from the nook and corner of my mind...

What if someday you realize that u have been living a lie? That something which you believed in the most, something that you could swear by without an iota of doubt turns out to be a mirage. You reach out to embrace your faith, and you realize it is no longer there, it never was in the first place. It was a cruel delusion crafted by your fate. What if, by some strange mechanism, you are made to look at your life from a third person’s point of view, and you get to realize the disastrous decisions you have taken, the wrong people you have trusted, the happiness that you have evaded and the sorrows that you have willingly invited with your arms wide open. And quite frustratingly, you can do nothing to change your course of actions, only you see yourself walking towards an impending doom.

“You think a lot”… “God! Can you give your mind some rest”… “Hell, why do you have to get so hyper and worry uselessly”…Sigh! Being me is not so easy. I get to hear all of this so regularly. That is coz, I feel so pathetically messed up in the head sometimes. There are thoughts, so many of them, cramped up in every nook and corner of my mind that I feel lost. Then again, there usually is one thought that is the real trouble factor and I keep pushing it away as far as possible, thereby clouding my mind with unnecessary thoughts. And that is why, writing is of such immense help to me. I know however much I may obsess about something in my blog, there really isn’t anybody out there to say- “sreyashi…enough!!”

When you step into someone else’s shoes, do something that already been done by something before, being compared to your forerunner is the most obvious thing that happens. And I realized this some time back. I have had this realization some times before, but I guess those events did not hit me hard enough to write a blog. It is a scary feeling when you know that every action of yours has a precedent. You never really tire yourself thinking, if you have been able to reach the benchmark that inevitably exists in the minds of those around you. I donot think people mean to judge you, but comparisons happen so automatically that you know that you cannot escape them. And when u fail at something, it hurts you much much more than it should, coz there’s a lil voice in your mind that says- ‘may be, you should not be where you are..this isn’t your place’..

chingari koi bhadke....

It is 7 in the evening and there is a heavy downpour. Out of nowhere the clouds gathered in the sky and a fierce wind started blowing. And then within minutes, the sky hurled the rains down.
I was studying and also listening to songs…some of my favourites- chingari koi bhadke, hazaar rahein mudke dekha. Suddenly, I had this urge to write. Rains have a weird effect on my mood, sometimes they make me really happy and the other times very very sad.
And right now I am feeling sad. Dunno why but when it started raining, an image flashed through my mind...a group of street children huddled close to each other, under a makeshift roof, trying to protect themselves from the rains. The wind giving them goose-bumps, and their eyes tightly shut, trying to keep away the water from entering them.
Maybe because, it was the photograph I saw in the newspaper today. ‘Childhood lost in grime’ was the caption. It showed a young boy, clearing sediment from an underground drain near some place in Sealdah. I felt deeply moved. There was an intense desire to do something for that boy. And for the several others who are out there, lost in the dirt and poverty of the world.
And I also thought about the lil boy I saw in the ward. I did not ask him his age or his name. He was suffering from ‘tetralogy of fallot’. He was lying limp, unable to open his eyes, speak, look around. His desolate mum was siting next to him.

The other day I was having this discussion with a friend, and I was telling him that I have double-faced motherly instincts in me. I donot want a baby of my own. I donot want to shoulder the responsibility of my own child, feel tied down to my life. On the other hand, I would really really love to dedicate my life to working for street children, children in the orphanages. May be even raise the children of ppl working under me, say my maid, my driver.
May be all this was there in my subconscious mind. The rains brought them to the surface.

P.S I LOVE YOU!

I am feeling disorientated yet again. There is an undercurrent of unhappiness and restlessness within me that is driving me crazy, and invariably I am directing these emotions against two people - P n S (names withheld !) who have been two of the most special friends I have had in college.
With S, this sort of a behavior is completely unjustified on my part. Simply because, she doesn’t deserve it one bit. I have always terribly low on self confidence, and she is someone, (apart from P n Mimi) who have helped me fight against this big obstacle I face in all spheres of my life. Her unquestioning belief in my abilities and trust has always been an inspiration for me in my worst moods. Sometimes, she is the mirror in whom I can see myself, sometimes she is someone I admire and aspire to be like. She makes me feel buoyed up in life with her exuberance, but these days I respond to her coldly, coz I feel she makes me feel incapable as a student. There cannot be a more flawed attitude. Yes, I know that she is a far better student than I am. There’s a lot to learn from her, and I have. But the desperation and helplessness that I am experiencing in this academic year is turning me into one hell of a petty person.
P, my life and soul…and the thing is I can love him as much as I can be antagonized by him. And he keeps winning me over, by gestures that overwhelm me. And then I sometimes wish we weren’t in this kind of a relationship that we are in now. Coz it hurts. It is a lot easier to accept people the way they are when u expect less from them, when your relationship maintains the distance that is required to keep it fresh and healthy. But unfortunately we are together in a way that allows us to do neither of the above. And that is how trouble erupts in paradise. And the fact is that my foul mood these days isn’t making matters better. Fear is what I feel and he doesn’t. Zeal to live for today is his forte which isn’t mine. Things that matter to me do not matter the same way to him. What ‘being uncomplicated’ means to him does not mean the same to me. I seek solace in solitude these days and that just does not feel right.
Yeh waqt guzar jayega. I hope it does. Coz I want to feel the same love, same harmony that I used to feel earlier in these two relationships.
Peace, that is what I am searching for the most. I want the perpetual turmoil and pessimism in within me to end…

my lil friends...

This blog is dedicated to my little friends whom I’ve met during my pediatrics ward roster. Taufiq, Barun, and that another girl whose name I’ve forgotten. I think about them, those unassuming kids, their innocent, delightful smiles, and the way they brave all the adversities that their lives, even during their short stay in this world, have bestowed upon them. I will remember how baby taufiq kept tugging at our stethoscopes, there were at least 6-7 of them placed on his chest. I will never forget how he recognized me the next day as well, and put his arms out, wide open, asking me to pick him up. I will remember dear lil barun, who took my pen and wrote his name on his hand and smiled each time we were doing the vocal fremitus test on him. Then that lil girl, whose name I have forgotten, she asked for a chocolate and gave me a big smile when I got her one the next day. These lil kids smile even when they really have no reason to be happy about. Congenital heart disease, tuberculosis, acute leukemia….to name a few miserable diseases they suffer from. Maybe, ignorance truly is bliss in their case. When I look at them, I feel happy and sad at the same time, and I say an earnest prayer for all of them, asking god to look after them, such that the smiles on their faces are preserved for ever.

just jotting down...

I stood in my balcony for a few minutes just a while back. It is 11:45 at night. Outside, it was dark and very peaceful. The roads were reflecting the orange-ish light of the streetlamps, and the silhouettes of the trees on the roads in the dimly lit parts made for a very poetic atmosphere. Peace and calm was what I was searching for. And I wish I could stand outside forever. Sometimes I so resent the company of people around me. People, gadgets, loud noises, cluttered up rooms…I feel claustrophobic. I long for solitude and a soothing music in the background. Today is one such day.

I despise the way she can be so demeaning at times. I hate her prim n proper ways. I hate the way she is so sure of herself, so sure that whatever she does is good. I hate her nagging, her attitude of a control-freak..i should not be saying all this. N that is what I hate about myself..

A lovely rabindrasangeet is playing on my laptop. It soothes my distraught nerves..

O.P Ghai’s paediactrics is lying open in front of me. I haven’t studied much since the morning. The to-do stuff keeps piling up and I can never reach my target. I don’t feel like studying now. I have a ward-ending after 4 days. And I’ll effectively get half an evening to study for it next week coz of previously decided engagements that I’ll have to fulfill in the coming days.

I lost my temper at my sis. I apologized to her later on. I love her a lot. But I am bad to her. I hide a lot many things from her. She talks to me a lot. She wants me to do the same, yet I don’t. I wish I could write to her.

A long pending blog..

The miseries of old age affect me a lot. It is not that old age is synonymous with gloom, but it is undeniably very commonplace to find old people burdened by darkness on all sides.
A gradual deterioration of life is what all 60+ people have to face- death of their spouse, infliction by some crippling disease, staying alone away from their family, sour relations with their children and an abysmal generation gap between their grandchildren, all this and more in any order by combination and permutation.
The end result is that most of them, being relegated to the darkest corners of the house and the lives of their immediate family members, eagerly wait for their impending death. Some who have it lucky set off for the heavenly abode without having to live through the pathetic state of extreme debilitation, while others remain bed-ridden- their bodies shriveling up, cheeks shrinking and their eyesockets getting hollower, and mental faculties gradually degenerating.
All this is a compilation of what I have observed in my family as well as amongst my relatives.
I wonder why the end of the journey has to be such a bumpy and rough ride. May be it is like what I have heard most elderly people say- shaara jeeboner paaper phol- the fruit of all the bad deeds during ones lifetime and this I often believe is true.

There is a lot that one has to take in his/her stride when one grows old, there’s a lot that one has to learn to let go. Often it is the inability or unwillingness to do this, that makes growing old such a painful process for some people. And well, the faults of their kin just cannot be ignored. I donot want to get into the rhetorics here. It is not that I feel scared of my old age because honestly, I find it difficult to imagine myself as an old woman- there’s still a long way to go. What draws me to old people is their loneliness, their helplessness which unfailingly become their companions in the last leg of their lives.

What made me write this blog?
My sick grandma called me to her room today and put 200 rs in my hand and said ‘I couldnot give anything to you on your birthday.’ She was seriously ill due to a herpes infection on my birthday. Although she had been in the hospital on that day, she had not forgotten to wish me. 4 months had passed since my birthday and she had not yet recovered completely.
‘Let me show you some photographs’, she said. She brought out an envelope from under her pillow. It contained around 9- 10 old photographs of different family members. I was there too, in two of those photographs, one when I was in class 4th and the other when I was in class 9th. Tears welled up in my eyes., not because of the photographs, but because of this sudden picture I formed of my grandma in my head. I saw my grandma, too sick to get up from the bed and walk around, and who is not able to sleep properly due to pain at night, looking through those photos in her lonely moments, reminiscing all those years that had gone by, remembering all those people she had known, thinking of all changed times and ties- the weight of innumerable memories gathered over 85 long years suddenly seemed inhumanly wearisome to me.

thoughts of a confused soul..

I am trying to arrange my thoughts here. I have been feeling very confused about my life for the past few months. This state has had an insidious onset with gradually progressing severity, with the complication of chronic depression setting in, and yes I forgot to mention radiation..well it is radiating into other relationships which are getting adversely affected.
The salient features or the doubts that have arisen are:

a. Am I in the right profession?
Now when I ask this question to myself, my first thought is, to simplify matters- like what can be defined as a ‘right profession’. Now I confess, the following thing might seem to be an infringement of copyright of a certain mr. ranchoddass chanchar- the right profession is when you are actually doing something that u enjoy doing, and that something should also provide you with a livelihood.

b. Now comes the next question- what am I good at, that can also be my profession?
Now some people are born talented, like they have a talent that sticks out a mile, and they don’t have a difficulty making a choice..like Mr. Shankar Mahadeven who quit engineering to be a singer and a composer. Then there are some people who have this amazing grooming that nurtures their talent to the point of that becoming their profession, like Ms. Shreya Ghoshal, who used to live in some godforsaken land and who used to hence travel many kilometers to train in singing..and who now has no doubt abt the fact that she is doing what she is destined to do.
Why am I just quoting the examples of singers? I dunno, but that bears no significance here. Now I belong to the third category of people who donot have any horridly blatant talent, but who aren’t duds at the same time. I can write, can take good photographs, am good at ‘managing’ or ‘organizing’ stuff, I can sing, and may be do a couple of other things as well. The point here is I am not extraordinarily talented in any one of the above mentioned things, such that I can say with conviction – ‘all right, this is what I want to do in life’..
I also understand this,that not all hobbies can or rather, should be turned into a profession.
Having said all of this, my question remains unanswered. I don’t know if I m good enough at doing something that can be my profession.

While I am still at this question, I’d like to make a couple of points.
1. I am sort of good at handling emotions, trying to figure out what is going on in someone’s mind. I have noticed that I keenly observe emotions, mind games, thoughts more minutely than anything else..i might miss a big hoarding on the road. So at one point of my medical sojourn, I had thought (I am not sure if I should be using present or past tense here), that I should think of psychiatry as my profession.
2. I like the ‘organizing’ aspect a lot. I like making plans and implementing them. I like bringing about changes. I liked working for the college fest; I like the ‘behind-the-stage’ challenges and excitement. I had hence thought of shifting to medical administration.

c. The next question is- why am I so dissatisfied with studying medicine?
Now there can be two reasons- one, I am not meant to be here.
Two, may be I am making a big deal of the study pressure. Maybe I am scared, more than what is required. I look at the brilliant students around me and assume I am not going to ever make it, or be a good doctor.
The fact is I am being promoted every year with okay grades, and there are many students who are of my league and perhaps I may not be the number one doc, but I will treat my patients well, and I will have a decent life. The problem is, I fail to see this logic most of the times and more importantly I tend to treat this logic as rubbish whenever I am scared or depressed.
During such weak moments, I tend to emphasise more on reason no.one- I am not doing what I am supposed to be doing. May be I should have tried out my luck somewhere else. May be I should have given documentary film making a try.

d. now this question is nothing but rephrasing question. b, am I really doing what I should be doing? Will I make it as a doc? Am I making a big deal out of this?

This question still remains unanswered. Maybe in the course of life, I’ll find out. If I am lucky, I’ll be a doc 10 years down the line. If I am not, may be I’ll be driven to the point where I’ll have to quit this profession, and try out something else.