Respected Dear Doctor Dean Sir

Still cringing at the title? Yup, that was me for five years of medical college. Every damn time the dean came up on stage or had to address a gathering larger than two people, there'd be one person who introduced him as, "Respected Dear Dr. Dean Sir",and the rest (often just one) vociferously clapped. As if just calling him the Dean (which he is) or Dr.ABC (which he is), or Sir (which he is not, the Queen never called), wasn't enough. Ass licking of Grade A quality.  And every time they did that, or I'd read letters to the Dean starting off with, 'Respected sir', I'd hear the distinct high pitched voice of my ninth standard school teacher chiding us because that's grammatically wrong! Thanks ma'am, you've made me anal retentive for life. 

You'd think that after a few years, I'd begin to ignore this blasphemy of grammar, but it only got worse. And with time, I noticed that this ass licking extended to anyone in power. Not that these people ever noticed, but the minions tried anyway. I still hate the fact that so many fellow students one year my junior would call me 'Sir', because that's the established practice. It starts off in first year of med school when the freshers are "supposed" to respect the seniors, or face social purgatory. Dramatic, isn't it? In reality, not so much. The seniors may just rag on the juniors a little or refuse them help. All for what? False respect? For being born a year earlier? Yikes. Then there was our education department, where students regularly and loyally buttered up the clerks so that work may get done that tiny bit faster. Yes, ass lickers galore! If there is any difference between politeness & lunacy, the students failed to see it. 

"Hello Uncle, Aunty, how're you doing?". As a kid, this would be uttered multiple times a day. Everyone in our country is our uncle and aunt, and there isn't a damn thing you can do about it. Calling out to someone as Mister or Miss, is considered alienating them. But, the dynamics of Indian society heavily revolve around emotional blackmail and mental torture; so perhaps familiarizing yourself as family helps. We have problems with boundaries. I always felt that by giving relative unknowns more than their due respect, I was somehow belittling the relationships I already had. Having realized this, the supply of temporary aunts and uncles soon ceased in my life. 

While all these "respected" individuals and part-time uncles lead to a lot of awkwardness in our humdrum lives, it seems ridiculous when these principles start to spill over into the professional realm. From my personal experiences, relationships for the most part are extremely strained when they are between individuals working at different levels. Bosses feel superior in unjustifiable ways, and the workers, they help maintain the delusion. One knows all is not well at the office, when respect is commanded rather than earned.

While I was interning, I found I worked best under those residents who spoke freely, those who made me feel I was working with them, rather than for them. These are the sort of leaders you want at work, ones who you can speak to without fear of critical remarks, or being reminded of your place in the pecking order. I was lucky to met a few great seniors. Residents who wouldn't ever order dinner without asking where the interns were and when they'd get free; Professors who would call me into the OT just for kicks and then ask for coffee after; And people who were mostly just great guys looking for company, not an ego boost.

At the workplace, there needs to be some balance between hierarchy and equality. There isn't a building in the world that doesn't have its own version of a Power Pyramid. It is up to the people at the top to make those clutching at their trousers feel at ease. It is extremely difficult to work our way up when we are continually reminding ourselves of our place in the hierarchy, constantly projecting power to the person behind the bigger desk. We are just as much to blame for this as the person at the top. The line between respect and ass-licking is fairly large (Think large like elephants, football pitches, endless farms, Jupiter. You get the picture), and one that we continually ignore. 

One needs to be extra careful in our country, where promotions are decided more on basis of seniority & years served, than experience & expertise. Building camaraderie, not hierarchy, is important to working well together. How else will you promote competition and innovation not just within strata but between them? Make me feel like my excellence at work is foremost when it comes to rewarding and noticing me, then sit back and watch the magic happen. 

- (Just) Dr.SS

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Men Had It Coming To Them

There has been a lot of discussion in the past few months about the safety of women in India. A great offshoot, and one that has gained momentum in the past month, deals with discussing the status of women in our society. While I haven't yet come across any great article by a cultural anthropologist, this one is worth your time (Link).

While the chatter online has been positive, household & workplace discussions for the most part, are still archaic and disheartening. Why are these people still questioning why the Delhi rape victim was out with her boyfriend at night? Why are politicians still asking for skirts to be outlawed to "save" women from the fiendish eyes of men? Why must we question the integrity and morality of those women for doing that, which would be considered normal & acceptable for their male counterparts?

So in conclusion, the many recent news stories of female victims who are out drinking or traveling alone at night or showing too much leg or cleavage, have merited sympathy accompanied by that very idiotic afterthought, "What were they doing out there in the first place?"

If people think the blame for getting raped and murdered lies partially with the victim, they'll love my plan. Women, pick up your pepper sprays and batons and wait in groups outside nightclubs, pubs & descend upon any man who walks out alone, seems too inebriated waiting to be taken advantage of, or just has an extra shirt button open. Beat the crap out of him, & don't worry about the morality of it all. He had it coming to him. Why was he out in the night so late? Why was he out drinking? Obviously, men from "good" houses do not drink. How dare he walk out alone and without someone to protect him? Does he not know it's dangerous being out so late in our country? Is he not afraid of being raped or being killed? And why is he showing off so much of his chest? Yeah, he meets all the "had it coming to him" criteria that the Indian society seems to have deemed acceptable for women. 

Godspeed

Ambition

Aaaaaaaand I'm back

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In-a-body experience

Image Source

You lean against the wall, thoughts straying,
Until you can't remember how you got here.
You look across the room... & feel nothing,
The sight of your hand seems unfamiliar;
That it obeys your command, surreal.
You wonder if this body will take the punishment, this sense of freedom,
& then a familiar sense of carelessness, it comes flooding back.
Amazing how the right song and a pair of earphones
make you the loneliest philosopher in a crowded room

To Do List

Someone recently shared a picture with a To-Do List on Whatsapp that had me splitting with laughter! I take no credit for it, but thought I should share it with you!

Personal favorite: No.6!!

Source

Easy Living

There's been so much happening recently, I've been giving a lot of thought to what my 'life philosophy' actually is. Is everything I do as random as I think it is? The answer's so hilariously beyond me, it reminds me of the Roadrunner & Wile-E-Coyote; but here's what I think makes my days tick:

1. "That's what she said!"
   These glorious words should only be used for that spiritually enlightening game of sexual innuendo & double entendre. Using it to bitch about someone is just depriving someone of a good laugh! Not familiar with the game? You'll find the light here
   
   
2. Tell your friends just how amazing they are
   Why? Because they are! Boss making you miserable? Girlfriend won't give you head? Marks slipping? Rubbed your local mob the wrong way? There's always at least one person to help you out. If not, at least find a friend who bakes. Yumm, the sweet taste of misery
   
   
3. Go hug your mom at least twice a day
   There's an acute shortage of mothers in the world. Everyone has just one. Tells yours she's special.
   
   
4. Question everything
   What's the reason I'm here? How can I win her over? What can I do to succeed professionally? How can I make the world a better place? Why won't this itch go away? Figuring out the right question is half the battle won. 
   
   
5. Make Love, Not War
   Stop spending so much time fighting or arguing with people; & especially stop investing energy in avoiding 'mortal enemies'. Unless you have a Batcave or come from the planet Krypton, you can't afford to have mortal enemies! Stop sulking & skirmishing. Move on. And oh yeah, have sex. No particular reason. Well, you know what I mean. 

I'm sure I've missed a few important points, but you couldn't possibly handle anything longer. 

THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID!

You Chose Already, Now My Turn

Someday when you're unlucky, I'll kill you with my words. Start running away right now.

- A wise wise woman

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Dear friend with the beautiful back, 'cause that's all I see now,

I chose to write to you. The convolution of the situation was scalding me & I chose to walk away. No, I didn't admit defeat, I didn't cower, I chose to do the sane thing, I wrote. I wrote because I can always erase the hurtful words I write, before they reach the person they're meant for, I can vent without being angry. I wrote because I can't really take back the things I angrily say, that which I don't think through, mean or don't believe in. I wrote because it's difficult to be angry at a letter, because when we're at war, seeing you makes me want to sit down with you; seeing me, makes you want to run away.

If you thought I was wrong, why didn't you just say so. I would've let you shout, scream, moan, throw your arms & legs up in the air. I would've gone through it all because you were more hurt than I. Why'd you choose to walk away instead? It aches to think years together have whittled down to nothing more than distance. Before you left, you used the choicest of words. You tore the flesh from my bones, clinically dissected my mental faculty & still had some left to share with others around you. You told me of your bitterness I wasn't aware of, of problems that I thought were long gone. You chose to bring them up, because when there's that much blood spilled already, some more would surely help you vent. What's worse is you committed yourself to your words. You stood by your decisions. I'd salute your steadfastness, if only I could justify it. 

Isn't there just the slightest chance we're both at fault here? Had we deteriorated without notice? Yes, you're the judge, jury & executioner. You based our relationship on your account of that one day. You're impervious to my pleas, ignorant of the truth, & in denial of what I meant to you. You may say you're angry enough, but you're not, unless you're going to punch me. Unless you're eager to land a right-hook, there's still hope. Because when the smoke blows over, there isn't any nuclear winter, just a few people getting on with their lives. 

Its more a game of time than words right now, & too much has passed. I'm tired of writing. I'm wiser because, I finally realize that letting go has its own charm. I have many friends, none better, but I chose to fight for you. And now, I choose to walk away from you. 

Maybe someday, you'll look back at what happened & a doubt will creep in. You'll wish you'd chosen your words wisely. Maybe, someday you'll move on, not walk away; you'll remember how intimately I loved you, our time together. 

Maybe someday, I'll turn & there won't be any time for letters; I'll tear you apart with my words, except I won't be there to stitch you up again. Would you fight for me then?

Superficially Me

Its been over a year now & no, it hasn't washed away, although I did once have a nightmare that it did. I thought discussing my tattoo would only mean narrating why I got it; instead I've got stories to share about what happens during and after as well.

Lesson #1: Needles hurt. Who knew?

Yeah it hurts, but its not really pain. Its this indescribable mix of scorching heat, vibration, pressure & a couple of IMs going in at once. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't apprehensive. Thoughts of choosing between whiskey, tequila, paracetamol & Tramadol kept going through my head. Eventually, I chose a girl to hold my hand.

I have the tattoo over my upper back, a good place as the skin here is thick and from what I've read, relatively insensitive to pain. Medicine never taught me the meaning of "relative".

And yes, its not funny when the stupid machine cords start tickling your lower back & the artist thinks you're tensing up because of the pain. I don't think he bought that story; not a proud moment for yours truly.

Would I do it again? Yes!! This damn thing brings out the masochist in you.

Lesson #2: Exhibitionism is out of the question

I've always thought people get the most amazing tattoos on their wrists, or the inside of their forearms, but its forbidden territory for doctors. I wouldn't personally get one anywhere that was easily visible. Its just that every physician is supposed to conform to the layman's idea of a competent doctor. You wouldn't ever want to be in a plane flown by a pilot wearing his hat backwards, would you? That being said, this tattoo was personal & I'm deeply attached to it. I don't think about whether its visible to the world. Its very cliched to say this, but I got it for ME! My shoulders, arms & feet though are reserved for future.

Also, I'd take this moment to thank my friends, who've never refrained from ripping apart t-shirt collars to get a better look.

Lesson #3: There'll always be 'people'

I was posted in I.Med last summer & still remember beads of sweat rolling down my nose when I did my post-emerg collections. I avoided my coat like the plague. So, I'm strolling ahead of my Unit Head during rounds & she goes, "Is that a tattoo?". I just nodded and slowled my pace to let her pass me. I thought she'd stop; except, (long pause) she didn't. She then did this great impression of a National Geographic journalist interviewing the tribes of the Amazon."How much does it hurt? How much did it cost you? Does your family know? Is it safe? Where did you get it? Why did you get it? I swear if my son one day walked upto me and told me he wanted to get a tattoo, he wouldn't have a home anymore. Personal reasons?! I don't really understand your generation." I looked at my registrar amid all this & we shared a simultaneous facepalm moment.

Other nicer instances include a Gynac nurse who almost hit me on the back because she thought the halo was a bug & then proceeded to get all the nurses to gang up on me to show it to them. Did you have a facepalm moment right now too? See, we're bonding.

Lesson #4: Those lingering moments of doubt eventually wither away

Of course, there were times after I'd taken the plunge when there were genuine doubts.
Did I make the right call?
Didn't he open the needles in front of me? Damn! Should've checked the seals myself
Maybe I could've gone with different artwork
Does this seem lopsided to you?

But, I love it & am at peace with it. I would've done a million things differently, if I'd had time. But, I suppose anyone would be that paranoid with something this permanent. Eventually, I'm going to go get some white retouches done on this to add more details at the flexion of the wing. But, I'd never change its structure, or what it says.

Lesson #5: Bis Vivit Qui Bene Vivit - One who lives well, lives twice

Those are the words I chose for my angel. This was my little slice of closure over losing someone close to me. And that's the lesson I hold dearest. I read the statement in two different ways.

One should live their lives to the fullest, take in all they can, because a life truly 'lived' is worth twice one spent in vain. 

A person who's been honest & good to those around him, deserves another chance. 

Getting inked wasn't ever about holding onto a memory or letting go. It was just honouring someone, knowing I have a keepsake with me, a sliver of where I'm from and what made me.

Superficial

Did it hurt?

Is it permanent?

What's that supposed to mean?

Why'd you get it done?

Can doctors have them?

Why?!

Thanks Bill

Bill Watterson created a fantastic world with Calvin & Hobbes in 10 years. He finally decided to end the strip gracefully while he was still at his peak, not wanting this iconic strip to overstay its welcome or lose relevance. Here's the final comic that ran on December 31st 1995. I think its very apt for this particular phase of my life:

(c) Bill Watterson 

I think we dream so we don't have to be apart so long. 

If we're in each other's dreams, we can play together all night.

-Bill Watterson