My name is not shuk-shuk...

Friends, Indians, Countrymen (and women)!
Lend me your ears!

My name is not shuk-shuk. It's not even Shukla. In fact, as far as is known, shuk-shuk isn't a name in any community known to reside in India. It hasn't meaning in any Indian language. The only inhabitants of the country known to understand the term and react favourably are dogs, and stray ones too.

The horn in a car/truck/rickshaw/ motorcycle/scooty/moped/luna is not a magic button that can make any real or perceived obstacle on the road, including traffic signals, vanish into thin air.

Women who graduate from medical school are doctors, they may be addressed so. They need not be called sister, shishter, madam, behenji, deviji, auntyji, bhabhiji, maaji or any other female relation-ji. A plain and simple "Doctor" is fine, as in Dr. Mary Jane. Whether Dr. Mary Jane is Dr. (Miss) Mary Jane or Dr. (Mrs) Mary Jane is completely irrelevant to patient care. Stay out of it. Ditto for Advocate Mary Jane.

A group of people waiting in a line to avail of a service that can be rendered to one person at a time is called a queue. It may not appear so, but it is a fast and organized way to get things done. Highly recommended.

What relation two people of opposite genders travelling peacefully together on the bus bear to each other is only their business.

All those other people who do not speak the language of all those people are not necessarily stupid or doomed to go to hell.

Punjabis don't begin and end each sentence with Balle Balle. Tamilians don't holler "yenna Rascalla" on the hour, every hour. Maharashtrians don't exclaim "Aila Plane!" everytime something flies past.

Nationality and religion are not one and the same thing. Neither are patriotism and sartorial apathy.

The streets are not to be cleaned up; they are to be kept clean. The Constitution wasn't framed to provide a government that would take the spit and the waste off the streets and the monuments. Spit and waste were not supposed to get there in the first place.

Tobacco chewing is injurious to health.




 

I'm sick of doctors!!!

all I want.....

A breeze from the sea
a walk in the dark
a beam from the moon
and a dream.

Sand in my feet
wind in my hair
rain on my skin
and a song.

The sky in my ceiling
the ocean in my yard
the forest in my garden
and freedom.

Just screwing up my life on a daily basis..... :)

Whatever happened to the good old days when people who wanted to talk to other people would just go talk to them or may be even call them on the telephone and not TEXT THE FREAKING DAYLIGHTS OUT OF THEM?!!!!

April 30th, 2009

I can't see... this place is so humid,my glasses fog the moment i get off the freezing a/c coach.... how am I going to survive this place for three years? at least? How far is it from here? No mood to walk for miles..this is it? Has more trees than I thought it would....I'll just go straight to her cabin... no point waiting for my co's. let's just take the bull by the horns... I hope she's in a good mood.. with all those horror stories I've heard about her I don't want her to keep me.. First floor, na?.. Oh goody! my co's are here.. I totally believe in safety in numbers.. Nice cabin..cane furniture... would look better in our garden.. are those her grandkids?
Damn!! She's talking to me!!!! Shucks! Shucks! Shucks! What did she say? Dr. who? Wednesday? Wow! Missed it by whisker.... lot's of work today then, I guess... where's S going to be? I'm alone? great! Good luck to me...Oh, female seniors to get us oriented!! Nice... gee am I going to look like that in a year? They look exhausted!! I d o n ' t k n o w w h a t I a m d o i n g ......
Who did she say I'm supposed to meet? I hope he's not some hot tempered bull who'll have me for breakfast at morning rounds... this is the place, right? These people sit inside glass cages? For what? To protect themselves from the patients? Does it really get that heavy? Now how am I going to know this guy? I don't see anyone who could be him.... may be I'll just ask this fellow here... does he have a lot of paper work or what! Who is my senior? This gentleman here? Fast asleep- this one? Should I wake him up? Oh god, no! What if he yells at me for disturbing him... may be if I just stand here behind him and stare at him long and hard enough, the heat from my eyes will gently rouse... HEY!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!! NO! NO! NO!!!! He'll EXPLODE!!! Paper work guy is shaking him awake! Wha'dya want to have me killed or something????
Whew! Calm down. It's okay. It's okay... he seems cool with this. In fact he seems very cool. Doesn't think I look like his junior. Huh? Then what does he think I look like- a milk maid? oh puhleeze!! Don't start with the cliched you-don't-look-like-a-surgeon line....wow! he's actually not saying that... Says I have a good HOU to work under? Shouldn't get affected if people yell at me once in a while? hey.. he's not at all a hot headed bull...... WHAT??? Go back and come on the first? Are you SERIOUS? Dude, it's your post ED. You look exhausted, looks like you could do with a hand- even if it's not a very efficient one. I can do angios, you know. I'm good with angios. You got a couple a' angios to put- I'm neat with them. What? You didn't join before the first so why should your junior? Hey look, buddy, I don't believe in angels anyway, so don't even try... no? You're sure? I go back?
Wow! I just met God. Two more days before the bungee jump... Mum wait for me for lunch.... it's quite a first day.

Abhimanyu

For all the wonders we can do after opening up the abdomen, we're still not quite sure how to close it...

Little by little

Little by little
He gave you everything you ever dreamed of
Little by little
The wheels of your life have slowly fallen' off
Little by little you have to give it all in all your life
And all the time I just ask myself why I'm really here......
Love this song!

Whup whup whup!

Hey this is news: I actually had an AITA rank in the under fourteen list when I was, well, under fourteen. I was 131st in the country and there were actually players below me. Good to discover that eleven years later!!!

They said at Sion..

-'There are good doctors, and there are big doctors. Be a good doctor.'
-'The bigger the surgeon, the bigger the incision.'
-'Once I say,"Take the patient in," there shall be no further questions.'
-'Keep the table going till I come back. I will be back.'
-'Everybody seems to forget who's the boss, and each starts doing as he pleases. It looks like I shall have to remind them.'
-'Madhuri, the situation is not as bad as you think.'
-'Surgeons have three enemies: anaesthesiologists, pathologists and radiologists.'
-'Yes yes. Please please.'
-'This is not Leelavati.'

Eat pray love

It's a strange feeling. The roses seem redder, the sky looks bluer and the sun just seems to be singing its own tune up there. It had been a month since I had met him, and a week since he had been teasing me about how I intended to keep my culinary skills, or the sheer lack of them, a secret until it was too late. To clear all doubts, I had invited him to a home cooked meal that night and now found myself at the downtown grocery store, loading my shopping cart with pasta and olives and artichokes and steak and chops and jalapenoes and cooking chocolate.

Delores was at the cash counter, billing and packing with her usual sunny smile. The hard years showed in the lines on her face, but her eyes had a warmth that declared she was the best agony aunt in a thousand miles. We hardly talked except for the usual pleasantaries, but we had developed a liking for each other over the years.

'It's that look in your eyes, honey, that explains what's in the shopping cart,' she said. I tried not to look embarassed, hard as it was. I'm just dating this guy you see, there's nothing more to it.

" I've been there and done that darling," she said, "and I can tell it when I see it. It's no bed of roses, mind you. I've been running this grocery store ever since my husband left me to raise my son alone and it wasn't always easy. I work days and nights to put my boy through college, and then he does five years in prison for drugs and attempting to murder this girl he was dating. It's six weeks since he's back home now, but I keep worrying honey. It's no bed of roses I tell ya that."

I gathered up my things and made my way back to the car, thinking more about whether I had blushed and how many people had caught it, than about Delores's story. I admired her gut though. Life had been hard on her but she had a zest for it still, it seemed. I thought about her while I rolled out the pasta and baked the brownies, and thought that there but for the grace of God were I.

Dinner was ready by 6:30, and so was I. The table was set, the glasses were filled. The roses did look redder while I waited for the doorbell to ring. It was seven, and then seven thirty. Still no sign of him. Had he stood me up? That couldn't be. No, he wouldn't do that. His phone was not reachable. Maybe he had something important. Maybe he had to stay back at work. Maybe it was some minor emergency that he had to attend to first. Maybe he just got caught in the traffic. Maybe his car broke down and he had forgotten to charge his phone. Maybe -oh yeah, right, surely- he was out with that gorgeous blonde I'm sure he was staring at at the restaurant that day. Oh please! He wouldn't do that!
It was nearly eight by the time the doorbell rang. He was there, a bunch of carnations in hand, his hair a little tousled, which made him look all the more adorable.
'I'm sorry I'm late,' he said. 'Mum had an emergency.'
'Oh dear, is she okay?' I asked as I helped him hang up his jacket.
'Ah, she just had a rough day at work. A lot of business today and she coudn't account for nearly three grand. We sat over it and figured it out and just as that got sorted the cooling system broke down. Had to help her fix it before I drove her home. And then I picked up these carnations for you. I remember you said you like them.'
'Thank you,' I said in a gentler tone as I fetched a vase for the flowers. 'What does your Mum do, by the way?'
'Why, Mum?' he replied. 'Well, she's been running the downtown grocery store for as long as I can remember.'

Four walls and Hope

The sand was soft beneath my feet,
The silver dust of chaste moonlight.
The breeze whispered it's its sweet ode to
The pristine beauty of the full moon night.

The waves beckoned to farther out-
To love and peace and joy somewhere,
The leaves fluttered to kiss the earth
And lie without another care.

Just out the window but still so far-
Why bound by this unseen rope?
The earth is free, and are all it's beings
Yet we live in but four walls and hope.

The ego is the student's worst enemy.

New laptop
New connection
New chance
Yippee!!!

Reflections

Quite amusing to look back over my thoughts a year later :)

It's hard to leave....

Scooters, Vacation, Fall

Crowded streets, crazy traffic.
Bustling station with porters everywhere.
Noisy cafe where workmen hammer and saw a rustic rhythm.

Strangers dine together, suspicions galore.

The bags are loaded, the seats are taken.

The coach lurches forwards- the journey begins.

Dry grass, dust, burning asphalt. The afternoon gives way to dusk.

One night at a four star- hardly a word exchanged.

Start the day at a Mughal garden.

Pictures are taken, names are asked.

The coach moves on: brown gives way to green, and silence to a friendly murmur.

Shrubs turn into fir trees, rocks into mountains.

A Victorian city shimmers from its height.

The church's spire presides over the delightful scene

Of shoppers, vendors and colourful wares.

Then a meadow of cedars and spruce.

Little ponies to take you up there.

Silvan hillsides above the clouds,

Surely heaven was near.

Next on to where our Noah docked his ark,

The journey by a little stream.

The little stream that feeds the world

That knows it as a massive river.

First the rain, then the snow.

Silver lashes from the sky,

The dainty flakes bejewel the firs

And strike my skin like burning ice.

A hundred ancient temples stand,

As pure in beauty as in faith,

A hundred miles into the sky

On cliffs of snow and windy prayers.

Snow fights, snow rides, snowmen, snow angels.

The ice was melting amid all these.

While nature froze in breath taking splendour

Hearts warmed up to one another.

And then we rowed our rubber rafts,

Not gently down the stream

Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily,

Though most of us did scream.

Over dinner, dance and song

And thirteen hundred miles,

Our world of fun and fantasy

Finally said goodbye.

TIME

I happened to read this article on Medscape- My Battle With Time by Jeff Wonoprabowo a med student who seems to share my problem: time management, or rather the lack of it. It contains a good number of suggestions on how to deal with it, so I'm pasting the link here http://medscape.typepad.com/thedifferential/2008/11/my-battle-with.html for the benefit of my fellow sufferers.

I have really battled to manage my studies and though it's off season now, it's not too late to ask you people for some help. Is there anyone out there who feels an irresistible urge to sleep as soon as he opens a text book? Or does anybody itch to pick up a racket and knock some balls when you have a hundred pages to read? Or are there any hopeless day dreamers like me who can while away precious hours by simply staring into space over an open book? If you have any tips on how to break these ugly habits and get focused, please share them with me. I'll be indebted.

How not to make strawberry slush

A simple step by step guide to how not to make strawberry slush for anyone who is bored out of his/her brains.

- Discover a bowl of strawberries in the refridgerator

- Discover half a cup of curd which Mum had instructed you to gobble down with lunch.

- Idle mind, devil's work shop: get to work.

-Put about 8 to 10 strawberries into the blender jar.

-Add in half a cup of curd.

-Make up for the remaining half cup with butter milk.

-*You can make the drink with only curd or only butter milk. Use one cup of either in that case.

- Throw in about a tablespoon of honey. I like it sweet so I put in a little more

- Blend until smooth.

-Allow a few chunks of strawberry to remain. It won't taste bad.

-Add in crushed ice.

-Pour into two serving glasses and garnish with a strawberry.

-Surprise Mum when she gets home.

Thank you!

One is six feet tall and the other is two inches taller than that. It's a wonder I didn't sprain my neck and they didn't break their backs as we stretched and hunched respectively to blitzkrieg our way through much of an epoch called internship. It started thirteen long months ago, when Lata Ma'am dumped the three of us together in the same unit in surgery. I was low on confidence and very nervous at that time, but it didn't take a day to discover that these two gentle giants were the best people I could have ever been lucky enough to work with.

Amit is a warm, talkative, happy-go-lucky fellow who can brighten up the rainiest of days- days when it rains thirty-five patients, testy JR's, marauding bed bugs and a squall. He will regale you with stories of drunk medical students just as you're inserting a Foley's into a foul mouthed, not so sober street fighter, give you an elaborate recipe for the world's best chicken biryani while you dash down to the microbiologist's with a sample for a hanging drop preparation on curt instructions from MG and colourfully describe his Basic Mountaineering Camp with its Survival Night as you trudge up the stairs for the sixth time in two hours armed with lab reports from the CCL. He's the kind of guy who will wrestle down a violent patient at midnight, debride his infected wounds while he's showered with expletives and then greet the fellow with a wide smile in the morning. An artist par excellence, he fills up the lives of those he meets with the brightest colours from the palette of his good nature.

Ulhas, on the other hand, is the quiet gentleman, towering over everybody but intimidating none. A man of few words but still very amiable, he was the hard working, punctual, sincere and efficient worker we relied on to help us sail through the grimmest of ED's. Just when you're staring down at a seemingly endless list of tasks, Ulhas will appear out of nowhere and silently set about getting things done. He will cover for you at your every slip, step up to the job just as you show the first sign of weariness and stand up to anyone who tries to bother you. When you're running up flights of stairs to do odd jobs, a bunch of bored guys may feast on a Temptation that you bought for someone who is just right for Amul Chocolate, but Ulhas will be right there to help you finish your work, and share the chocolate later.

Thirteen months of sweat and grime, and I wouldn't have gotten through without the two gentle giants. It sometimes fills me with wonder when I look at the way we bonded, the way we became a team, the way each of us had made a silent promise to ourselves that we would never let the other person down for the sake of our own individual interests. They have given me something to miss when I leave this place, something to keep my heart here, something to make a goodbye just as hard as it should be so that it doesn't feel empty.

Guys, thanks for everything! May life bring you the very best, because you truly deserve it.