True stories - Work

True stories - Work

Resident to Consultant: " Sir, I need permission to come late tomorrow."

Consultant: " why, may I ask son"

R: "Tomorrow is Durgasthami sir, I am having this Pooja at home. I need to attend it and pray sir."

C: "Sure son, take your leave. Tomorrow is post admission day and rounds starts at 10am."

R: "I will be here by that time, sir. Thank you, and see you."

Next day the resident arrived at 10 to see the consultant already in ward. He scrambled to start the rounds but found to his surprise that the consultant had come at 730am had seen all the old patients, settled their active issues, seen the new patients transferred in the night, written their notes and made their treatment plans. Rounds then got over in 15 mins and the consultant left. 

Being the post admission day and being in charge of the ward on the holiday, the same consultant came for the evening rounds. Evening rounds also went smoothly, most major issues already having dealt with earlier at the appropriate time by the best possible hand. The consultant, pretty relaxed and satisfied, took his unit to the coffee shop. 

After having coffee once outside, walking, he asked;

C: "Did you have a good prayer session, son?"

R: "The function went well sir, thank you. But I can't help myself but ask, sir....why did you come to ward early, sir. I know you are a Brahmin. Surely you also must have had the Pooja at your place on this day of Durgasthami?"

C: "Oh! The Pooja was there all right. I did have the Prasad too....But when you reach my age son, you come to believe that the Lord exists in the world through the actions of Good hearted people. For me, Work is worship and service is heaven. I'm sure one day you'll also realise that. Goodnight my dears, see you tomorrow.

The professor turned back and walked towards the parking lot. As if on cue, the bells of the nearby temple started ringing.

Somethings you can't teach, one needs to find it within himself. 

Happy Navarathri.

 

True story - Uncle

True story - Uncle

My almost-3 year old nephew Pranav called me to wish me good luck for my MD final exams. 

In midst of the tensed and terrified mood, that was the sweetest thing I'd ever heard.

I told him exactly that, said thank you and was about to hang up, when he also gently reminded me that he needed two dinosaurs (blue and green), a torch and a truck for his upcoming birthday. 

Kids these days, I say.....

#moreterrified

True story - Rebirth

True story - Rebirth

My dad was having trouble with stray dogs at our place. He was very annoyed with them and tried everything to clear his place off the menace. He had tried large stones and long sticks to make them run away but with little reward. He was contemplating drastic measures like having somebody capture them and drop them off at distant places or even call the municipal corporation people.

His irritation got a little worse when his father in law (ie my grandpa) told him not to hurt these animals too much as mythology does suggest that our forefathers who've died and gone to heaven sometimes take rebirth as these lower animals and they flock our house hoping to catch of glimpse of their dear future generations. The communist in every Malayali surfaced and dad rubbished these theories immediately.

Next day evening dad was relaxing watching some cricket when the dogs were making too much noise, specifically outside our gates. Something snapped and dad lost all cool. He was almost making a war cry while charging down the street chasing dogs. Just beyond our gate, still running, he bent and picked up a fat stone and was almost about to hurl it at the running pack when it happened.

One of the light brown dogs slowed down, almost stopped, turned back and looked at dad, gave him a stare, with those green brown eyes. Not afraid at all. Dad froze in his tracks. That look and something about that turn and mannerism struck him. Exactly like how his favourite maternal uncle who passed away 20 years ago used to move and look. Dad almost went flaccid, his fingers loosened and the stone automatically dropped to the ground. 

To date the neighbours are clueless about how, every night, a large packet of food appears at the corner of the street for the dogs.....

True stories - Faith

True stories - Faith

I first saw the baba for the first time in private ward. Quite unlike the typical rich flamboyant private ward patients, was my first thought. Looks easily above 70, thin frail and disheveled, but something special about the look in his eyes. Must be a farmer from Punjab with acres and acres of land, I became judgemental and assumed. He was waiting for my favourite SR Dr. A, with some bills in his hand to sign. Adi, my co - JR, in charge of the babas patient, came by. Baba politely asked him, his sons platelet count of the day. There was utter glee in the old frail mans eyes which lit up like sunrise when he heard that the platelet count has risen, although marginally. Dr. A soon followed Adi and the baba greeted him with utmost respect. A looked a little embarrassed when he returned such a overwhelming welcome and immediately tended to the old man and signed his bills. He old man confirmed that his son does not require transfusions that day and hurried off to submit the bills. 

"Who is the old man, what does his patient have?" I asked Dr. A once the old man was out of earshot. "Oh, him. He is a retired fauji. His only child, his son, has AML at the age of 28, which you know has a bad prognosis. The baba was shattered with the news and is penniless per se but because he is retired from army, he will get his bills reimbursed. I have given him confidence that we can go ahead with the only option his son has ie. Bone Marrow Transplant, after his induction Chemotherapy. The son, is admitted for his induction chemo now." 

Dr. A continued, 

"Baba is worried about only 3 things in his life now. His daily bill signing, his sons hemoglobin and platelet count and his sons fever. Baba is the only person to run for arranging the blood, buying all the medicines and transfusions sets syringes gloves etc. but baba never complains. Even after all that we told about his sons illness and his chances, baba refuses to relent. And it's not the denial. He has that look in his eyes, that determinant spark which refuses to give up his son when there's something left for him to do, whatever that might be, however running around it might involve. I have never seen such a understanding, non complaining, obedient patient and dad with such kind of belief. I will never let him die under my care. Not when I am around. " Dr A's last few words took me aback, I dint expect such strong words from somebody who keeps saying "everybody dies". But I came to understand why A said so, in the weeks to come. The baba was the most gentle soul alive. His bills and his eagerness for his sons Hb and platelet count became a loving routine for all of us. He was polite to all, never irritated or frustrated, always understanding whatever we told him and always anxious to find out what next he can do to help his son out. The patient himself was jovial and totally understanding of his fathers effort and sacrifice. Everyone from the consultants to the nursing staff liked the baba and we all wished and prayed for his sons speedy recovery. The guy got better and got shifted for his BMT

Six months later I see the baba at the Hemetology OPD. " How are you, baba", I ran and held his hand and asked in excitement. I stopped myself from asking the obvious, because you never know in Hemetology and you expect the worst. But the baba beamed, "my sons alright Dr. Saab," and turned and pointed. No wonder I didn't recognise him. The lad had out on weight, had changed in appearance and looked a healthy young adult. We shook hands and I followed them into Dr. A's room. Baba still had a stack of bills which Dr. A had to sign. Dr. A told me about the transplantation details and how babas determination was essential in getting the complicated procedure done without much difficulty. Baba always prayed, arranged everything that we asked for, and never let the fire die from his eye. The young lad, danced the Bhangra for the sisters at the BMT and left in full health, no complications yet. There was a sense of victory in Dr. A's voice, and I remembered his vow. As if reading my mind, A told," This is not my achievement. Whatever the guy is now, is the sole responsibility of the baba and his resolute attitude. "

Today after two long years, I met the baba at the Opd. I again ran to him and grabbed his hand, but this time I knew something was wrong. Babas eyes told the whole story. No energy, no sunrise. Red and puffy eyes full of darkness. I said sorry even before he said anything. "It was GVHD", baba said referring to the late complication that took his son away. "Dr. YU took very good care of us as Dr. A had completed his course and gone away. I am waiting for Dr. YU to sign some bills.", baba said. 

I was shattered. I remembered all the effort the whole team had put in, to pull him out. Adi's running around, Dr. A's passionate vow, the BMT staffs effort. After everything, it felt as if it all had gone in vain. The old frail fauji baba still ended up losing his only child, his son, after giving everything, including his life, in exchange for it. I just couldn't stand to see the old baba standing there, the omnipresent bills in his hand, one last time. I came to realise that through the baba and Dr A, I came to believe, at least partly, in the subject and science that I practised. I had believed in the power of human effort and determination, in humanity and the eternal heights love can achieve, through their effort. Shattered. Feeling totally shattered. I just went inside the room and sat there staring the wall.

Dr. YU came in, saw the baba and took him by both his arms and brought him inside the OPD room. He was as sympathetic as anyone can be. Baba explained how the last bill from PGI was lost in the confusion of the death and accounts people refused to provide a duplicate. Dr. YU' s eyes glared in anger, he jumped up, asked the baba to follow him, left in the midst of the extremely crowded Monday AHC, not even bothering to inform his consultant, stormed into the accounts section and blasted everyone there. He threatened litigations and written complaints if the baba did not get the duplicate by the end of the day. He was literally shaking that nobody dared refused him anything. I pulled Dr. YU back to his OPD room, but he was still fuming, mumbling angrily. Baba came back within an hour with a duplicate bill and Dr. YU readily signed it. Baba mumbled a thanks and left the Opd, not before giving us a one last smile. 

I thanked the baba and Dr. A for making me believe in the ultimate power of human effort and humanity. I also said my thank you to Dr. YU for restoring that faith. 

I stared at the old fauji baba till he turned out of my sight, gait slow but steady, back straight, right hand still clutching some bills along with a form titled, "Last and final settlement".

True stories - kindness

True stories - kindness

I was on a return trip from Mumbai to Kerala and was waiting for the queue to board the plane when the airlines guy announced a fast track queue for privilege passengers, frequent fliers, mothers with infants and people requiring special assistance. A few people left our queue and joined the other line. I noticed that one guy, with his arm is in a sling and cast, quite obviously travelling alone, stayed put in our queue and moved along with us. I liked that resolute look of quiet dignity I saw in his eyes. As fate would have it, he was seated adjacent to me. I gave him a smile, confirmed with him that he was travelling alone and that I need not exchange my seat with anyone and helped him settle. I noticed he was having trouble with adjusting and buckling his seat belt and helped him do it. I assured him that I would help him, and told him to relax. He still seemed skeptic at my generous offer but was visibly much more relaxed when he enquired about what I do and realised I was a doctor going on leave. He then slowly started opening himself, told that he was a crane operator in Saudi and fell down from crane operators cabin one week back and the company was generous enough to sanction his full pay leave which was due and he was going home to visit his family. He was real jumpy about the prospect of meeting his family after 2 years and was excitedly telling about how his son was good at academics, his daughter was winning prizes at the youth festival and how he is getting his wife her favourite perfume as a surprise gift. By that time, the refreshments had arrived and I had helped him open his pudding, make his tea with milk powder, helped him arrange his tray table and opened his water bottle. He said that the airline staff in the international plane was much more compassionate and understanding and even confided to me <with a snigger> that they slipped him a couple of 'hot' drinks to 'ease him of the pain'. We spoke about the plight of mallu workers abroad, why people do it, the comforts and their struggles, everything. Through him I saw a lifetime of struggle, sacrifice, integrity and love. When we finally parted, after I helped him load luggage from the conveyor belt into his trolley, he said, "Thank you so much sir, I'm sorry that I seemed a little distant towards your helpful approach, but believe me when I say this, throughout the journey, nobody was this helpful and understanding to my troubles. May God bless you." I nodded my head and we parted, a content smile on my face.

Love for the fellow human being, strike one.

I told this story to my dad, and he began his own. 

I went to the medical college post office today to post your wedding invitation. Being a few minutes early, I had to wait for 15 mins for the person at the speed post/stamp counter to come. I was waiting, fiddling with my phone when a middle aged man came running in. He also was told to wait 15 mins. He seemed very disturbed and disappointed and was pacing around, mumbling to himself, very impatient. I asked him, "Is there a problem? What's the matter?" He said, "I've seated my wife in front of the doctors room at the radiotherapy unit, and I don't know when they'll call her. I need to be with her when they do call her, because she will never convey all her troubles and only I, who takes care of her, can do that. But I need to speed post this today, an application for some medical aid towards her cancer treatment, else the money'll get delayed." The man continued pacing around, still disturbed. "Do one thing", I told. "Give me the envelope and I'll post it for you." He suddenly stopped, looked at me suspiciously. "I am waiting for the same purpose, I'll post your letter also.", I repeated. "I don't know how much postal charge it will cost....", he said, still quite unsure of what he is doing. "Anyway it is going to be trivial, I am not going to take money from you, give it to me if you trust me and it will be done.", I offered a third time. Maybe hearing the sincerity in my voice, he quickly wrote the address on the envelope and handed it to me. "Thank you sir,", he said with palms together with respect. "Why do you do this??", he enquired. "Don't be silly.", I told him. "My dad always used to tell me to do at least one good deed a day. Thank you for giving me the opportunity today to fulfil my fathers wish. Please go to your wife and take good care of her, all will be well.", I replied. His voice broke, a glint of a tear came into his eye and he mumbled another thank you and hurried off.

Love for the fellow human being, strike two.

My mom, not to be left behind hearing all this, began her story.

The distance from medical college junction/ bus stop to the College per se, is about a kilometre. The RCC lies along the way, around 800m from the junction. 2 weeks back, I was driving to college from Medical College junction when I saw this family, walking by the side of the road. A mom, a father and a kid. The kid was bald and was wearing a green mask, so they were quite obviously going to Rcc from a distant place for cancer treatment. By their clothing and the fact that they decided to save 20 rupees on an auto by walking that one kilometre to Rcc, told me that they were financially not well off. I stopped the car by their side and asked them to climb in and told I'll drop them at the hospital. The kid looked excited but the parents looked doubtful. I told them that I am going in the same direction and opened the front door. They reluctantly climbed in. The child was very excited at his first ride in a Ford IKON and was in total amazement at the control knobs and stereo and ac. His mother had to hold his hands to prevent him from fiddling with the stereo controls. But I noticed that she never scolded the child. No words were exchanged and I dropped them off at RCC, the kid gave me the widest of toothless grins I have ever received while his mother mumbled a thanks. I proceeded to work as usual.

Today, exactly 2 weeks later, I saw them on the same road, but this time the kid was looking behind expectantly for something. His face lit up like sunrise when he saw my bright red car. I stopped again and opened the door, no doubts were raised this time as the family climbed in, the dad in front with the kid this time and needing less restrain. 2 minutes and another wide toothless grin later, I was about to depart from Rcc when the dad told me. "Thank you madam for what you have done. For the first time in his 12 cycles of chemo for my sons leukaemia, today morning he did not cry and did not refuse to come out from the house for his painful chemo. He was so thrilled by his car ride 2 weeks back that he expected you to come today also. Gods grace that we met today also. I haven't seen him smile this wide for many months now." The dad left me and I continued to work, totally lost for words.

Love for the fellow human being, strike three

We are not human beings having a spiritual experience, we are spiritual beings having a human experience. And in this short human form lasting just a few years, in a world billions of years old, we should turn the common suffering of all humans into hope for the future. - Madiba

Epilogue - Food for thought.

My sister, reading this said, "you are missing a point here, aren't you?" I braced myself for something wise and philosophical when she continued, "It is quite a normal and natural thing for everyone in our family to do what you guys did. But all three times, initially you were met with skepticism and a defensive attitude. On doing your act of kindness, it was treated as if you guys had done something great and your generosity was out of the world. Which, u know it and I know it, it was not. It was a simple straightforward action of kindness, one which we will normally do on any other day given an opportunity, just because of our respect to our fellow human being. "

"The society has degraded to such an extent that the simplest of acts of kindness is viewed with lots of doubt and when done, perceived with out of the world rarity, because actually, such attitude is, in itself, is quite rare. We should all be ashamed of ourselves."

Love for the fellow human being, game, set and match.

True stories - What do men look for in the woman they want to marry.

True story - What do men look for in the woman they want to marry.

What do men look for in the woman they want to marry?? Their looks? Educational status?? Job profile?? Character?? Money?? Family?? Place of birth?? Region / caste?? Ask yourself this question and you think that your answer is one among the above factors if not a combination of those. Am I correct??? Well you are terribly mistaken, guys...

When I told all my guy friends about this batchmate girl I met at the library, who watches football, follows it and is a ardent supporter of Barcelona and a die hard fan of Carlos Puyol and Iniesta (not because of their looks!!),  half of them wouldn't believe me at any cost. The first thing that the other half (whom I could convince with difficulty and evidence) asked me was, "Is she married??" :-D 

Not a question about looks/family/money/education/nationality/job. Not even one word about age/religion.

The heart of a man knows what the mind does not. Football is religion. 

Football is life.

True stories - Guru

True stories - Guru

I was already into my second year of my Ayurveda degree but the class I was about to attend today scared me like hell. It was to be taken by the youngest and most brilliant AP of the college, who unfortunately happened to be my dads younger brother. Of course, everyone in class knew this for a fact and was smiling at me. I, on the other hand was terrified because I had no idea how I am gonna face that quiz he conducts at the beginning of every class. I contemplated on bunking. Twice. Finally decided otherwise and entered the class. Second last row, second last seat. Well hidden, I patted myself on the back. He will miss me, I was almost sure. 

The sir entered. He looked smart, as always. "Ok class, let's begin, who can tell me the sloka that defines....."

His eyes searched the crowd and easily found me, "You...", he pointed. I, obviously had no idea of the answer, so I remained standing looking at my feet. He looked disappointed, I understood why. The question was not a difficult one, I just had not read that part. My classmates started sniggering, "Next", he said. How am I to know, in the second last row, I will be seated next to a total nerd. She got up and blasted away the sloka. Perfect pronunciation. When she completed, I was still standing looking like a total joker. All my classmates, esp the boys were having a field day. "So what punishment do we give her", sir asked, playing along, a small smile on his face. 

The pure glee in some of the boys face seemed like Onam had come early. Almost everyone was sniggering now. I stared straight ahead, refusing to be humiliated. "Imposition, 50 times??", some wise crack from the boys side suggested, which was greeted by jeers of approval and even more laughter. 

"50 times imposition seems fair enough", he agreed. The class almost cheered. My heart sank. " However", he continued, " if we bring forth such a convention, it stays. It'll be applicable to everyone in all the quizzes from now onwards. Ok with you people?? ". 

The class groaned collectively, my turn to smile. (In that case) "I think we can let her off this time", some smart-ass, again from the boys side suggested, and a collective disappointed sigh of approval followed. "If thats the case, we will continue with the class", sir waved me to sit down, smirk on his face. "Study and come next time", he told gently, those eyes showing lot of recognition and affection.

Lessons from the day: A good teacher will never humiliate you. 2. You can always count on your own blood.