Running away from the docs!

Have you ever run away from treatment? from the docs? Like the child running away from the 'oosi' shouting "Oosi vendaam ma, naan nalla pillaya irupen"?

When the dad, mom, brother, sister, FIL, MIL, the best friend and more importantly the wifey are all doctors, what do you do? Where do you run to? Whom do you run away from?

The FIL says one tablet, the MIL a different one. When was the last time a husband and wife have told the same thing anyways? Then my wifey has a completely different idea. You don't know anything, please don't do this she says to her father. Oh ya, you have to remain oblivious to the dialogue happening. You cannot be privy to an argument where your FIL is scolded by her daughter as not knowing anything.  Did you hear anything? illa da, I was listening to NEWS.

Finally they concur on one thing. To give all the tablets all three of them opined. So you were made to eat 111 tablets a day. No! You don't have the option to refuse. How do you refuse the wife anyways?

And after two days, when nothing materialised they repeat the same dialogue all over again. Like nothing happened before, you listen to everything again! No I did not hear that as well. The only option is to pack your bags and leave the place as if you have work.

But where do you go to?

And you reach home only to have the dad and the brother and the sister thinking that they are the only people treating you.  What if the teacher aunt thinks she is also a doctor, just because she had been sick before? And the process starts all over again. And sadly just because I live in the hospital campus the other hospital doctors also have their own treatment.

So after having the antibiotics, the paracetomols, the cough syrups, the ayurvedic treatment, you still cough because it is viral and love and too much love could never cure a viral infection.

What is sickness for, if not to get pampered by? 

Different times those!

Who are you? The 85 year old granny asked me the question for the third time. I'm Elango's son, I repeated the answer the third time. oh! Elango Paiyan ah? Elango ku yethana pasanga? She continued. Her mind was slowly giving way. After 85 years of holding fort. She is my Grandmother's sister.

She had got a medical seat in the famous Christian Medical College in the late forties. But her father refused to let her study. "I am already having difficulty finding a groom for your sister because she had become a doctor, I cannot do this again, said her father". Different times those! Oh ya, she carries the hurt deep within; yet as those times were, she married and followed her husband faithfully all her life.

How different times were then?

I bought my cycle for Rs.150/- said the grandpa, her busband. I was ordered by my superior to buy it immediately as soon as I got my job, I refused him! I could not afford a cycle. Only with a few months of salary I could afford it, said he. His eyes lit up as I probed further. Oh, we worked all over the place. I was always put in the most difficult places since I refused to bribe.

How was it living without the mobile thatha? I asked. Mobiles? Oh, we never missed them. It had always been letters. I write a letter once a month to my parents asking for money! They gave whatever they had. Half way through my brother fell sick and so the family asked me to discontinue studies. Through some well wishers I managed to continue.

Was there an innocence in their lives which we miss? Are our lives a lot more complicated since our communication systems are a lot better and our basic needs are taken care off better? I mean, they thought only about the daily food. And the occasional travel. Education itself was an afterthought.

Listening to him made me grateful! For all their lives. For all their struggles. For without their hard and sincere labour we would not have been where we are.

And listening to them makes me miss my grandparents more. How I wish they had lived long enough for me to gather all their life's stories. 

Bye Bye Dedu! Love you!

It was almost nine on a Friday evening, as night was licking its lips in anticipation before eating up what was left of the day, nearly everybody in my small department, some with families assembled in the house of my boss. It had been a hectic day for sure. Some had worked more than twelve hours that day. Some had travelled nearly 75 kilometers. Yet they all made it. Made it for a farewell. For my farewell! And guess what, DEDU would have made it for every programme of every single person.

That is why there is love and then there is Dedu!

Behind the big smile I hid the tears. When after a tiring night of working more than 12 hours every soul in the department could assemble at 9:00 PM just to say a 'bye', how could I not cry.

Three years ago, life was very different. I had just lost my mother. The great soul she is, had also been my best friend and a pillar of strength. The mental stress of seeing her go through the final stages of her fight with the disease was indeed taxing. I had just had a big failure as well. Another one of those. Narrowly missing a civil service seat was actually not very easy. Of course the greatness of the wifey and the omnipresent family were of great strength but then I was deep in to depression.

Then DEDU happened!

DEDU was all i knew in the last three years. They were the family I knew. They were Jessie's in-laws. The work was the only hobby I had. Every single one of them was family. The jokes my brain told me were on them. The gossip with the friend was about people at work.

Many days I would just call somebody in the department and go for a dinner. Nobody ever refused. Even if they refuse, I go! And nobody ever stopped me. The favourite biriyani was the ever present menu. And love was always the side dish. Everyday somebody gave me lunch. Breakfast was paid for many times.

The trips, the outings, the nightouts, the carol rounds, the choir singing, the Christmas programme's and the umpteen other departmental programme's organised always was fun just because DEDU was sportive. Light hearted banter was an every present companion. Sometimes the pranks were on the boss too! And nobody ever complained.

When somebody told me, "I'm going for greener pastures"! I smirked within. Can life be ever so green again?

Thank you DEDU! Thank you for all the love. But for you those three years in vellore would have been very different. I have become a better person because of you. And for that, thank you. And best of all I have a wonderful family to fall back to all my life. And for that, love you.

Bye Bye Dedu! Love you!

In to that heaven of freedom, my father, let my country awake!

Two days ago I sat there in the famous Scudder auditorium listening to a childhood hero speak. As he spoke on the history of the hundred years of Christian Medical College, the many years of struggle and the many achievements my heart was filled with an immense honour and gratitude to be a tiny tiny part of this huge organisation.

Dr. Johnny Oomen, the childhood hero spoke on the various stages of an organisation and how from the stage of struggle there has to be a stage of consolidation. And lest we stagnate after the consolidation stage we taper off in to oblivion said he.

Even as I was contemplating the 100 years of CMC, It stuck me that India as a country is entering its own milestone. 72 years of Independence! Not a mean achievement. The world wrote us off. Everybody predicted a violent end to this huge experiment. Not many gave India a chance to survive this many years. But we have hampered on. Crawled. fell down. Got back up. Took a long breath and crawled again. But have not stopped yet.

For India as a country the struggling stage had been quiet long. We had struggled through partition and the wars. The social structure of the country, the ugly casteism, is still going mighty strong. Poverty, homelessness, lack of health care and proper education still stare at us. And after the early 90s another nail in the already swollen leg has gone deep inside. The nail of inequality. And of late the divisiveness of polity is hampering the crawl as well.

Where do we go from here? How long will we struggle? When do we consolidate? And when can we actually look at that freedom and praise it to be heavenly as Rabindranath Tagore sang?

I believe for India to take the next giant step, we will have to come out of our false identities and fake masks and embrace truth. Truth in polity. Truth in our discourse. Truth in our thinking and truth in our personal lives.

For truth shall set us free!

In to that heaven of freedom, with truth as its fulcrum, my father, let my country awake!

Happy independence day!