Who's your Swami, Mummy ?

Again, time is playing with my concepts...or perhaps, it's just that I'm coming across the "diverse" bit of the "unity in diversity" tag that holds this motherland bound.

For a long time, I associated spiritual healing with the release of mental anguish, the attainment of nirvana, smiling oldies in flowing robes and 'da counting beads.' I was wrong.

Turns out there's an aspect of spiritual healers that I'm totally unaware of. You see, people go to spiritual healers for more than mental freedom these days. They also go to them for the relief of pain, but the kind of pain that I'm more familiar with.. the pain of a person suffering from an acute appendix or a strangulated hernia ( don't know how that feels ? lie on ground, ask passerby to step on testicle.. now you know. )

I mean, I guess it's cute and reassuring from the point of view of maintaining our culture ( our old dudes went to Swamis too, right, not docs ?Did you ever see Vishwamitra or Dronacharya wearing a white lab coat or staring at a nurse's ass in the Ramayana or Mahabharatha series ? No ? What a strange coincidence, Sherlock..) But coming back to the point, I really wish people would use their common sense at such times.

There are some things these spiritual healers can't do. Treating an acute appendix by placing their palm over the tummy is one of them. Skateboarding with their arms is probably another thing they'd struggle with, though I'm not sure of that one. But it's unbelieveable how many people fall for the whole healer thing nevertheless. The old equation of "spiritual = religious = god = miracles" appears in people's heads and they think that it should work.. end result ? We docs get a patient when he's in severe shock from the pain , when ideally the guy could easily have been treated with perhaps even medication, of not a surgery.

Sigh, but belief overrules sense anyday, doesn't it ? Why else do we go to any lengths to watch matches we know we're gonna lose ( "Yes, honey, I AM having sex with the office cleaning lady, now put the damn phone down so we can get jiggy with it !!!! I'll call you after 6 !! " What, you haven't used that excuse ? Am I the only one who thinks of such gems ?)

Seriously, how can you actually be taken in by teleevangelists, I always wonder. Just because they repeat stuff that has been written eons ago by the real BIG dudes, how do you equate them with God's messengers ? If I read Harry Potter to patients then, will I become Dumbledore's messenger ? Sheesh.. what about the whole " touch my hand through the TV and your ailments will miraculously heal " .. reaaaaaly ?Thenwhy don't we just give away recordings of that video of himreaching out to the video camera on his endin every hospital in the world when an accident patient comes in.. at best, they can use the video reel to tie up the wound and stop the bleeding... OOOOH !! IT'S A MIRACLE. PRAISE THE LORD !!!!

Then again, maybe I'm just being me - the Aquarian going against the tide. Because the more I think about it, the more I realise maybe it works. I mean, as a kid, I had really unmanageable hair and used to wish for it to be more ... 'manageable'. Lo and behold ! The miracle arriveth. Without even knowing it, I was aiming for a spiritual haircut and it's worked.. because I can see my hair recede with each and every year.. sure, it's a gradual process, but damn, it's permanent !!! Maybe those spiritual healers do have a point, huh ? Wonder if they can do the impossible though - SPIRITUAL MY BIG BUTT AWAY, MAGIC MAN !!!!! "

It's a boyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy !!!

And thus the miracle happened. And the child so young, looked up and wondered why this man who looked down upon him, merely hours after his birth, smiled so pricelessly, so happily, so .. evilly ? And the father, the lean one who towered above the cowering child smiled back - revealing his fanged extra canine.. and laughed heartily. He looked down upon the child and proclaimed -" Son, I name thee Voldemort."

And the baby cried.

Then again, I suppose that's what happened. I wasn't there. And while the incident above took place in a hospital, for once, I was miles away. You see, this famous delivery which finds its way into my blog is of none other than the child of two of my best friends with whom I shared most of my time in college, Pada and Cheeena, including breakfasts, lunches and dindins during internship. They were the first ones I'd turn to when in grave need of advice, were the first ones to raise apprehensions to my relationship at a time when all around were joining in my new found joy, were the first to rally around me after I'd hidden from the world .. distance has pushed us away, but memories continue to bring back a smile. So why am I and the others sending them weird messages at the news of their parenthood ?

Beeee-cause, finally, there's a baby boy in the batch. I mean, you have no idea how hilarious the situation was getting. With nearly 70 % of the batch married and half of them moms / dads, it was amazing that not a single one of their kids was a boy. When news filtered through of their impending parenthood, I had called up Chhenbeen and threatened her that if I heard they too joined the others and made us god -fathers to more god- daughters ( ?), I'd personally come down to Trivandrum and kick her ass. Hehe. Scared her goooood, cause finally the 99' batch , after a loong loong time has a baby boy to toast to.
Congrats guys. Thats one lucky kid. Think about it. Whenever a reunion of our batch does occur, he will be surrounded by a dozen plus girls his own age... oooh baby baby lucky baby.

But there is pain too. Because as the news arrived, I remembered old photos of my own birthdays as a kid. There were parties in which all my dad's friends were there to celebrate me the great ( I was probably 2 years old, which explains why I didn't have many friends over for that party ).. But the memory left me feeling sad.. because the way life has placed us all, I will never be there for anyone's kids as they grow up, unlike my dad's friends. I will never know them. Except for news from their dads or moms, they will never know me. Unlike my dad's friends who I knew as I grew up, life has placed us all so far apart that we will not be there for each other. Sms be damned. This isn't what I wanted in life.. Anyday, I would give it up for awhile ( hmm, a life of love and laughter vs 42 hours work, 6 hours sleep, 42 hours work ? - tough choice ), just to have the whole team together - to watch Pada as a dad, or Cheens trying to prove to her one year old daughter that she is indeed, more mature than her.. to just let that kid know I exist, that I was a part of their parents life.

There are so many regrets to live with in life. But for me, it always somehow comes down to the same fly in the soup - The regret of losing people. Of realising over and over again, that nothing lasts forever, that we have to move on and that no matter how badly you want to... sometimes you cannot be a part of other's lives.

Raihan, ( You didn't really think there's a Voldemort Pada running around in Trivandrum right now, didja ?) I don't know if I'll be a part of your life. I wish I could be more than "that crazy non Mallu MALLu" who nicknamed your dad Pada( after Padayappa, your dad was the only Tamilian in our batch.. you know he's Tamilian, right ?) and suggested you be named Shivaji to continue the legacy.. who sat behind your dad in all university exams and woke him up every day of college or vice versa, who needed your dad's help for any work to be done,..who hoped your mom and dad would get together when things looked bleak, who was perhaps the happiest in the batch when they got married... I'm more than that, kid. I'm Unca Rosh... the uncle you'll hardly ever get to see, I fear. And I hate that I can't be there to dance "my funky steps" at your hospital door today, not bothering who's watching..

It isn't a small world, as the song says. It's a big world and it's getting bigger. Technology maybe bringing us closer, but it's after taking us farer away from each other than would earlier have been possible. For those of you out there who still haven't realised it, treasure every memory, every friend while they are with you. Because nothing stays constant.. no matter how fixed the road of life appears to be, life has other plans you never even dreamed of..

P.S. Happy Birthday, Pads.....

The chronicles of far far away - the ogre, the chicken and my mom's medication!!!

God loves playing with my mind. Really, he does. It's like a cat who's got one paw on the mouse's tail and then keeps watching it scurry in all directions and rebound right back. He gives me concepts that not many think about and then lets my mind run amok till someone raps me on the head and says " What are you on???" You think I'm kidding you.. let me recap.

The Medicated : 3 months back, before I left for Pune, I had 'restarted' my mom's anti- hypertensive medication by getting her a new drug more compatible to her state. The day I left, I gave her 4 pills and asked her to continue with them once I was gone. Though in between, I had a return trip of a couple of days, I didn't really focus on her medication the second time around. It was only recently while talking to her on the phone that I asked her if she was still taking her pills.

Mom : Yup, there's 3 left on the table right now.

Me : That's good. When did you last refill ?

Mom : That day in March when you left.

Me : .....

This is why they ask us docs to be really clear when we say something to people, unlike our prescriptions that is actually written in ancient Hebrew, hence deemed illegible. Anyway, I guess mom thought since her son gave her the pills, she'd save it for special occasions.. like Christmas, Diwali, Independence day !!! Sigh.. it's tough being me.

The Patient : A friend called recently complaining of severe food poisoning. After offering him my esteemed opinion on medication, he asked me how I was surviving the change in food. I told him my altered food habits, including a brief mention on my burf gola addiction ( that's ice on a stick with syrups of questionable morality ). I told him how I was worried I'd end up as a diabetic eating the stuff. After a brief silence ( later found to be revulsion ), he replied :" dude, if you like burf golas, you have a lot more to be worried about than diabetes.. like a lack of taste !!! Atleast my food poisoning will go away". Smart ass. Wait till he gets my bill in the mail !!!

The Green balls: Was everyone cringing in fear during the 1st half of Shrek 3.. no ? Was it only me then ? The thing was, I was coming off another 24 hour duty and rushed across town early in the morning to catch the morning show at Inox. Of course, after flirting with the girl behind me in the queue who was also planning on a Shrek ticket, it ended up with me getting the last ticket, she giving me a dirty look ( Sigh.. no more she loves me ). Result : Instead of enjoying the movie with a cute stranger beside me, there I was right in the first row in front of the screen.. I have been warned of the amazing attention to detail in the movie, so I'm left watching through my fingers as Shrek prances around in his high kilt, in constant fear of whether I'm gonna get a glimpse of ogre balls !!! There are some things no doc is prepared for..big green ogre balls in a big screen is one among them.

The Dead Crowd: Ah yes! God on Earth. I went into the theatre for Shivaji looking to scream like all Anna fans are obligated to and throw coins or milk or whatever everyone else was gonna do.. hey, after all, its my 1st Rajni movie in a big screen !!! There I am all ready and waiting to bellow.. and nothing. The crowd was like a funeral procession of zombies ( huh ? ) .. you'd think it was an art movie rather than a 60 year old prancing around with a haw- teeeee babe, eating his chewing gum by bouncing it off the villains head and doing everything else I wanna do before I'm 30!!! While the movie was thoroughly Rajni-njoyable , the crowd was a sad sad anti climax. Who are you saving the cheers for, guys - Dino Morea ?????

The Chicken : To wash down the disappointment, we ( my room mate and I ) went to an average road side restaurant that night. After choking on the prices, we finally decided to go for the chicken tandoori. After all, roadside dhababs tend to sacrifice quality for quantity right. Oh ye silly foool Roshan. For lo and behold, the arrival of the chicken cleared my doubts. The price was not a reflection of the restaurant but of the chicken. It was a beauty contest winner chicken. I don't know if it wanted world peace too, but it must have been a beauty contest chicken, based on the degree of anorexia.. it gave new meaning to the whole term - skin and bones. The less said about it's chicken boobies, the better !!

As I leave you all, I leave behind this trailor of the just released TRANSFORMERS movie. Looks like they're bringing back all the old cartoons, what with news of SIMPSONS ( 17 YEARS old pal, they're old ), the recent Teenage turtles and news of Tintin and He-man coming soon. Sigh.. which cartoon would you love to see made into a movie ?

Thought for the week : Sure the early bird gets the worm, but have you thought about it from the point of view of that early worm ?