The Mirror Does Not Lie

Meeting old friends

2010-11-03T01:00:00.000-07:00

The past few days have seen me arranging and then meeting an old friend from the medical college. The good doctor is an orthopedic surgeon who is settled with his family in the U.S. of A. He contacted me and a mutual friend the last time he came to India earlier this year, and this was his second visit in the same calendar year.

The experiences we shared about the past, and the bonhomie we shared in the present set me thinking about how invaluable old friendships can be. Although we always had mutual respect for each other, the friend I am talking about wasn't all that close to me during our medical college years. For example, neither of us had visited each others' homes, or met each others' parents. I did not think of inviting him when I got married, and I suspect he never thought to inform me when he left India to study and make a life for himself abroad.

However, now, after a gap of over 25 years, he sought me out on both the occasions, and wanted us to meet over dinner and have a nice time. Naturally, I was pleasantly surprised for I had, during the college years, not considered myself as an equal to him - either financially or in any other social sense. He put it down to a need to interact with his "partners", and I was moved to appreciate his point of view.

Our third friend and I have been in touch off and on, but for the last several years, both of us have been involved so deeply in our own lives that we have not met each other physically. Just a few phone conversations, and that's it. Thus, our America-settled friend has become a sort of catalyst and has brought the two of us together. Indeed, the situation has been a win-win one for all of us.

Meeting friends does something innately wonderful to one's mind and senses. It makes us better humans, as it teaches us to forgive and forget all wounds or misunderstandings of the past and enables us to become great pals, never to forget each other. I guess you could call this happy feeling to be not unlike a feeling of euphoria, a feling of something that turns out successfully in the end.

Hurt talk

2010-09-14T07:47:00.000-07:00

I have always worried that someone listening to me or conversing with me will get hurt inadvertently. The reason for this is my unusually acerbic tongue that cannot resist taking a jab at someone's weakness or problem. I always seem to forget that when you point a finger at someone else, four of your own other fingers are pointing back at you. However, this post is not about knowingly taking a jab at someone; it is about not being sensitive about others while making normal conversation. The other day, for example, when I pointed out to someone his obvious faux pas, he merely smiled and let it go. But, in reality, he did not. He commented about this to my daughter when they were away from me, and my daughter told me about this later on. In fact, she, too, is a bit like me, and often talks acidly to her acquaintances. Hence, she understood the import of what had happened in a flash, and related the thing to me. I felt very bad, but, as they say, words shot off the mouth are like arrows that are released from a tight-strung bow; once they are gone, they will hit the target they are meant to, and the damage is near-permanent, for even if you apologise, the hurt will remain, and there is a real chance that it will sour relations for ever.

Visitors at home, and spends to make them comfortable

2010-04-21T07:04:00.000-07:00

While it is tempting to talk about the mandatory spending on food that occurs when one has visitors at home, I am going to talk about other forms of expenses that the host(s) must incur to make the stay of visitors to their home more comfortable. This includes, for example, expenses on carrying out repairs to the home: in my case, in anticipation of a visitor's arrival in March, we had to call the plumber to fix the toilet, the painter to paint selected portions of the home which had seen water seepage and disrepair, the electrician to start off those switches/appliances that weren't working perfectly, the carpenter to fix loose handles and doors of the various storage cupboards and almirahs, and the mason to fix loose tiles and marble platforms.

In addition, we had to purchase a new 4-burner stove in place of the old one that had worn out a bit, get all the air-conditioners serviced (we have three of these), get the pest control guys in to clear out the cockroaches, and buy extra provisions to fill the larder.

Now, imagine what would be the fate of a not so well-off host. How could they possibly meet all such expenses? And, if they did not carry out these "urgent" repairs, what would the guest think about them? More important, what would the host think about what the guest would think about their hospitality?

Such questions! This is no doubt a subject matter for debate. The overall discussion must also take into account what effect the extra expenses would have on the monthly budget of a family that depends on a single member's tight salary. Any comments?

In the coming days, we are expecting five guests - or six - to stay for about 5-6 days. I think we have already spent over 3000 rupees getting our home ready to receive them.

Belief in the basic tenet of "Work is Worship".

2009-10-08T01:09:00.000-07:00

I have often heard many people say this, and to my mind, at least, it makes sense in an odd sort of way. How often have people missed their visit to a temple/mosque/dargah/church because they were busy at work? I think that while some people have unshakable faith in God/Allah/Ishwar, and will stop their work and first go and pray, the vast majority will willy-nilly skip the prayer, and either perform it later, or simply send up a prayer to be forgiven.

In Islam, prayer in the form of Salaat or Namaaz is mandatory, and as a Bohra, I am expected to pray three times a day. The timings of namaaz are strict, and follow the motions of the heavenly bodies, viz. the sun and the moon. During the afternoon prayers, and in the summer, during the evening prayers too, I am at my clinic and seeing patients. Even if I am not seeing patients, I find it very inconvenient to go for ablution and then the namaaz, as the clinic premises are too small for all this. Hence, most of the days, I skip the prayers.

Now, the crux is this: if I believe in the captioned tenet, then I am not doing anything wrong if I am busy @ work. Because, work is worship, right? And yet, unforgiving Islam will not accept this excuse and urge me to pray - either at the right time, or at least later on, when I am back home.

I am in a quandary. Should I accept the tenet, or embrace Islam unequivocally?

Overcoming fear of failing as a doctor

2009-08-27T08:52:00.000-07:00

I have been practising as a pediatrician for over 22 years now, but whenever I come across a very sick child with complications and so on, I am afraid that I am going to go wrong somewhere and miss either the diagnosis or the management and lose the child for ever. I know that my fear is not irrational because every doctor, during his/her professional life, makes some errors of judgment, not all of which are going to kill his/her patient(s). This is because medicine is a very complicated science, and in some respects, it is not even a science, but an art that one learns throughout life. It is not even just an art, but also an act of faith: faith in one's own self as a doctor, faith in the abiding sea of knowledge that a doctor draws upon, faith in experience being a bigger teacher than books, and ultimately, faith in the Almighty: the most agnostic doctor will look to the skies for divine help when his patient fails to improve under his treatment.

I thought about all this for the last six days as I struggled (and am still struggling) to save the life of a newborn who is under my care. While there is a secular trend towards improvement, the child keeps having episodes of worsening which leads me to believe that, through her, the Almighty is testing my faith. I am happy to report that the baby is now showing improvement.

Such is life, and such is the tension in the mind of a clinician.

Just over a month since he died

2009-01-11T09:27:00.001-08:00

Kindly read this blog entry before reading further: Click here

Okay, so it is over a month since he died. I had gone to their place today, to pay my respects to his family (not his wife, though, since she is in "iddat", during which time only her close blood relations only may see her - a period that is about 4 1/2 months long). There was also a meal in the honour of the departed.

What I missed today, within just 30-35 days of his passing, was the intense gloom that prevailed over the entire household a few days after he had passed away. Today, I could actually see his daughters smiling bravely and trying hard to carry on with their lives without him. His elder daughter, who had her first child, a daughter again, just 7 days before the doctor passed away, moved energetically around the house, looking after the needs of the guests, not for a moment giving away the intense heart-ache and sense of loss she must be experiencing even today.

The same was the case with the deceased's younger daughter, who, too, smiled at me and spoke to me without any external give-away of the intense sadness that she had to be feeling inside her own mind.

There were other cousins too, and the deceased's aunties, uncles, and so on. For most of us, you could say that life has returned to normal, and Dr. Altaf now continues to live benignly inside our minds and hearts. The pain and gloom have gone away, and left behind only symbols of a human's passing from the planet.

This post was created by me only to record the above events and emotions without sounding judgmental about any of the people mentioned in the post. I just thought how fickle and self-centered our minds are. We put unsavoury events of our life quickly behind closed doors, and so quickly too! Just so that we can put unpleasanr memories aside and get back to our normal lives.

Awaiting comments. The wheel of life keeps turning. People die, others are born, and I observe what is happening around me.

Dealing with sub-standard employees

2008-12-16T06:51:00.001-08:00

This may seem like something rude to say about people who work for you, but at times, one is faced with the bitter fact that the person who is working for you and with you is not altogether competent/energetic/honest/hard-working/diligent or whatever. Now, I run a consulting practice and I have just one employee who sits outside my cabin and - takes calls, gives appointments, takes out print-outs of my prescriptions, coordinates the incoming/outgoing patients, collects my fees and so on. He/she is, effectively, more than one person rolled into one: receptionist, telephone operator, water server, etc. etc. etc.

I should be more accomodating since I am taking the work of four or five people from one person. Right? So why is it that I am saying so many negative things about this soul? Mind you, this is a general rant, and does not refer to any specific person or persons who have, at any time, worked with me or under me.

Well, the sorry fact is that some of the people who have worked with me have really, really been horrid. Either they are plain stupid (in which case, I should be called the bigger fool for having employed them!), but some of the others are wily, lazy, pre-occupied with their own things or simply, so truant that I am paralysed without their presence. On the other hand, even when they are around, they are so incompetent or adverse to improving that they end up giving me grief and stress.

How does one deal with this kind of mess? I cannot well throw them out for I need them too, to carry on with the mechanical work that forms a lot of the work that they do. I also consider the fact that I am not paying them top rupee, since most of them are students who come to work for me in their spare time, and a few are really needy people with families who it would be heartless to throw out of job. Thus, I continue to tolerate them till I can, or till they themselves realise their fault and ask to be released from the job.

Feelings of Anger at one's "impotence"

2008-12-14T21:32:00.000-08:00

Lest you think I have problems with "that" kind of impotence, well ... no. I was referring to the feeling of anger that one gets when one feels unable to do anything for people or for one's own self after incidents like huge natural catastrophes, grave personal disasters or dangerous confrontations, after a lost argument when one knows one was right but just ... less powerful, after attacks of terror in one's city or after attacks on one's personal liberties by the insensitive acts of governments or police.

Have you also felt such impotent rage? Do share your experience(s) with me on the comment form. I have felt this recently, after the attacks by terrorists in the city of my birth and stay - viz. Mumbai. It wasn't just me ...but the vast majority of Mumbai's citizens have gone through/are still going through the same rage at the inability to do anything more than wear black bands, write angry letters to newspapers, mouth off obscenities to the nameless perpetrators, and light thousands of candles. Can all these things bring back the things Mumbai lost in the 11/26 attacks at various locations across south Mumbai? I don't think so.

I think what is needed is concerted action by the government, not just resignations by ministers of the cabinet at the centre or the state; joining hands for rehabilitation, not just to sing songs or light candles. Those things are not totally useless, and I am not saying that. However, they have token value. Imagine the difference between - saying "I will pray that your fracture heals" and - actually taking the poor fracture victim to the hospital and paying for his complete treatment. That is the difference I am talking about.

The Face of Terror

2008-12-12T07:25:00.000-08:00

Starting on the eve of the 26th of November 2008, Mumbai city came face-to-face with stark terror: a group of well-organised terrorists landed at Sassoon Docks and proceeded to different places from where they masterminded attacks that left hundreds dead and many more injured; what I want to say about the actual attacks is already on my other blog in the form of three entries that are here, here and here.

In this entry, I am about to share with you the metaphysical dimension of the attacks: we all saw, over the days that the attacks continued, the aggressive attitude of the terrorists and in contrast, the fear and panic on the faces of the citizens of Mumbai, many of them dying unnecessarily in the random shooting of the terrorists. At the C.S.T. railway station, Ajmal Amir Kasab and his accomplice shot people waiting for their trains so cruelly and randomly that the victims never saw it coming. Here is a photo of the surviving terrorist Kasab. As you can see, he is a fairly handsome young man of about 22-23 years' age. Hailing from Faridkot district of Pakistan, he was one of the ten young men who devastated some of the most cherished buildings of south Mumbai. They - i.e. the terrorists - were clinical and brutal in their demeanour and in their action. Gone was even a shred of conscience as they set about killing people mercilessly - unaware that by killing even one person, they were changing or, dare I say, killing humanity as we understand it. Equipped with AK-47 machine guns, grenades, grenade and bomb launchers, satellite phones, and what not, these ten killers descended upon unsuspecting travellers on the railway station, watchmen, patients and doctors at a nearby public hospital (the Cama and Albless Hospitals), pedestrians, adults, men, women and children on the roads near Cafe Leopold and the Metro Adlabs cinema, guests, staff and security men at the Taj Mahal Palce and Tower Hotel, the Trident Hotel and the Oberoi Hotel, and finally, the residents and others at Nariman House where 6 innocent Jews were killed in cold blood.

In addition to the hundreds of Indians who died, some while eating, others while just going about their way towards home, several tourists from many different countries of the world also died within the hotels that they were staying at or visiting.

Staff of all the hotels died, some entire families, such as that of the General Manager at the Taj Palace - except that the father survived. At the C.S.T. railway station, entire families were killed in the gunfire, which, although it seemed random, was actually precise and targeted to cause the maximum amount of panic and psychological damage.

Through it all, most Mumbaikars stayed away from the roads, for over 2-3 days, watching the "drama" unfold over television, as the armed forces and the NSG began their rescue operations. They would finally emerge victorious after nearly 2 1/2 days, but during those 60 hours, ordinary Mumbaikars lived and died a thousand times: stories of carnage intermingled with tales of heroism and supreme sacrifice as several distinguished city policemen and some NSG guards fell to the bullets of the terrorists. In addition, several less well-known policemen also died. And we, the ordinary citizens, watched wide-eyed, our hearts in our throats, tears in our eyes, and an anger that gradually welled up inside us as we prayed that the aggressors got their comeuppance and were killed.

A terrifying week indeed. Heads rolled in the government - both at the state level and at the center, as chief ministers, home ministers and bureaucrats resigned. Homage was paid to the heroes of the nation and they all received state burials. And we, the common citizens, watched it all from home on the various news channels.

After three to four days, people gradually started going back to work, still depressed, dizzy, worried for their safety, panicking at the slightest rumour, and above all, angry at the inefficiency of the government, the intelligence department, the bureaucracy, the politicians and the armed constabulary.

But that is another story, for some other day.

Something nice about me: a poem by me

2008-11-03T00:39:00.000-08:00

BETTER OR WORSE, THIS IS ME ALL RIGHT!

One fine day I sat down to think -
And a hard day of thought that was;
I went back to my past, and reflected,
Of the time gone by, I suppose.

I grew up restless and eager
To do things never done before,
As time went by, however,
I grew contented to the core.

I read, wrote and studied,
Telling few lies and seldom swearing,
Learning by rote, teaching only some,
Hardly did anything daring.

I tried to emulate heroes,
And jived, danced, sang and ran,
Walked, talked, did things crazy -
As with dad, spoke man to man.

Now, I am older and perhaps wiser,
Living on my own terms, happy but sere,
I hug all my enemies,
And shun all I held dear.

It is as if the wheel of my life,
Has turned a circle tight,
For better or for worse,
This is me, all right .

Friendship

2008-10-13T08:13:00.000-07:00

In my 48 years, 7 months and 10 days on this planet, I think I must have met, on a rough estimate, at least 200,000 people, right? So how is it that one strikes the right chord of friendship with so few? I guess I can count off the names of my close friends on the fingers of my hands! I know thousands of people right now, in real time, and have a passing acquaintance of another 8-10 thousand, but when I sit back and think about how many bridges remain to be crossed before I can say that person X is no longer a known moiety, no longer a passing acquaintance, no longer a good friend, but a close friend ...and I have to conclude that seldom, if ever, will all those bridges be crossed and a close friend added to my list.

What, then, are the ingredients that go towards fostering a close friendship? Ask a hundred people, and you will likely get a hundred answers. To think off the top of my mind, I can think of the following:
-proximity
-attitudinal match
-trust
-ability and opportunity to interact
-comfort in each others' presence
-mutual acceptance of pluses and minuses of each other
-tolerance of each others' bad or nasty habits/behaviour
-enjoying each others' conversations
-keeping each others' secrets
-lending shoulders to cry upon

I guess the list is endless, as you can see!

Aside of the physical world's friendships, the internet has added a fourth dimension to the discussion: we make friends so freely over the net, and what do we have to judge the other person by, except for the way they write/chat/interact? Nothing. Pictures and photos need not be genuine. Nor blogs, nor profiles, nor locations, or even sex. Thus, our friendships on the net hang by a thin, easily breakable thread of belief and faith - in the friend, in our own self and in God - or cyber God if you will.

Having said all this, I can say that once a thread of friendship is formed, maintaining it is even more difficult ... and taking it to the next, higher level ...even more so. We mostly maintain relationships at the same level of comfort, but we never try to "test" our friendships to see if the friend does come in "good" when the need arises. A mere statement that "a friend in need is a friend indeed" is okay for writing a school essay, but do we really put pressure on our so-called friends to see who our "real" friends are?

To do this, we need to sometimes create "crises" and call up our friends and see their level of response/reciprocation. To give you an example: announce to all your friends by email, phone or SMS that your car has stalled at ..... location (the location needs to be *inconvenient* for the friends to reach) and could they help by coming to you and fetching you ... or rendering some other form of help to help you extricate yourself from this situation.

Now, sit back and enjoy. Over 90% of those you call will feign that they are too busy to come and pick you up, or cluck in mock sympathy. Around 5 % will show genuine concern, but will not go beyond, say, giving you the number of the local police station or towing agency or Automobile Association etc.

Only the last 5% will discuss the nitty-gritty of the problem and offer to come and pick you up.

They are, in my opinion, a few notches higher than the remaining 95% whom you contacted.

That does not mean that they are the only true friends you have. Someone from the 95% discussed above still may be your true friend, but how will you know that? Therefore, keep creating "crisis" situations from time to time, till you are sure who your real friends are.

Did I make sense to you? Will you try this method to test your friends? Do write back and let me know!

Feelings on selling something you owned

2008-08-24T07:48:00.000-07:00

Along with the other information relating to the above, you will find, in the post I have made to my general blog, some idea of the gamut of emotions I have encountered while selling off the premises from where I practised pediatrics for over twelve years. Read this for the same!

Creativity stifled: The Price of fast life

2008-07-10T07:49:00.000-07:00

You might find this an irrational thought, but actually, to me at least, it makes a lot of sense: as one progresses through life, the second decade is spent in education (and for me, almost seven years of the third decade as well), the third in getting a foothold in life through the novel experiences of marriage, starting a family, beginning a new business or profession, and travelling to new places in a process of discovery (and also a bit of escapism), the fourth in stabilising one's life and almost half of the fifth in completing the remaining obligations of life such as pending loans, etc. Now, during these nearly 35-40 years, one's creative streak, call it a hobby, call it a pastime, or what have you, takes a back seat.

I recall my childhood and adolescence as if they were yesterday. Although not a gifted child, I was certainly above the average when it came to both, academics and creativity. Perhaps you could call me an under-achiever in sporting activities, but circumstances and the kind of upbringing I received deprived me of opportunities to discover if I had any sporting talent and to hone my skills in that direction.

The result was that I was considered a book-worm by my more adventurous peers; however, being left alone has its advantages too; I took to reading books (not just from my curriculum, but outside it too), drawing, sketching, colouring, making craft items and so on. Another, major hobby that I started cultivating right from childhood was writing. Enid Blyton was one of my major idols, and my first books were an imitation of her style of writing without her finesse or skill. I also wrote essays, poems, a novella, and I experimented even with writing a short novel in Hindi!

During my college years, these activities allowed me to explore English without any hesitation; I took part in handwriting competitions in school, in elocution and drama in school, in debating and elocution in the medical college, and finally, I took to writing as a favourite pastime hobby sometime around the age of 40+.

The revival of creativity has done wonders to me, my aging, my personality, my leadership qualities and capacities and many more things besides. And therein lies the blessings of Allah.

Irregularity

2008-06-30T08:00:00.000-07:00

For the past two months, I have, for one reason or the other, become very irregular when it comes to going to the gym for the daily work-out. Several reasons (or should I say, rationalising) come to mind, and if I sit and dissect each one, almost all will hold no water. Let me list them first, so that you, the reader, will know what I am talking about:

My professional work has increased, making it impossible for me to find the 90-120 minutes needed to do this activity.
My first five months at the gym have produced no weight loss; in fact, I have put on four kg!
A general feeling of laissez-faire
Too many "other" commitments - first, Inas' college admission, then, Hannah's school related running around, and so on and so forth.

I am of the opinion here that I am definitely creating excuses here. Well, a few days here and there may be really busy and my not going to the gym in such cases may be genuine, but I think I am now using that as a blanket excuse to not go. I despise myself for doing this ... this game of trying to deceive myself and not going to where it is absolutely necessary for a person of my age, physique and medical problems to go.

I sincerely hope to break out of this stupid habit and to resume my march towards physical fitness. I joined a web-site called "Spark-people" specifically for this purpose. It is a wonderful site for all those who are fitness conscious. From exercise, to healthy eating, to healthy life-style, to blogging, chatting, public forums, health articles and the ability to set targets and goals etc., it has nearly everything a person would need to achieve his/her goals.

I have been perusing the site regularly for the past few months, but as I noted above, it doesn't seem to motivate me. I am looking for inspiration and advice.

Accepting old age and other related stuff

2008-06-25T06:14:00.000-07:00

For some strange reason, human beings in the last 150-200 years have become vain and finicky in nature. Unable to stop all ills that plague us, especially, the advancement of Father Time, we become boorish, short-tempered, anxious and silly as we cross youth and arrive at Middle age. This is somewhat like what happened to me in the last six years. Till I was 41-42, I never felt the vicissitudes of age; I was agile (well, perhaps not as agile as, say, Roger Federer or Kaka), remembered things very well, looked forward to more work and was considered a capital fellow among my friends and cousins. I cannot say with certainty if girls swooned behind my back after I had passed them by, but you can be reasonably sure that that was *not* the case :-)

At the same time, I knew that I did have some intrepid women who secretly admired me even then. I can't say I can add the name of my better half to that list, but I don't think she *hated* me. In the last six-odd years, I have perceived the actual phenomenon of growing old. My memory does not serve me as well as it did back then; I do not get "readily aroused" on seeing feminine flesh or the icons of beauty; I have an uncharacteristic liking for lying frequently on the bed whenever I am free and around in my home; and by far the worst trait of all: I have become silly - unforgiving, short-tempered, boorish and all those other things I wrote above.

This has, no doubt, led to several uncalled for "scenes" during my normal acts of social activities. I raise my voice in public, and immediately regret having done so, since the "public" looks up to me to learn the meaning of the "good life" ... where the tempers are mild, the manners, impeccable and the mind and the body, relaxed. My wife reprimands me whenever she is there - sometimes by raising her eyebrows in that characteristic style of hers that authors have described as being an act where looks can kill; at other times, she will keep quiet at that time, but haul me over the coals at night when we have said our antiseptic good-byes to our daughters and have retired to the battle-ground of our "bedroom". She will then dissect every nuance of the conversation, discuss each and every word uttered by me and also point out my 118 mistakes in the course of that 3-minute experience.

I dread these post-motems, not because of the sound and thunder but because, invariably, she is always RIGHT.

More some other time.

Coming down strictly on my daughter

2008-06-22T03:37:00.000-07:00

I have always flirted with girls, and sometimes they have been very, very young. However, I have always done this with an innocent frame of mind, just to have some fun. However, the shoe was on the other foot, when I saw my elder daughter flirting with an apparently older man by chat over the net. I did not know what to do as the conversation, or the part of it that I read, was slowly turning puerile. and yet, Inas was enjoying herself tremendously. I urged her to disconnect that chat, but she refused, and she kept refusing repeatedly. Finally, unable to bear her temperament for ever, I stepped in and forcibly closed down the chat, but not before making her type words to the effect that that boy was not to write in such language ever, to her. This done, I switched off the chat application, and made her leave the side of the computer. Later in the afternoon, I logged on to the "My Accounts" page and changed my account password.

Expectations

2008-06-10T08:49:00.000-07:00

Waiting for my elder daughter's exam results was a little of all these: suspense, agony, boredom and also anticipatory excitement. Will she make the cut? Will her results reflect the time, money and effort that her parents and family put in in the previous one and a half years as she studied to make a career in medicine? Will we see her on the merit list of the board (like I was; I stood 14th in the Maharashtra State board examinations of 1977!)? Or will she show us how worthless were her and our efforts and come up with a less than exciting result? In the end, the hours she wasted on the mobile phone and computer, the hours she wasted watching things outside the room's window, the hours she wasted watching movies downloaded on the computer and the hours she wasted thinking all this to be a game - took their toll, and she did, in fact, come up with an above average but a far more ordinary result of under 80%.

To say that I am not disappointed would be a lie; however, being a practical person who has seen failure in his own life on more than one occasion, I took her results in my stride and was, in fact, consoling Nishrin, my wife and Inas' father, to stop beating her breast and screaming abuses at Inas. This isn't the end of life or the end of her career ... is it? Three days have passed since the results were declared, and I admit I am not tense or dejected any more. We are now waiting for her "Medical Entrance exam" results, which should be out in a few days' time.

Net vs. Life: Two personas?

2008-06-05T04:20:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, I, too, succumb to the two personalities thing like millions of others in cyber-space. Well, you know what I am talking about. It is not about "www.secondlife.com" where you can actually be yourself in an avatar of your own choice; nor am I talking about taking a different name and chatting; I am talking about projecting a completely different persona with habits and mannerisms totally alien to your actual self.

Let me give you an example: in real life, I am too fatherly to even think of romancing a mid-teenager; yet, on the net, I flirt with teenagers with panache and a joy that is hard to conjure up in real life. Projecting one's age, sex or location are passe and perhaps meant for teenagers who want to protect their privacy. With older people like me, it is more of keeping one's mental propensities and inclinations private. although this blog is a medium for me to declare public all my private and real weaknesses, I still have many secrets that I probably will NEVER disclose - not even anonymously, let alone in my easily identifiable blogs.

The story so far

2008-06-03T01:41:00.000-07:00

... is not a very heartening one, I admit. I have confessed to at least four or five idiosyncrasies and weaknesses, and I say now that these form only the tip of the iceberg-like psyche that I am trying to open before the readers of this blog. I am driven to write more and more of my weaknesses, and perhaps the time will come when I will be done with listing my weaknesses and proceed to talk about my ... ah ... few strengths ...

As of today, my site has had less than 50 visitors, but they are from three continents already! I do think this to be a healthy trend.

Sarcasm - how I mess up things

2008-06-01T03:38:00.000-07:00

The more I think about this, the more I am convinced that I am a glutton for sarcasm - I heap it upon others in oodles. I must say, however, that I can take it as well as I can give it to others, so, at least in that respect, I am a perfectly "normal" sort of person :-)

I have been a fairly sarcastic person since I touched the teens, my fast-thinking mind able to conjure up cutting remarks at every twist and turn in a conversation. Ironically, this characteristic, at the same time, annoys them, and endears me, to the same people (who know me). Annoys them because they are often at the receiving end of the remarks passed by me; endears me to them because they are quick to spot the wit and to realise that my comments are nothing but a passing breeze that does not wait to see if it caused feathers to ruffle and to then titter at the victim.

I am like that. I make remarks that are often seen by ME as innocent, but by the others (at the receiving end) as mocking, degrading or insulting ... but by the time they start getting annoyed at it, I have often either apologised by gestures or words, or laughed the whole thing away by saying, "Oh, come on, don't look at me like that, man, I was only joking!"

The dear wife fell in love with my wit, and despite some very scathing ironical remarks that I passed at her during those courtship years, she stuck by her decision to lock me in matrimony with her and throw away the key ... in the years to follow, however, with the pressures of life coming up, she has become a little less tolerant of my acidic tongue and often threatens to produce the key and to use it to unlock me from her fetters ... silly me!

My elder daughter has more or less the same qualities that I do, and is often ironical while conversing with friends. I have had to remind her more or less everyday that on her path lie the ruins of my life: I show her how I have often lost friends, dear friends, who have chosen to "drift away" rather than bear the cross of listening to my vitriol poured out whenever I meet them.

This irony-laden tongue has also affected me professionally, with some colleagues choosing not to take me into their circle of influence, of leaving me out of their invite list for a party or a social occasion, of not sending me a patient that they would have otherwise referred to me because of my skills in the professional arena. This is something that has saddened me no end, and in the process, wizened me to approach professional colleagues with respect and less criticism.

Dear reader, how would you feel if you were at the receiving end of sarcasm? And how would you consider the attitude of being ironical at all times? I know, I know, both questions are no-brainers. It is obvious that one should be disgusted with people like me ... and yet, I don't know. I feel that criticism cloaked in gentle sarcasm is the way to go ahead to improve the lot of self or/and others.

What do you think? Do comment.

Coping with feelings of Guilt

2008-05-27T21:40:00.000-07:00

Like any other person on this planet, I, too, am as imperfect or perfect. Perhaps, a little more "imperfect" than others, okay? :-) At the same time, when I am really guilty of something, I am one of the first to accept my guilt and to publicly owe up to it without much fuss. However, there is one area where I do not readily accept my guilt: it has to do with my somewhat imperfect driving and managing to get myself into sticky situations while doing so. I don't have the exact figures on my fingertips, but if the police were to count my instances of "rash" driving and "the ability to hit others' vehicles with mine, even if they be stationary and parked near the sides of the road", I would have had to surrender my driving licence long ago!

Having said that, usually, when I am guilty as hell of doing something wrong, I tend to sulk for hours, then retire to a quiet corner of my home and brood for some time, a packet of potato chips in my hand to see me through the down phase. I have learnt not to allow the brooding to take over my other, worldly, responsibilities. Hence, I always remember what is happening around me and what other tasks are still to be accomplished before the day is done. Feeling guilty is normal, but feeling depressed and shunning life's so many exciting events is not.

How soon would I go and express regrets to the wronged person? If the guilt is clear, I say "sorry" right away; if the guilt becomes clear later on, I make it a point to meet that person or call him up and convey my regrets. If my mistake hasn't been discovered, and the harm it caused was totally insignificant, I have sometimes cheated and not gone and owed up too. Which person hasn't cheated thus? I have felt somewhat more guilty for doing so ... but for just a few days. After that, these things are forgotten and life goes on.

Forgiving someone

2008-05-27T08:12:00.000-07:00

Purely on merits, forgiving is something that occurs innately to some, and not so naturally to others. If you account for difference between the sexes, Mars is more often forgiving than Venus is, but when Venus does forgive, it is an eternal forgiveness filled with sympathy and love for the one who is finally and fully forgiven. With men, often forgiving is easy, but at the root of such a posturing, men often retain the grouse that originally caused the relations to fray. This retaining of the grouse causes them to behave with restraint and continue to harbour ill-feeling towards the one whom they have publicly forgiven.

I have often done this myself. To give you an example, I had a friend who publicly denounced me over 25 years ago over a small misunderstanding. Within days, he had apologised, and I too forgave him his behaviour. We were together in medical college for several more years, and then, after that, drifted away, he migrating to the US of A and I, continuing to practice in India. Whenever I remember him, I smile inwardly, but I also have a tinge of anger when I recall the way he shouted at me and degraded me in front of our peers.

Why do I continue to feel that way even after over two decades? And I always thought that it is women who keep a grudge for ever ...

First comments on this blog

2008-05-26T01:11:00.000-07:00

After plugging this blog on various forums, I have had people commenting on its contents. The first thing that I heard is that the blog is not "serious enough"; once it becomes a serious thing, readers who have identified with me in any way - whether because they read the blog or because they are mentioned in it, may take offense and feel bad and either stop visiting the blog or actually join issue with me. The second thing was that I cannot afford to make it too realistic or my own family may stop talking with me. Else, I have to start an anonymous blog so that I cannot be identified! Now, this sounds tricky to me and I cannot live a lie!

Finally, a friend named Ravi suggested that I merge this blog with my other blog (http://drtahersworld.blogspot.com). I find that not a very workable solution as I do want to separate the introspective blog entries from worldly talk and stuff like that.

I seek some help from all of you who read this blog to tell me what to do.

Do comment/reply/suggest what can be done ...

Calling a spade a spade

2008-05-24T01:15:00.000-07:00

Don't ask me how I do it, but I am always putting my foot in my mouth on account of my overbearing honesty. Time and again, others have warned me to desist from being so forthright, but I have been unable to withstand injustice or tolerate incompetence, stupidity, unprofessionalism, and all such acts of ineptitude. Hence, I often shoot off at the mouth and end up harming my own standing among my near and dear ones, as well as among those with whom I do business.

I know and understand my weakness and there have been several occasions when I have successfully held on to my sanity and have remained quiet; however, on the majority of occasions, I have not been able to hold on and have called a spade a spade.

Let me give you an example of my foolishness: let us say that a patient asks a question which you frankly know is outright stupid. As a doctor, I know that patients ARE prone to asking such questions as they have NO medical knowledge. My correct response should be to maintain my composure and to answer the question in a matter of fact manner. What I do do is that inevitably, I break out into a laugh or guffaw aloud so much that the patient is immediately made to feel inferior.

Their response is to laugh it off with me at that time, but I know that they have been hurt by my casual and inconsiderate response ... and I cannot do anything about it.

Have you, dear reader, faced such a problem with your people? If yes, please share your experience with me.

Lying

2008-05-22T08:36:00.000-07:00

They say that according to the ancient religious customs, a lie was not called a lie if - a) it did not hurt anyone
b) telling it actually made someone happy or be benefited and
c) it did not contravene any of the Natural Laws, which generally tend to follow scientific principles.

Taken this way, and in this spirit, how much nicer would an old person feel if he/she were told that their son/daughter, living far away, was enquiring about them to you when you last met them in ... ah ... Timbuktu? How well would you feel if you took the blame of a broken vase over your head instead of naming your much younger and more mischievous sibling!

Aside of such "beneficial" lies, one is sometimes forced to tell a lie to save one's face or self-respect, and occasionally, to escape a hiding! In such cases, which I classify to be utterly devoid of morals, the teller of the lie is plain guilty. I have been guilty of this throughout my childhood, as my father was the archetypal HITLER. He hit with his bare hands, with ladles and spoons, with a stick or with a utensil ... yes, you got me right, a utensil! To escape his unreasonable tempers and his attempts to make us all bite the dust, we often told lies. Whether it was that "Yes, papa, we have thrown away the garbage at around 1:00 p.m." or "No Daddy, I did not eat the cake in the fridge " ... my brothers and I all did tell lies from time to time, but at an average, at least 2-3 times a day!

Do you agree with my theory that lies need not all be harmful or be punishable with time-outs, banishment or spanking? Do you agree that lies CAN be harmful?

Awaiting your comments, please ...

Afraid of Being Refused

2008-05-21T01:41:00.000-07:00

How often do people, afraid of being told a "No" for a request, step back from making that request? In my case, it is quite often. Whether it is a simple request for a glass of water from my daughter, or a complicated request for professional help, I often deny myself the privilege of making the request and out for the glass of water or that professional help myself.

However, I remember reading somewhere that if you actually ask for something politely, there is a 9 out of 10 chance that the request or wish will actually be granted to you! I tried this in a restaurant once. The soup had a human hair on the edge of the bowl, and there were two choices before me: ask the waiter to replace the soup, or quietly pick up the hair and throw it down below the table. I decided to assert myself, and the soup was promptly replaced with at least three members of the staff visiting my table to apologise. I also received a 20% rebate on my total bill!

On the other hand, there are numerous occasions when I have felt bad that my simple request was not even considered, let alone debated/refused/granted! On such occasions, I feel like landing a tight slap on the opposite party. Of course, an actual slap is out of question, but I do grumble about this and at times, abuse that person silently.

How do you all feel about this? do read and comment about your own experiences when you have to make a request and it may or may not be acceded.

Unexpected Feelings

2008-05-20T07:29:00.000-07:00

At times, when you least expect them, and are unguarded, contrary emotions overwhelm you. This has the impact of a solid punch driven into your stomach! Let me give you an example: consider that you are waiting for a bus to go to work. The expected bus at half past nine does not turn up. A pile of work awaits you at the office, and your boss, although accommodating at most times, is knowingly passing through a bad personal patch in his life, so you don't want to be on his wrong side. If you wait for the next bus, which is due after 45 minutes, you will surely not arrive in the office at ten, which is, give or take ten minutes, your reporting time.

If you decide to cab it, you are going to burn a big hole in your pocket, as the office-home fare is near about one big note of Rs. 100/= (U.S. $1 = approx. Rs. 42/= as of 20th May 2008). You expect to feel worried, a little panicky and perhaps a bit depressed at missing the bus, but suddenly, a quite different kettle of fish grabs you by the collar: you feel exhilarated! Relieved! Lucky!

Now, why should THAT happen? I don't know, but here is my take on this: base emotions sometimes take over your ego and superego and make your cunning, impish and devilish side show through! Thus, you could be happy because you got that genuine excuse to throw at the boss and see his reaction when he realises that he cannot punish you or chide you; you feel relieved because, in any case, the huge bundle of files awaiting your attention could NEVER have been done by the same evening. You feel lucky because here is a reason to actually bunk going to the office at all!

Now, a sane, rational person would be appalled to come face to face with these, quite contrary opinions, right? Not so with me, as I often come up with totally unexpected emotions in life. At times, retrospectively, I despise myself for it. At times, though,I continue to feel unrepentant about those ill-feelings and go ahead with life without missing a heartbeat.

Dear reader, have you ever felt such contrary emotions? Do comment.

Introducing the Self

2008-05-18T23:59:00.000-07:00

Ever seen a child play hide-n-seek? It is so much fun to watch, isn't it? I was a child too, once, but am now, I think, a mature adult with a lot of life gone past, and some still left to surprise ... perhaps with pain and pleasure in equal measure.

Sometimes, I am overwhelmed to realise that I am nearing 50. With half the proverbial life neatly stacked in a pile in my mental pocket, I am still feeling sort of young, like an old dog, wanting to try new tricks. May be I won't learn them fast, but by God, I will, and as I go about doing all those things, I will cast my eye inwards and reflect upon the things that could have gone differently for me.

In the process, I may, sometimes, wax lyrical or quote some heavy quotes. Don't be afraid, dear reader, as none of what I write can harm you, physically or otherwise.

Come then, let us start this journey together ...