Random Childhood Memorabilia

A dry May and a dripping June bringeth all things in tune. Such are the ways of childhood; some sunshine and some shades and what you get is a perfect blend of life in return. During my growing years, I tried my hands at every possible sport. And as I did that I found as if I was having a look at my own inner world, from different dimensions and varying focal lengths, of course. I used to be the ace shooter for my basketball team and contributed heavily in a series of triumphs in various tournaments. Playing basketball gave me that urbane edge, that stylish connotation. I used to play cricket also; my primary role was that of an off-break baller, though I fitted in the skin of an all rounder perfectly; I loved to keep the wickets on ‘as and when required’ basis. I used to score runs when in need, used to be electric in field and used to rough up the umpire on an odd day.

I was this typical Indian teenager, full of fracas and froth. The days gave enough reasons to be jubilant, and the night gave enough reasons to sleep tight. As the final exams of 9^th class were approaching, my jig at sports blessed me with fractured patella bone (right sided), and to my apprehension, I had to miss the classes for a good two months. It came as a shock, as an eye opener you may say. It was so difficult sitting at home and not doing any activities that mention sports; it was like arriving at a screeching halt from a full throttle ride. It was one of the palpable Kafkaesque experiences of my life, and I can still feel the gloom that used to haunt me then.

Glory, uninterrupted.

Let your triumphs define you. There are two broad types of triumphs, or rather two kinds of ability displayed in the achievement of triumph by us. There is, first, the success either in big packages or small packages which comes to the man who has in him the innate power to do what few other can match; and what no amount of training, no determination or will power, will enable any run of the mill man to do unless the urge is pure and unyielding. The quality which the man possesses may be that which enables him to run a fifty yards in six and three-fourth seconds, or to play twenty separate games of chess at the same time blindfolded. No amount of training of body or mind would enable any good ordinary man to perform any one of these accomplishments.

This is the most outstanding and distinguishing kind of success and it can be attained only by the man who has in him the quality which separates him in kind no less than in degree from his fellows. But much the commoner type of success in every walk of life, in small moments and in small packages. This kind of success is open to a voux populi, if only they seriously determine to achieve it. It is the kind of success which is open to the average man of sound body, intact insight and fair mind, who has no remarkable mental or physical attributes, but who gets just as much as possible in the way of work out of the aptitudes that he does possess. As it is said popularly ‘every man must skin his own skunk’, we are the designers & the architects of our successes. 

An affair to remember

I remember my early days in operation theatres when I used to observe the procedures being done by my professors; it used to give me such a giant thrill those days. I used to observe every single happening in operation theatre with a child-like keenness; the dazzling sight of newly arranged surgical instruments; magic-like burst of rays from OT light, as if the light would heal in itself; the pre-operative fervor in preparing the patient; the penultimate moment before the scalpel touches the skin to make first incision; everything seems so astutely fallen in proper places.

As a child and a youth, the scene in films where they used to depict an Operation Theatre with a room that had a red bulb, an authoritative bulb I must say, used to make me feel the moments of anxiety that relatives of a patient had to experience while waiting outside Operation Theatre with their glances fixed on that red bulb. Even today, I am pretty moved by the relatives who wait outside the Operation Theatre to receive the best news at the earliest. How can one not move by such events? I mean we have our own emotional side, which turns vulnerable at times; and certain virtues don’t loose their sheen with the passing days. 

Compassion is a quality that a patient always tries to find out in his doctor, and the moment he sees a hint of that, his faith swells with multitudes. I make it a point to keep the relatives amply updated about the status of their patient who remains inside the ‘red bulb’ territory for this is the next best thing I can do apart from operating the patient in my best skills; I feel this is one small step in making the world a kind place.

Good looking apples are sometimes sour

Life is a glorious outcome of little pieces of randomness where events are not as random as they seem in the first sight. For every little thought there lies a motive in the backseat; conscious, unconscious or subconscious. We win friends in our life times; the friends who remain there with you to vitiate the poisonous fangs of adversities; we earn enemies in our life times; the enemies who fail to recognize you as the flesh-and-soul versions of their own alter-egos.

You know a man by the sweat of his brow and the strength of his word. Life would present before you an assortment of masquerades, for you to judge and make the choices that help you soar high. If you want something, take positive action to get it: Ask, and it shall be given you—don’t just sit there hoping that something will turn up. As you brew so shall you drink; it’s as simple as that. You expect to see ghouls and you would start seeing them; you focus on the wafer-thin stream of white light and you would start seeing it. We, ourselves, are responsible for the opportunities we get and for the chances that we miss.

Probably the only difference between stumbling blocks and stepping-stones is the way we use them.

God gives nuts, but he doesn’t crack them

Life is an equal opportunity beneath the sheaths. It doesn’t eschew one at the face value, but embraces people with a clear mind and warrior instinct. The chances are equal; everyone gets the same supply of sunrays and morning whiff of air. Everyone has been given the measures to experience dejection and pleasure. Hope thrills everyone; opportunity strikes every door; a 6 year old’s smile charms every sinking soul; people perceive the tastes and smells equally; the sight of a blooming flower is soothing to eyes, both to a child and a veteran.

God gives senses and instinct to attain an understanding with the available options, and then to explore them in the way you like it to reap the best results. Just like they say ‘Trust in Allah, but tie your camel’. One is expected to toil for one’s needs and desires, for nature is automated in this very way; nothing bequeaths you just like that, there is an intact, and sometimes complex, purpose behind the curtains. Its us who have the power to make a difference in the way we live our lives. Like they say in Yiddish, Everyone is kneaded out of the same dough, but not baked in the same oven.

Since birth, we are exposed to different philosophies, different cultures, different religions and different bent of minds; we must practice our own inner intellect and intuition to select a path that illumines the way to our destinies. We must be more receptive to changes; like they say if the Stone Age children had obeyed their parents, we would still be living in the Stone Age. Every mind is a factory in itself that has the ability to churn something really new; we must stop being repetitive for this defies the primordial purpose of life. Seek out the truths with open mind and embrace the source of pleasure, which lies just inside your own shell.

The legend, Sushruta

Whenever I get sometime, I like to explore the lives of past surgeons and doctors to know their thought process, their times and their contributions to the society.  I feel, like most of my colleagues, extremely fascinated by the life of Sushruta. Sushruta, the father of surgery, who lived nearly 150 years before Hippocrates, brilliantly described the fundamental principles of surgery in his famous ancient treatise 'Sushruta Samhita' (1,2) in 600 B.C . Sushruta taught the surgical demeanors to his students on various modules, such as, giving incisions on fleshy fruits and vegetables (like watermelon, cucumber, gourd etc.), probing on moth infested and worm eaten wood which acquires soft consistency etc.

Sushruta strongly believed and advocated that knowledge of both surgery and medicine are essential to make a good doctor who otherwise is akin a bird with only one wing. Sushruta had been a staunch believer in importance of knowing anatomy well for anyone who wished to become a doctor, or a healer.  For most of use, it would be hair-raising to know about knowledge base of Sushruta even in those days. Shushruta has astutely described surgery under eight heads C hedya (excision), Lekhya (scarification), Vedhya (puncturing), Esya (exploration), Ahrya (extraction), Vsraya (evacuation) and Sivya (Suturing).

On of the famous sayings of Sushruta that is often quoted in high-profile seminars these days says, ‘Any one, who wishes to acquire a thorough knowledge of anatomy, must prepare a dead body and carefully observe and examine all its parts’. Upon knowing the legends of Sushruta, one automatically tends to think of the role and scope of pre-surgical anesthesia in those days. Sushruta famously writes that wine should be used before operation to produce insensibility to pain. The patient who has been fed, does not faint, and he who is rendered intoxicated, does not feel the pain of the operation. It makes me feel so inspired when I turn around pages of history in want of surgeons who contributed in their own ways. They had eaten more salt than we have eaten rice. Long live Sushruta ! 

Only love is real