Aborted

Oh! Wow.

Is it true,

that, some time from now,

I'll have you?

Google Images

The idea that I had,

was living within me,

It was growing forward,

and reality, soon, it would be.

Within me, you could be felt,

Some unfinished dreams were being recalled,

your presence made the stolid heart melt,

being yours was a thing with which I, now, romanced.

I knew, you want to rush into my embrace

Be called mine & caress me too.

Yes, It is a truth and not a pseudocyesis case.

And in no time it would be happening to me & to you.

Love, care, and a bond had developed

I told you so, and you knew it, right?

With each moment, closer we had moved.

Until that changed it all, that night.

You rushed, you hurried, you planned to meet,

when time should have taken care of it all,

The waters broke & the heart too, feeble had become your beat,

Trying anything couldn't have helped to stop you fall.

Google Images

You were premature, just a fetus,

Incapable of independent existence.

You were not a baby, a live part of us,

Having the grit to put persistence.

Before you matured or ripened,

you were plucked for celebration,

Oh! I wish-

You would have been where you had always stayed,

After all, you were God's own incarnation.

You feel bad, hurt and at loss,

You tag me irresponsible & hate me enough.

Baby, but dying I am too, because,

I lost more than you did-the dreams & the reason to live.

You need to believe it and you know, it ain't a bluff.

Tele says: Respect time, sometimes rushing can only abort.

Just came around this beautiful picture...!! :-)

Baby's First Movements!

The dude, the drunkard and the asshole!

Half-past ten, Casualty Center, Hospital.

It was about time I creased the white apron, rested down the stethoscope, and bid a goodbye to the casualty duty for the day. 6 hours since the duty had commenced, some minor road accident casualties, a few heart patients, and two major emergency cases had been handled. It was my first day at Casualty, and it had been a satisfying day at work.

The Resident Doctor (Does it sound similar to The Resident Evil?? ) were about to change duties for the night. Yeah, the one who was to stay did ask me straight faced, 'So you're doing a night today?' 
Please say a yes. The excitement was barely conceadable.
'No Sir, I would retire for the day in few minutes from now.'
Bursted.
'By the way, you're an intern, right? What's your name?'
'Tele'
'What?'
'Tele as in Television'
'Ohk. Christian?'
'Tele, We have an influx. Come.', the R-2 called. 
R-2, the resident whom I had assisted the whole evening, was a pleasant doctor. Needless to say, the same sequence had taken place few hours before when I had joined duties, but seeing my no-nonsense-only-work attitude he had ceased hitting.

So, here we had: A head injury, A maniac, and A Road-Traffic Accident patient.
Triage.

The Dude!

Head Injury first. A 20 something old labourer, having a 10cm horizontal slit on his forehead, blood splattered over the face, conscious.
Examining him, we were sure he had a frontal fracture, and he would have had injured his brain too.
Suture him before the Referral.


'Stitch?? Doctor, Don't cut my hair.' the patient blurted.
'Dude!'
Well-being was rather secondary, for him, to his good-looks. *grins

The Drunkard !

The maniac was jumping and shouting in the trauma center, moving hitherto. The paramedic had been ready with the history. 
So, he was under acute intoxication with the so-asserted 'poisonous alcohol'. 
The newspapers had been full with reported sale of poisonous alcohol and deaths in the last 2 days. On suspicion of him having consumed it, he had been brought.

No symptoms detected, yet Gastric lavage had to be done.
He was comfortable now.
He-The Drunkard.

The RTA was a minor accident. Two men, one with a bruise, and one with a laceration on the right palm.
Standing in the MOT for stitching up the palm, I overheard a voice.
'Ya bastard, you left me there. Ya think ya saved your ass, do you? I'll open ya up once I get outta...'
'Excuse me, who's had the injury on palm?'
The one conversing stared at me, and entered.

The A**hole!

'Pllllleaaaase. Make it numb.'
He whimpered like a baby.

'What, One more stitch. Nooo.'

Bandaged, he left.
I overheard him, 'Am coming ya f**ker! Ya Asshole!'

Retired for the day!

Tele ;-)

Leaving you an interesting picture ;-) 

Cool Hair Cut! 

Unethical

Balloony!

Decorations were on place, on every nook & corner of the big, brightly-lit hall. Colourful Balloons bubblingly hung from the ceiling, and at one corner you could spot a kid being given a balloon by his tall-father.

She was the bride-to-be. Looking beautiful, innocent, and cute. If there were things in universe standing a testimony to the artistic calibre of God, she sure was listed. It was her day today.

The kid having the balloon had now been circled by many a jealous kids, who eyed the balloon in his hand & his face alterningly. Being in possession of the balloon was no less than being gifted a plucked star from the skyline, and the kid maintained his proud poise staring at the pink heart, the thread to which he held clenched.

Surrounded with her near & dears, she greeted me with a warm hug. I was her relative, to be preciser- A cousin sister, of some 'n'th order.
We talked & gleed, and then she introduced me to him. A warm handshake. Hello. Did he just dive into me?

'Beta, come and take your lunch first' insisted my uncle.
'Yeah, Uncle.'

Taking the platter, I simultaneously interacted with other relatives of mine. Was I being spied by him?

The kids were a jolly clutter. They were laughing and cheering, playing with the heart. The kid had let go the thread, and shared the joy with others.

Amongst the hustle in the party room, his eyes followed me, & my attention was being caught by him.
The photo-session commenced. We all hogged near her. I stood next to him. He turned to look at me, and thinking it would seem odd, or might be caught in the shots, reflexly eyed the cameras instead.
Cheese.
Did something click??

The kids jostled, ran in the hall. They had befriended each other knowing nothing about the other. Carefree, they lived in the moment of the game they were presently playing.

Amidst the dancing, his eyes met mine and he shook away from the transfixation. Was that an interaction?
Repeated instances of such kind happened during the course of the party. There was something intriguing in him, something that kept me bounded. Was that magnetism?
I had never met him earlier, I had till now not conversed with him except the voiced 'Hello', but there was some connection we were fixed with.

Confetti! 

Silver-golden confetti showered on them. It must have felt like being drenched in the first snow-fall of the season. The balloon had bursted. The kids were speckled with the shiny pieces of paper. Giving a last laugh, they searched for their parents and disappeared into their own world.


Knowing, a conversation could not be materialized, or rather was Absolutely UNETHICAL, I left.

But he had to stay.
Afterall, he was the groom-to-be.


Disclaimer: This is Pure Fiction! 

True. Sincere. Just.

Amidst the hue and cry of scams, communal-ism, injustice, and political ill-will; the silent optimism might be missed but not ignored.

Every year the glory of the past that our country beholds brightened me up, made me believe that how-so-ever untidy or faulty the present is, it would transform to shine in the future. 

This time too, I feel the same. Only, the feeling was deliberated, and appeared more like a fantasy world of the Grandma's stories. Period.

Indian Tiranga

The desire to change it for the better still fumes, and so, I do what I can do best.

Do my duties sincerely.

Just think, What if everyone whole-heartedly did what they were meant to do?

True, Sincere, Just - My Future, My Nation.

Unanswered!

‘Tele, you have a post.’ said my Mumma and entering my room, where I lay absorbed networking with friends, kept that envelope, the yellow colored one, on the side table. Without allowing the neck the cumber-some task to turn, I enquired, ‘Who’s the sender?’

Check it for yourself, announcing, she exited.

It’s New Year 2011, and I got a post!

Friends weren’t sending me any gift, I knew. I never gave them any. Admit Cards had all been received. They too have to be printed now-a-days. No correspondence was expected from any University. The Summer Schools and Research Conferences were not worth being on the list of Dad’s expenditure, so I hadn’t applied.

Curious, turning to the bright-yellow envelope perched on the table, stretching the joints gone lazy, It is a Card. A Greeting Card!

In the times of SMS’ and emails, or rather merely Scraps & Tags, there was a greeting for me, from an Uncle.

Initially I hated to see my name mis-spelled, but you can't hate someone for loving you.

Uncle, who had lost his 24-year old son to destined death, many years ago. 6 months ago, when I had been back from Netherlands, and the newspaper had that piece of reporting, he had called me. He wanted to meet me and gift a memento of motivation. He had dropped at my place then. In his mid-fifties, with half-grayed hair & proud-happy eyes with a deeper seated sorrow, he had tried to see his son in me; tried to bask in the glory like a parent; tried to store the exhilaration to pass his fore-coming days.

This New Year he had not forgotten me. I, too, hadn’t. He sent me a card wishing me health & happiness to tame more successes. The heart gave a silent beat of sympathy, I felt blessed to have received their wishes.

24 days after the scheduled 1^st January had come, I hadn’t still called him to Thank, or written to him. Amongst the pile of papers of my internship letters, log-book, and my write-ups, the envelope stroke out. It was distinguishable all this while, but probably it was lying low on the priority list. The love and blessings that are showered onto you unexpectedly from unexpected people, are rather less reciprocated & valued only occasionally.

I sent him a message right now:

Hello Uncle. Hope the Year has had the happy beginning. Wishing you and Aunty health & happiness. Regards & Wishes- Telly.

Tele says: Being un-answered does hurt. Doesn't it?

Alive!

Yeah. This blog is.

And, So am I.

But, not one amongst us. (A junior, a final year medical student, succumbed to the 10-long day traumatic phase of Septicemia)
Feels like the '24th November.2006' misfortune recapped itself. 

Despite the many deaths witnessed, the departure of a known soul, does hurt. Immensely.

Makes one question the laws of God, or flaws. Period.

RIP Chanchal. Above all, Peace to the mourning family.

Life moves on...

And, so should we. 

Have been on p(e)trol ever since. (Jaipur, Banad and Bhadwasia)

Intern duties have been tougher. (more on the transport front)

Reading has been on cards. Photography took the rest of time.

Life's running...and I feel I am with it.

The two-in-one paperback version I read

Sidney Sheldon's been the company.

'Memories of Midnight' was neither a disappointment nor a treat.

'The Naked Face' dissolved all the questions raised at Sidney's art. Dr. Judd Stevens, the psychoanalyst, instilled pride in the medic-that-I-am.

'Wuthering Heights', half-read, gives an insight into the art of writing of the medieval times. Distinct and diverse from the present times.

A small note:

Rushing is not my idea.

Cheating, I don't practice.

And, Spontaneity is what I am brimming with.

Sorry, but I can't be conditioned,

and I fail miserably at the art of manipulation.

Adios!

PS: So hate the transformation of the blog into the mere 'timeline' of the recent instances in my life.

Hoping I get more time for the blog. =D

Insomniac...

BY CHANCE... NOT CHOICE!

9th January.2010
AIPGMEE ! (or rather, not even a single exclamation mark was required, since, it wasn't interesting to me, and I was least bothered about it.)
Three and a half hours!!!! (Yeah, this deserves this number of exclamations)
Having not read even a single subject ever, after the universities exams of the respective professional years, what would one do with this much of time.
Not having practiced the previous years papers, not even the last AIPG/AIIMS ones....I stood no chance of being able to finish off the 300 massive questions that I was about to face.

Still, being adventurous is my passion. So, I did appear. After sleeping for a mere of 3 hours in the night, and facebook-ing the previous day for 12 hrs, I was geared to face the paper/ sleep during it....whichever seemed less tiresome.

Wuhoo...Attempting 270 plus questions (the answers to which I don't even remember...I mean, the ones I marked- Don't remember them even) confidently I gaited out of the center, where my parents were more than elated to see me this way.
Yeah, Parents....they always hope for a miracle.
And, I love their hope.
And, sometimes, I even love shattering them. The way I did it then.

Pretty much knowing the results, my parents are still expecting a selection. Wish they come back to reality.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Have had tough, busy, tiresome days since then.


9th, 10th, 11th, 12th---
* A 3:30 hrs exam, f/b homely tasks f/b a dear cousin's marriage, Band/Baja/Baaraat....Sleep- 3 hours.
* RPG form filling, f/b multiple trips to photostat, college, hostel, f/b No One Killed Jessica, f/b file work...Sleep- 3 hours.
* Wuthering Heights, f/b bank works, f/b trip to a cousin's place f/b dinner at Aunt's place, f/b an awesome discussion with Dad...Sleep- 2 hours.
* College Work (documents and all!! ), f/b train tickets reservation (2 hours I was in a queue), f/b multiple trips around the city (might have covered somewhat around 30kms in a small place like Jdpr), f/b tiring trips to the inner city area...Sleep- 4 hours.

It's been rigorous, tiresome, hectic, irritating and SLEEPLESS. (5 consecutive nights !!)
Tolerance at its lowest. And, I hate it.

God, grant me some sleep.
Please. 

Hi. This is Me.

Hi.

This is me.

Me...

...When kids my age are spending time playing outdoors & watching movies, 

I'm sitting in my room with my books 

as I have to clear this tough exam to enter my career field.

Hi.

This is me.

Me...

...When adolescents my age are having crushes, pimples and dinners outside, 

I'm trying to understand the human systems and their diseases.

Hi.

This is me.

Me...

...When youth my age are dating, smoking 

and boozing with their peers, 

I'm discussing the treatments to human ailments with mine, 

adorning blood stained robes.

Hi.

This is me.

Me...

...When my school friends are outing, roaming 

and discovering the world, having no answerability, 

I'm sitting amongst the sick, poor & ailed, 

all of whom are my responsibilities.

Hi.

This is me.

Me...

...When people my age are spending their salaries

 on the worldly pleasures, 

I'm left with no time to treat myself,

 even with the fortune I'm building.

© Tele_Jane

Hi.

This is me.

Me...

...When fellows my age are heart-broken,

 for their love left them, 

I've already witnessed thousands of innocent souls depart into nothingness.

Hi.

This is me.

Me...

...When buddies my age are married, 

& are treasuring their times with their kids, 

I'm waiting eagerly for spending some quality time with my kids 

& hoping to capture those moments into memories.

Hi.

This is me.

Me...

...When professionals my age are working in the limited time fashion, 

I'm slogging late nights, updating myself with the recent advances, 

so that my knowledge cures others.

Hi.

This is me.

Me...

...When aged my age are retiring, 

and re-living the nostalgic memories of their youth, 

I am left with no energy & ability to create those memories.

Hi.

This is me.

Me...

...A Medic. A Doctor.

'I, who, lived my life for others.

For humanity.'

Clicked from a hoarding in UMCG Hospital, Groningen.
© Tele_Jane

The Last Toast



© Tele_Jane



Raising the toast last,

to all, that happened in the past,

The tumbler's been rested,

and the euphoria which had nested,

in the circuits crazy, & breaths bated;

for times quite long; has evaporated.

The hangover too, has passed away,

Things are clear, all along the way.

Raising the toast last,

to the times we staged a blast,

We loved, cared & rocked,

We fought, cried & hugged.

It was so memorable, beautiful;

It was good but, not wonderful.

The memories've been put down.

Even though you're in the town,

the world seems clearer,

fine, in place, and equally messier.

Raising the toast last,

to the life- impending & vast.

Future beckons me & you,

Step we must into it & give it its due.

Different, let be the path,

After all, different souls we hath.

Neither made-for-each-other,

nor enemies or arch-rivals or haters.

It's the toast last, as our souls

depart, disperse & roll

away into unknown terrains.

Searching for the remains?

No, there's no time & use

to cherish, or rant or rumble or muse.

Today, a new robe our relation wore;

Of friends; Yeah, the love one I tore.

Sorry, but

the tumbler has been rested,

and the euphoria has evaporated.

Still,

There's one thing I am proud to boast,

It was I who took the charge to raise the last toast.

...To raise the last toast.

...Ain't ??

Google Images

They say it is silly to hold on to memories of the one which would not be back....

But, ain't Love another name to Optimism??
Of hoping for the miracles to happen?



They say it is the rule of the universe to search for that substitute which fulfills your needs...

But, ain't Love an emotion and not a need??
An emotion of one's care for another?



They say it is hurting oneself to live in an illusion and repel the reality...

But, ain't Love a reality??
A reality which hurts occasionally but instills happiness usually?



They say, Open your arms to others embrace...

But, won't Love, that I hold now, fall at opening of arms?
The love, trust, faith that I keep held close to me?



They say, Take a step ahead, and enter the dreams of another...

But, won't that crush the mud-house of Love, which was built one season?
The mud-house, the dreams of which still brings the smile?

They say, Let it Go, it was not meant for you...

But, what if the Love still clenches and possesses the soul?

The soul which is heavenly connected to the other?

They say, Don't end your life like this...

But, is this NOT living a life?
Full of Love, nil expectations, only dreams, and lots of optimism?

Conspiracy

All right, this is one feeling, which I NOW know, has been through the minds of all the medical students. And I did mention ALL here. At least ONCE it definitely would have.

God conspired against me and hence, sent me to Medicine.

Google Images

When, How and Why did we feel this is completely, an another story. (And I would rather not dwell into it.)

I had my share of this feeling ever since I entered the degree course, the so-called M.B.B.S.
After joining the course, a month's wrath was enough to make me feel unfitted. But, my dears insisted me to continue & I gave to their wishes.

5 years of life into medicine, I have literally 'passed' my life i.e. in the sense of 'time-pass'. The only motivations I have had on and off have been from the clinics and the researches.
The academic life sucks. Especially since I hate theories. The books are highly un-interesting to me since I seriously can't just read onto such an interesting science and imagine things.

Anyways, apart from the occasional attractions after working in clinics, I rarely find times when I feel I suit to the field of Medicine.

But, sadly I don't find a way out either.
And, sadly I won't earn much either.
And, grimly, I would still be a graduate, once I am out. Even after 6 years of studies.
Also, there's isn't much anyone's left to do after they've passed this sentence.

So, I have all the reasons to believe that God conspired against me.
And, I know he's enjoying sitting there, high above, watching me feel confused, frustrated and irritated.
Haaa!!
Have a Laugh, God !
I'll pass the challenges. You keep on looking.
 ;-)

PS: I know this is the completely imperfect time of the year to rant against God, or for the matter of fact anyone. I am sorry readers. But, I had to.
Also, May this year be clear, progressive, happy, and joyous. Wishes.