisfy their jealousies, or just to add some fun in their hitherto boring lives. They usually remain behind the curtains, and never come to the scene.

Now a little about the subjects of the rumours:

1. They are usually well known.

2. They are even more resourceful.

3. They are easy targets, because they are popular.

4. They are successful.

5. They have catchy names.

6. They are the least bothered about the rumours.

But, with all that can be said, they are suffering from their own mutations. And the world also needs them. For, they add the spice to the world (I am talking about the rumourigens, not the subjects). Without them this world will become very monotonous and bland. They have good qualities, just that too much of good is also harmful for self. We should accept them with open arms.

By the way,

All this is just a rumour

Hope you got the humour.