Why

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Why hate, when you can love
Why frown when you can smile
For the little lives we live
Let's make it happy for a while

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April May

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I don’t even remember when was the last time I d written a post. I do remember prompting my ex-interns (who’ll always be my interns) into writing a post for me some time back.  As I sit under the mango tree with my green tea (with the lemon drops) I collect myself on how to begin. Apriling clinicking I rotated in clinics in April. The month of my birthday. April fool. I grow an year older as the clinics proceed. Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays are clinic days. Tuesdays and Fridays are days of almost nothingness. The nurses like me there (or so I think). "Daikh bilkul hamaray jaisee hay , har waqt khatee rahtee hay!", one of them beams. Then the patients who are there for their initial visit, it was difficult yet funny explaining that I am not Dr Nehal. The stalk of files to see is amazing. Its only do able thanks to the sanity that the staff maintains.       Floor returns One labour day later I am back on floors. With a mixed old new team, Khalid (jo ma...
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Its holiday. Finally. For a total of sixteen days. Two days gone.  Third underway.  Lucky morning I wake up relatively early for a holiday. I enjoy morinngs. After making nashta and fixing lunch for Baba I with a cup of tea, settle in front of the computer. I try finding my unfinished synopsis file. It isnt there. Its evaporated, I finally bring myself to belief. I ask Arif (my brother) for technical help. He has none. He comes up with emotional one. "Everything has a silver lining!", he tells me. "I 'll make a better synopsis this time around then", I console myself. "No but a loss is a loss", Arif just has to continue. I type 'gaana.com' and listen to a new song, 'Sanwar loooooooon, sanwar looooooooon'. It sounds beautiful.  Of hot afternoons I tell Ami that I wont be makin lunches, only dinners. Its twelve thirty noon, and I still see no signs of lunch. I break my own rule. Cook. Then these hot afternoons are for sl...
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Would be thinking of you on Sunday

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'I d be thinking of you on Sunday', says the old lady with the most kind eyes and beautiful face. She has a hairstyle like Diana and carries it so well. A few weeks back I'd examined her and she knew that I had an exam coming up. She was so yellow then (obstructive jaundice ) and now was told that she had a pancreatic growth. She had seemed to digest the news pretty bravely and was looking forward to be discharged home today.  I told her today that exam was on Sunday and that everybody else had already given theirs. 'I know you’d pass', she reassured. I hope I do. Its strange that my exam is on twentieth, about a week after the last date. I hope they are conducting one on the day, at least the mail said so. 'I should sue the college if I there isn't one, right', I explain to myself while talking to this colleague from Sri Lanka. 'Yes, you should tell them that I’ve gone through much tension and trauma while preparing and can't imagine going thr...
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