Of oldies and their stories!

Your grandma was of such a great help to me in the medical college said that old granny! Your uncle used to be lying down here all the time said another. Story after story after story; I loved listening to them all.

Did I miss my grandparents? Very much so! It would have been great listening to the granddad whom everybody talks about everywhere, on whom a book had been written. It would have been such fun to see him tackle his wife, the fiercely independent granny, whom the town I grew up almost worshiped. Though I had the privilege of being with my mom's parents for some time, it would have been far better to listen to their stories now, when I can understand and fathom their legacy much better.

So, what do I miss? The love and the warmth that only grand parents could give. Of course yes! But more so the stories. To listen to the folklore of yesteryear; the interesting stories about the people they met, the pre independence stories of courage and valour, the stories of poverty and struggle, on horse drawn carriages and trams and the other long forgotten things. And of course on friendships and relationships.

There is some thing about those days. Something very sensuous. Very touchy. Something which can bring those happy tears and sometimes make you wish you had lived then.

May be life during those days were more romantic. Ah! How I wish my oldies are here now and tell me how romantic were they then.

Walking in to an uncertain future!

A burning pyre at the backdrop. Two pre teen children walking back. A dark sky. A bright moon. A small tear in their eyes. 

That was the picture which came to my mind when I heard their story. The mother, not a very old lady suddenly became very sick. The two young children had been by her bedside the last few months. And suddenly when she died, they were left all alone.

The two young children had had their private body parts badly damaged in their school by other children. Their mother had married twice, and was living with the third one when she contracted the disease. The villagers refused an entry to her dead body, calling her bad names. There were not many relatives who will share their burden.

All that these two young kids have seen in their young lives have been violence. The society had not been good on them. Not many have reached out to them. Their schooling had been a bad dream. The villagers have been cruel. Their future is dark. The present darker!

Now, is it fair to blame them if ten years down the line they end up doing some thing anti social? A theft? Or worse, a rape or a murder? Should not the society also take up some blame if something untoward happens?

Don't mistake me; I'm in no way defending an anti social action. Every wrong action should be accounted for. Should be punished. But the fact of the matter is, the society and that includes you and me, have not been fair on many young people over the years; and that is coming back to bite us.

May be the criminal justice system should also look at the background of the criminal as much as they see the backdrop of the crime. 

I'm just thinking out aloud!

Did I take her for granted?

Ma, where is my socks? Ma, I'm hungry! Ma, why did you not iron my shirt? Ma, why can't you make some chicken today!

My theatrics on her had no end. Yet, she was always there. Every single time. And with a smile which had no reason but love. The food was there on the table morning, afternoon and night. The clothes wherever we threw, went back to their places as if they had legs. The house looked clean. Crystal clean.

We called her every time the ball hits a patient to rescue us when we played cricket in the hospital premises. Every time I felt bored or had to make a long walk, always called her to wile away time. Every time a friend came home, there was food. And friends of mine came in plenty. And she never said no!

Whenever I came home the favorite cauliflower was made; The parottas were bought. Every time I had to wake up early morning she was always the alarm clock and she never ever refused. And every time I slept till 8 clock in the morning, she always said leave him, he is tired!

May be that is why I took her for granted. Was never thankful for what she was. Was never grateful for all that she did to me.

Now, when I have to make my own dosas, make my own shelf, and go back searching for the clothes, I realize how much I had taken her for granted.

And thankful and grateful I feel today for that precious life, which just lived for us!

What did that man do?

They were all coming back to meet their alma mater. The Christian Fellowship Hospital (CFH) Oddanchathram. Everybody had gratitude in their eyes, every single one of them. That word 'CFH' was repeated thousand times. Almost all of them felt like coming home. Many said it is their 'Mothers place'. Some said they learnt their values there. Some said that place turned their career upside down. Some said their life began there.

Through out the three days of the alumni get together, my mind repeated the same question.What did that man do?

Dr.A.K Tharien came to oddanchathiram in the early 1950's to start a small hospital. That place was then very remote and had little medical help. He wanted to serve the people there. He could have chosen to be some where else. May be the US. May be Cambridge. He did not. He chose the needy and the neglected. He chose oddanchathiram. And the rest is history. HIS story!

From a small haunted house when it was started to the sprawling huge campus, from two doctors to 150 of them now. From a single nurse to a nursing college. From few patients to thousands thronging the place every day.

Not a single paisa of bribe has been paid. Not a single patient sent away for want of money. The focus on the poor has not been deviated from. The founder himself has not taken anything from it except his salaries. The cost for the health care is still affordable to the Indian poor. And the ethics of medicine have been strictly adhered to.

You can see doctors on cycles coming to work! The old man himself drove one till his death. The nurses and the doctors together joke around. The senior most teaches cooking 'sambar' to the Juniors. The ward boy also is found giving speeches. It was one family. One huge loving family!

Again the question comes haunting by! What did he do? How did he do? And more importantly, why did he do?

The answer for the 'why' question was there on everybody's lips. 'For the love of christ!' 'For the love of christ!' Yes, they have stood for the truth and the poor. 'For the love of christ!'

And the rest of the answers, well, go and find out!

The time to be thankful!

When my cousin 'L' whatsapped me that news I was in a meeting. My hands shivered. Had goosebumps. I could hardly control my tears. Waited for the meeting to get over to immediately call her.

'R', my cousin 'L's cousin knew me for only a year. And we came to know each other in life's most difficult of circumstances. Amma was deteriorating after her diagnosis of cancer, when one fine day 'L' called me to say 'R' has been diagnozed with the same disease.I had met her only two days ago and she was hale and healthy. And suddenly this news.

I was there with her two days later in the hospital when the initial diagnostics were done. I knew it was going to be a huge battle ahead. I remember vividly hugging her and saying "We will overcome this ka"!

And overcome, she did! Magnificently. I had often met her in the ward. There was pain. Tiredness. Days when her entire future was questioned. Depression was written all over her face on many days. Yet through it all, she was confident and courageous. Never quit! Never questioned!And the family was majestic. Many times I ve been to her room just to cheer them up, only to find cheerful people already.

I had badly wanted this news. Prayed sincerely for this. And so I'm thankful for the news. Thankful for the disease which strengthened her and the family, Thankful for her strength and the courage which had encouraged me, and on top of it all thankful for the deliverance she received yesterday

The day that changed my life forever!

So it is been a year since that day happened.

I had just failed the civil service exam. Had just got two decent jobs and was still deciding on taking one of them. Almost was deciding on joining a PG, may be an MBA. The previous week had two of the best days of my life with a best friend in Pune.The previous night I went out with a close friend for a dinner. So life was full! Full and happening. Then that day happened.

It was in the evening when my brother called. His voice choked when he said that mom was diagnosed with cancer with secondaries all over. I called my mom immediately. She could not continue either. The world broke down before me.

We knew she was having a back ache for a month. But then cancer? Never in our wildest imaginations have that thought stuck us. That morning mom joked that they are going to have a honeymoon dinner without the fan fare which usually surrounds her when she goes to a hotel in our town. They both went to a neighboring city to get her back checked, only to be diagnosed with that disease.

And so I ran to my roomie to help me book tickets back home. The ticket was booked immediately. Within a few minutes a taxi was arranged and I was on my way home. Almost missed the flight in the traffic jam. I was calling everybody around frantically. Did not know what else to do. Then as the flight took off, it all sunk in slowly. Tears rolled over. I was crying after a long time. Thoughts were all over the place. I knew life is taking us through a phase without any light. The future looked dark.

Life after that day was never the same again.Watching your mom undergo unbearable pain is not easy. After she lost her hair and her voice, she was hardly her own self. Everyday when you have to tell "Ma, open your mouth ma plz, eat something", it felt bad. And during the last few days when she could not recognize us, it was killing. And yes, when she passed away there was an emptiness which could never be explained.

Yet, there were so many good through it all. The family held us together. The friends were just there every single time of need. And it brought us all close together. It made us stronger. It made us bigger.

And yes, Jessie happened! And can life be ever the same after that?

A generation that just forgets?

I don't define generation by age! I define generation by time. And by that I mean, at this point of time we all live in the exact same generation as I am.

And so, we are a generation that forgets. We use the four letter word completely in and out of context for every single issue that comes up in our popular consiousness; So we abuse, we crib, we yell and get really riled up about issues and then about five minutes later we forget....and we move on!

The classic case in study is the horrible mumbai attacks! The whole India came up and said "Enough is enough - We want answers"; and by the time the politicians even thought about an answer we changed the questions. The rape case and the corruption issue followed! Then? The world cup win and Priety Zinta - Ness wadia case distracted us. And the answers never came.

Do we really want answers? I really am beginning to doubt it! I really think this generation (And by that I include me also) just does not 'want' the solutions. Read that word 'want' again. We are happy where we are; The emotional people we are, we just use these issues to vent out frustrations! Just like the classic wife, who never wanted the solutions.

When the CM was convicted; For once when the answer came, to the question that was shouted off from the roof tops and the streets corners......"We look the other side and wish the answer had not come!"

We, as a generation does not forget! We just don't care!