The Box/Boxes

Women are not only born with a higher emotional quotient, rather with time they keep adding to their emotional baggage. Baggage, literally. From the tender age of may be 4 or 5 they start adding importance to millions of even inanimate stuff. It may be their first ‘good’ in class. Or the first paper boat. Pencil shavings. The first Barbie. Birthday candles. Ribbons. Frocks. Envelopes. Leaves. It may all seem useless. But dare you tell her. Ask her. Each of it has a long story and significance. And she’ll tell you with great enthusiasm. She’ll tell you with a heavy heart. She is missing that moment, even now, big time.
I spoke to my friend who was getting married in two days. She was packing her bags. It even included the new tooth-brush, new comb. Blah. Everything new! Got me laughing. I discussed it with my mom who by current standards was prematurely married. She said every li’ll or big thing is new. While the world is dancing and screaming, as soon as she steps into the new house, her gut is wrenching. She’s scared. She’s apprehensive.
She’s missing the old. Her family. Her friends. The child inside her. Her innocence. Her box. Her box of those wrappers, cards, bindis, pics of her dream heroes. She couldn’t have carried it to her new house. It would almost be abused of being some junk. And it may seem small. But it isn’t! My mom had this box too. I was shocked. You always expect your parents to be so mature. She said it so sweetly. Her wooden box with a million things. For a long time she would go back and check it in her old cupboard in her mom’s house. And the kid would feel nice. Then time passed. Houses passed. People passed. And guess today she remembered it for the first time after so long! I stupidly asked, ma where is that box..
In medical school we are often taught when a child first cries, smiles, recognizes parents, coos and babbles. But we haven’t been taught when a girl child realizes that she will go through something called ‘marriage’. That she belongs to the species that shifts base. May be the fact sinks rather late in life or she wouldn’t have made her box so huge n heavy.
Am in that age too, you know, where someone may appear anytime and fly me off to distant lands. Cool as it may seem, it does make me become a li’ll too protective and insecure about my stuff. Daddy’s letter’s, cards from friends all over the place, mementos of first dates, pre-digital pics. I may never have an autobiography but these things are the hard evidence of my happy eventful lifetime of 25 yrs. I so hope I am able to keep them safe forever!

OPD

Telling a frail grand-mom to watch out for wet floors;
listening patiently to the long story of an old man;
warning an uncle to walk half an hour everyday;
comforting a doting father that his child will be alright;
teaching a young mother that her health is her most important job;
scolding a lanky fellow not to make mountains of a mole hill;
suggesting diet plans to a slightly healthy girl.
A hold on the arm. A pat on the back. A half hug.
A serious look with a smile.
Humbled by a fold of hands.
From a small desk, I live my dream of the most wonderful job in the world!

Bonded Labour

I’ve never thought am growin old or becoming more in charge. That am mature or that am big enough. In my professional life so far, its either been independence or workin for someone as a junior or as part of a team. For a whole lot part of life previously, I was a student.

It’s a rather weird situation increasingly prevalent in my life that I’ve more powers. Have people workin under me and for me. They call me 'madam/ma'am'. Sisters and interns. I am in a position to decide how their day turns out or their night. How early or late they go home. Whether they are able to enjoy a festival. I am doin post-graduation.
I can’t handle it! I can’t stand someone subservient to me! I don’t deserve it! Either I do the work on my own or let there be no such work!.. They may not mind it. They may follow me and even like me. But I feel guilty! I end up telling a sorry while askin ‘em to write a patient’s discharge summary at an odd hour. To put a urine catheter. To shift a bad patient to ICU. Work-up a patient I admit in the middle of night. It’s a part of their job. But they are under direct orders from me. And I’m helpless. As part of our duties we all have well defined work. I couldn’t be doin everythin on my own too. It’s odd. This feelin. I can’t handle the power. I wanna finish asap. Not the least bit to end my odd bondage as a senior!

Dead Body

Was it the eeky feeling or the shame of having been disrespectful. Stepping on a dead-body can hardly incite positive feelings. Rather fills u with disgust. How could u not realise. Yikes! But it was unintentional and inevitable. They were strewn all across the floor. Lots of them. Early morning dead honey-bees in the corridor. Lonely souls must have struggled all night.

Don’t they have a family? Who could burn them? Or carry them on a stetcher and bury them? Say a pray for them? I jus brushed the ones in my path so I could save any guilt of being the heartless human.
But then I was glad. I was a human. Atleast when we’re dead they’ll do these nice rituals. Cremation. Burial. A citation full of praise and respect. A touch of the holy waters. Nice. No human disregards a dead-body.
A terrorist won’t kill a dead man. They won’t build nuclear weapons if everyone was dead. If the pubs had dead girls they couldn’t pull them by the hair and throw them on the floor. The politicians won’t exploit dead people, their money or faith. No one will exploit dead poor children. No one will rape a dead girl. A dead pregnant woman shall be cared for better.
To be dead is good if u’re a human. There’s peace and lovin. I’m glad am a human. Such bliss in death!

A Breather

I was feeling it last night. The pressure in the head. Flight of ideas. Gave a few missed calls. Had finished coupla chapters on ECG and roomie slept off too at the end of a healthy bitchin session. No calls returned. Had been a week I had breathed. Hopital, readin, hospital, readin. Home was distant in the past. Looks distant in the future. I wanna unload. Anythin to anyone.
It was the perfect bad mornin. Got up at 8.55. Dashed straight from the bed to check my patients and then attend the customary round with consultant. Phew! All's well that ends ok. A couple of lectures for juniors and I was looking at a long day unfinished. Some more ECG or The Reader? Pondering over a glass of juice when my colleague-friend joined me. A lazy horrible lunch. Draggin feet back to the room. She suggested I sat some with her though my senses wanted to take me back to books. I didn't think long. Thank God. Half lied down with her.
‘How was your friend's marriage, Siri?’
‘Was good. Got a major feelin seein them tying the knot. They were that couple of the batch everyone jus likes to talk about. Will they won't they? I met all the class guys I never used to talk to. Can u believe that. I didn’t speak to guys then!’
‘! That’s odd.’
‘I was in third when my friend in the colony told me we should have a guy jus for ourselves!! And we used to tie the one she liked and bring him to her!!’
‘Siri, yeah. That age of innocence. In Chandigarh we used to have this huge lawn in every block. We used to come back from school and catch a li'll nap. Take a bath, wear knee length socks and shoes and go runnin to play with till 8!.. Ah, what life!
The kids today are under so much pressure. I see these kids in class 4 goin for tuitions with huge bags in the afternoon heat. Moms are more educated but less tolerant. And then u speak to kids in middle school. So what ya play in the eve? Some comp game or TV.. What on TV.. Kyunki saas bhi kabhi bahu thi. Bull shit. Siri what's become of childhood!
Siri and the cell-phones! Remember that life. Am so glad we had school pre telecom boom. There was no encroachment of one's personal space. Siri I think I wanna bring my kids up in a tiny town with gardens for very house and I wanna teach them myself and they'll play all day for greater part of school life and definitely no cell phone and no competition in school with rich kids, though am sure they'll always have enough money in the family. Siri are u gettin me. I owe them a good time in life. Siri?’
‘Ok ok relax. You not havin a kid already. Don’t get so stirred.’
‘Siri it was a good life. Our childhood. No pressure on the brain except may be a li’ll embarrassment if u standin outside the class because u made an ugly doll for the craft class. Ha! Art craft dance music, a new song for every season. Games period. Moral science lectures. We used to listen to them more seriously than today’s anatomy class!.. Gimme that life! Siri lets go back! In 5 yrs I’ll touch thirty! Siri am old. Siri I’ll commit suicide if I hit 30!'
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!.. A good laugh. Silence. Staring at the ceiling. Smiling. Blank. Swellin of the lighter heart. Its been a cool life. Fun at that. And we had jus talked of inconsequential stuff, issues closer to the heart than the immediate life. Had been time we disconnected from the present. And glad we did. Life shall go on. What can u do or undo. Headed to the room. A happy peaceful nap and ECG.

The Quote on My Wall

'Desire is the key. I don't feel it consistently. But when I have it, I can't be beaten.' .. Chris Evert.