Long way, long drive

road

 

Long drive on a lonely road,

Behind the glares and hands on steering wheel.

Care no more of messy hair or sweaty shirt,

Daring scorching sun and air

It’s a long way

It’s a long drive

 

 

Wish, I so wish

I had control on my life

Wish, I so wish

I had a company

 

All the misery in your mind

Forget it and feel.

Feel the speed, Feel breeze,

Dwell in the loud music up on your radio

It’s a long way

It’s a long drive

 

 

Wish, I so wish

I felt like this now and then

Wish, I so wish

I could forget and move on.

 

You see, you are half way there

No more signals, no more directions

All you see is a lonely road till the horizon,

And, still, you don’t know where you go.

It’s a long way

It’s a long drive

 

Wish, I so wish

No one misses me when am on this long drive

Wish, I so wish

This drive never ends till I my last breath.

Now, I like this long way

I feel free, I feel so free.

 

-Love Thyself-

 

 

 

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DEDICATED TO ALL Medical Students.

Below is a post I came across on Doctors Hangout. Worth a read:

The arduous journey begins somewhere when we impulsively get hooked on to Biology in spite of being good at Physics, Math and Chemistry. You begin to nurture the dream by juggling hard with P, C, B….
A good CET rank is the first step in the murky, uncertain waters of Medicine. Medical college is like the quick sand that engulfs you and sucks you into an unknown void even before you know what is happening. Deadlier than the most poisonous asphyxiant it squeezes the life out of you by suffocating you with vigorous pressure.
If Anatomy or Biochemistry fails to scare you, Clinical medicine or viva shall surely blow the sail out of your winds. If you thought passing the exams was a relief, wait till the work load of internship consumes you.
If you thought internals and exams caused you loss of sleep wait till the frenzy night duties make you a nocturnal zombie. But the worst frustration begins even before the joy of being a graduate of medicine sinks in.
If you thought you realized your dream of being a doctor and you deserve adulation, you will realize only after being hurt incessantly by pestering relatives that a MBBS degree is like a baby babble, a toddlers first step- nobody listens to you and you are still not strong enough to stand on your own feet.
You’ll soon realize that the world doesn’t care about your self-esteem of being a MBBS doctor when every tom, dick and harry that is unworthy of a simple degree tells you that only MBBS is useless; Or when unrelated strangers ask you ’when will you do MD?’
The first sign of frustration sets in when you realize that all your strenuous and perseverant efforts all these years haven’t been able to get you respect, lucre, position and glamour-the things you had long since attached with being a doctor.
Seeing your nerdy seniors struggling with various entrances, their various agendas, and methods of preparation and numerous coaching classes that treat you like a nursery student, you now get really scared of the long journey ahead.
Peer pressure makes you believe getting a PG seat is all that matters. If you can sustain the combined efforts of frustration and stagnation to subdue you and show resilience with each failure you may succeed in getting a PG seat after at least a year of intense struggle.
The hectic schedule, the lack of a social life, continuous subservience to seniors and professors, coordinating between two hotheaded consultants and over-burdening academics takes away the charm of long cherished PG life. If you learn to pull yourself smoothly out of tricky situations and maintain good rapport with your HOD and books simultaneously, you may pass your final exam without any hassle. No, the life is not settled yet.
You just sailed through one of the rough tides of this turbulent sea. The politics in professional practice, the cut-throat competition, the bickering and back-stabbing show you the ugly face of your profession. Although appointed as a consultant, even now you are just a kid that recently graduated from boyhood.
After all these struggles you now realize people seek experience. And now you wait for your hair to turn grey if the life’s friction hasn’t bleached them already. But even in this demoralizing list of endless struggles, if you are a good and humane doctor, once in a while you will encounter a situation that erases all your frustrations in a moment; that eases out all your tensions for a moment; that makes you feel worthy of your life full of struggles.
That is the momentous occasion when a patient who presented in a critical state and was revived back to normalcy thanks you profusely and says with folded hands and teary eyes “you are a veritable god for me”. The contentment you feel within is probably more worthy than anything money could buy !
Thank you God for making me a doctor !!
— Dr. Subrahmanyam Karuturi

Dream and the after thought.

I was so tired yesterday. Never realized when I fell asleep only to have this dream which I can never forget.

The Vivid Dream:
Dream that made me cry in bed. A very bad dream. It was the last day of my friend at college as she was discontinuing due to some health issues. The bell had rung and classes were cancelled. I haven’t met her since long. She has left with another friend of mine. I run down stairs. I am crying like a lunatic. She stops at the balcony. I want to go and see her. Some one stops me from behind. I don’t stop. I go forward. She turns around, I couldn’t identify her. She has gone so weak unable to even talk or smile. She is less than half the size of what she was, mere skin and bone. I hug her, she couldn’t even hug me back. 😥 There was just a silence. I drop down crying endlessly and inconsolably. Then I wake up to find my pillow wet.

Train of thoughts:
 This dream makes me wonder if I am a game for all the pain and suffering one goes through. Being a doctor, I have seen the suffering, have suppressed my real emotions and gathered the courage to show compassion and console the ill and the grieving family. Yet there have been times when I have turned blind eye and walked away being indifferent to the happening as I knew I would loose my composure and let my colleagues handle the situation. If not, could I face the such a situation without these defense mechanisms?

It hurts whenever a patient you had been close to, in just 2-3 days, becomes worse or passes away. I can’t imagine (lest that comes in my dreams and wetting pillow) the same thing about my loved ones. Hearing about those who have seen their loved ones suffer till the dooms day, walking with them, seeing them worsen daily and still feeling helpless that they can’t reduce the pain of their loved ones suffering. All they can do is to give them emotional support, which sounds ridiculous as they themselves are emotionally shattered! Still they manage to fake a smile and lie by giving word of hope to their loved one knowing the inevitable bitter truth.

  That is why, I assume, experienced doctors avoid emotional trip by not getting too personnel with their patients, but only to be slandered as being indifferent and snout doctor . And the profession demands such a behavior else its difficult to face what we come across chronically on the floor. Which they try to do by being objective, faking that they are strong to face death as a normal event, use sarcasm and humor while talking to vent out the emotional burden. It puts them through so much of stress that some, not all, succumb alcohol or psychedelics. Sad, but that is the truth, thanks to high level of emotional, mental and physical stress a doctor has to go through. People think doctors are heartless, ultra practical jerks but in reality they experience high degree of emotional turmoil which they have to cope up with or it is not possible to the kind of job being done to save the life at the cost of their own mental sanity.

Yes, I have faked the strength to face death regularly and I will continue to do so. As it is said “Fake it till you make it” and it holds good for everyone. Every bit of me wants me to drop there and cry when I can’t see that kid whom I was following up for past a week, who used to greet me with a smile every morning and today the bed is empty. But I know, I have to move on. Life goes on. Back to being doctor on floor.

Dated: 30/12/2012

PS: this is straight from my diary, these are my thoughts hope not to offend my fellow medicos and others.

Worth a read: Running In The Rain

Sharing a nice piece of Article I came across.

A little girl had been shopping with her Mom in Target. She must have been 6 years old, this beautiful red haired, freckle faced image of innocence. It was pouring outside. The kind of rain that gushes over the top of rain gutters, so much in a hurry to hit the earth it has no time to flow down the spout. We all stood there under the awning and just inside the door of the Target.

We waited, some patiently, others irritated because nature messed up their hurried day. After a few minutes, a sweet little voice broke the hypnotic trance we were all caught and said, “Mom, let’s run through the rain!” “What?” Mom asked.

“Let’s run through the rain!” She repeated.

“No, honey. We’ll wait until it slows down a bit,” Mom replied.

This young child waited about another minute and repeated, “Mom, let’s run through the rain.”

“We’ll get soaked if we do,” Mom said.

“No, we won’t, Mom. That’s not what you said this morning,” the young girl said as she tugged at her Mom’s arm.

“This morning? When did I say we could run through the rain and not get wet?”

“Don’t you remember? When you were talking to Daddy about his cancer, you said, ‘If God can get us through this, he can get us through anything!'”

The entire crowd stopped dead silent. I swear you couldn’t hear anything but the rain. We all stood silently. No one came or left in the next few minutes. Mom paused and thought for a moment about what she would say.

“Honey, you are absolutely right. Let’s run through the rain. If God let’s us get wet, well maybe we just needed washing,” Mom said.

Then off they ran. We all stood watching, smiling and laughing as they darted past the cars and yes, through the puddles. They held their shopping bags over their heads just in case. They got soaked. But they were followed by a few who screamed and laughed like children all the way to their cars.

And yes, I did. I ran. I got wet. I needed washing.

Circumstances or people can take away your material possessions, they can take away your money, and they can take away your health. But no one can ever take away your precious memories… So, don’t forget to make time and take opportunities to make memories everyday. To everything there is a season and a time to every purpose under heaven.

I hope you still take the time to run through the rain.

The ever insecure life one leads in today’s world

My Terror phobia
 Day today news about serial bomb blasts, terrorist attacks has created a mass phobia which everyone experiences the moment they step out of their secure nests for a living.  Especially those travelling in the public transports like in bus, metro, trains and in public places where there is a lot of crowd. Amidst the noise, honking horn, vehicles sneaking through traffic while one stands in the cozy bus stops there is not a day which passes without people mulling over the idea of impending terrorist attack or a bomb blast.

 For one instance, I was returning to Bangalore having visited my relatives by Intercity express.  I got into the ever crowded general coach and managed to get a place to sit but it was notmy favourite window seat. In the hot summer it had heated up so much that it felt as if I was in an oven. I hated the typical smell of general coach, with everyone drenched in sweat it was unbearable.

 Trying to avoid the unpleasant stench and being squeezed from either side, I started a conversation with the fat lady beside me which lasted for few minutes and then I was back to being myself. Trying to look out through the window, playing games on my cell phone, reading a borrowed local news paper to pass time. I was done with them all, yet only the second station had passed. I groaned this was getting too hard and I could not sleep either, being squeezed between the fat lady and elderly woman made it impossible. Checked my bag for earphones to listen songs in my phone, to my utter dismay I had forgotten to fetch them ended up cursed myself. Now, all I could do is stare at people and barred windows for eight long hours.

   A gentleman in front of me was playing an old Hindi song on his ‘China Set’ mobile loud enough to be heard by the whole coach. Normally, I would be annoyed by such a thing but now it was actually the lone source of entertainment and felt good. Soon the train arrived at third station, more people got down and few got in. A tall dark bearded man in his mid-thirties, carrying too many luggage came and sat on the side berth besides us. He wore a green Afghani kurti, a black vest, leather shoes and a white topi. He slid his suitcase below the seat and kept on heavy black bag up on the luggage rack. He sat down and checked the time, took out his cell and spoke in Urdu which I barely understood. Then he sat quietly looking out of the window and never made eye contact with anyone. 
 I had stopped being aware of the unpleasant smell, the uncomfortable position I was sitting or the song that played loudly. This man had caught my attention I couldn’t help from checking out this man (let me remind that he was not that good looking enough to think I am stalking him). Probably its his demeanor that put him out of place or there was something more to it? He took out a beaded mala and started chanting in Arabic for some time. My eye moved to the black bag on the rack. It was a rectangular small bag, I wondered what could be there in that it is so heavy.  Tiny droplets of sweat started to appear on my forehead thinking what if there was a deadly explosive in it, I wiped it off with back of my hand. Looked at my other co-passengers if any of them were noticing what I did. But they were in there own world; the man in front me playing music had dozed off, two women besides him were busy discussing about the TV serial they regularly watched while their kids played, fat lady beside me was snoring  while the elderly woman was reading Geeta.

 It was only me with all paranoid thoughts running in my mind. I tried to shrug off the wild ideas and to shift my attention to something else. So, I took out my daily account diary started to enter details of how much I spent which I hadn’t past two days.  As I was writing I dozed off, thanks to mental exhaustion my mind was going through and it had shut down.  After a while I woke up, I rubbed my eyes to clear my vision and the man with beard was not there. I checked his baggage and they were still there!! I recollected if any station had passed while I had dozed and check my watch,  it was an hour since I slept off, given that definitely train must have stopped at one or two station. My hands were wet, I could hear my heart beat and I swept through the train of thoughts again. What if that suspicious man is from a terrorist organisation? And had got down the train? Are there really explosives in the bag up there and explode anytime? Should I alert other co-passengers? Then I tried to calm myself by saying I am just overtly paranoid. Yet, neither was I able to get out of this nagging feeling of something bad is going happen nor sit quietly at one place. So, I got up to check out this man. I excused myself and asked that elderly lady to look after my bag.

 The detective me:
I walked to the one end of the coach and waited near the door  as the both toilets for occupied. I just stood there to see if that man was in a toilet and would come out but in vain. Then I just washed my face and went to the other end of the coach telling the lady I will return buying some chips packet. I got a chips packet from a vendor near the door and searched for the suspicious looking man, but was unable to find him. I walked back to my seat mulling over if any untoward incident occurred my family won’t be able to find me, all there would be me in ashes. Man!! I don’t want to die so early, I have been preparing for my final exam coming month all the year that would go in vain. Yes, I sacrificed most of tours, parties and comforts for this exam and it does matter anymore if I am blown up right? I am just in my early twenties I have got so much to do with my life. Sheesh! What about so many people in the coach. Shall I pull the safety chain, intimate the police, get all passengers out before it’s too late and be a savior? or make fool out of myself. Even the ticket collector hadn’t come to check tickets; there was a good chance that anybody could sneak in with explosives with meager security and board a train, leaving them there without getting noticed in the crowd. A shudder passed through my body. In such an insecure world I am living, holding my life at stake at the every step of my life.

 I was still in my thoughts oblivious to the surroundings then suddenly I noticed the man back on to his seat but this time he was speaking to the gentleman sitting in front of me. I let a big sigh of relief and walked swiftly to my seat. I could hear everyone laughing loudly and eating cucumber with salt-pepper.  I found out that the elderly lady had asked the man to get her some cucumber and he had to go all the way from one coach to another coach, as he missed the vendor, to buy cucumber. Insane!!  Me or the man? I wonder as I stuff handful chips into my mouth!! I agree one shouldn’t judge anybody on their appearances but the thoughts are confounded by what we hear, read and the information we get from the media. In spite of all the odds and uncertainties life of a common man goes on. It’s the blind trust and belief that keeps us going. Finally I got to Bangalore safely and there were no bad news the coming day in the media. Still I felt like I had escaped from the hands of death.

Check the article on Bangalore Mirror blogs 🙂 http://bangaloremirror.com/index.aspx?page=others&do=/blogs/default.aspx