புன்னகை அரசிக்கு பக்தனின் காணிக்கை.

முதல்முதல் உன் வேல் விழி பார்த்து என்னை மறந்தேன்
கருங்கூந்தல் அருவியில் என் மனதை இழந்தேன்!

கல்லுக்குள்ளும் ஈரம் உண்டு என்று என்னை உணர வைத்தாய்
மறந்து போன கவிதை ஊற்றை, கடல் போல் என்னுள் பெருக வைத்தாய்.

திருக்குறளையே திருத்தி எழுத முனைந்தேன்,
குழல் இனிது யாள் இனிது என்பதம் மக்கள் உன் சொல் கேளா தவர்

கைக்கெட்டா கானல்நீர் போல் கண்கள் காணும் கனவு நீ
பிரம்மன்னிற் சிறந்த சிற்ப்பியின் சித்தத்தில் செதுக்கப்பெற்ற பொற்சிலை நீ.

புன்னகைக்கு அரசியே!
மொத்த அழகிற்க்கும் அடைக்கலம் தந்த உன் மனதில் இடம் உண்டா எனக்கு?
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The story of the seed that never sprouted.

I dont really remember the beginning. It was all dark and gloomy. I existed as two parts that were whole, yet did not know themselves. They just did what nature and  a few millennia of evolution had taught them. Breed the next generation of trees. The first thing that I knew was darkness. I felt all the life beside me. All my brothers and sisters. Every single life force around me throbbed with energy. The energy of the largest tree. I was destined not to bear sweet fruits edible for the masses, nor beautiful flowers that got more beautiful as they adorned the black cascades of the maiden. No, I was above all such small destinies. Even then, when I was nothing more than a mixture of few atoms bound together, I knew I was meant for more. I knew I was special. I was meant to be great. Greater than my fellows. Greater than the greatest. I was little but my dreams were so large I was sure the reason the cosmos kept expanding was simply to keep up with me. These dreams and the destiny I dreamed of kept me strong and I awaited the day I would be freed from the fruit. The fruit that kept me and numerous others like me nourished. It offered safety and care. But it was too small for me. I cried with joy when the bird ate my guardian and nourisher, who even at the end of its life gave us a better chance to succeed. For we needed the birds to carry us far.  And in its final act of self sacrifice the fruit gave me a way to fulfill my destiny. The bird gave me hope and lift to leave my crib and journey far. I was yet to see light, but I knew I would soon have more than enough of the mighty Sun's nourishing rays. The banyan tree is different from your average Apple or orange in that we need the help of fellow banyans to thrive. A seed that hits the earth dies, more often than not. And the seed that falls on a fellow tree is nourished as a lovable parasite that grows along with its patron. As the bird soared so did my mind! Nature is a gentle mother. She tends to the greenery and colourful flowers and the sweet smelling fruits with Care and dedication. But she is also as cruel as the storm in uprooting unbowing trees and apparently letting seeds learn the truth the hard way. For as I felt my fellow seeds leaving the bird to settle on patron giants, so I felt myself hitting the solid earth. I felt myself slip through one of numerous cracks and lay deep in the cold hard earth. I was not to have the warmth and coddling of the great trees. Nature is terrible, but just. For it would not abandon me to misery if she thought I was incapable of greatness. For does not greatness come from facing defeat and not being defeated. I knew the path I had been shown was hard. But the earth is also a mother. She is God. And God gives all her children equally! She cares for me as much as for the orange seed nearby, though she gives him more water, probably as he needes more. God cares for me as she shows me defeat as I vie for the success for the defeat makes me more thirst, though the neem tree was gifted success for reasons well known to her. I see the Grass that steals my time to sprout just because he is is higher than me in the ground, and I watch him waste the generous rewards. All through these three years I vie and try to my hearts content for defeat surely exists only in my mind! I fail to grasp what nature and God are trying to teach me! I fight, for to give up would reflect badly upon the crop from where I have sprung! The progeny of great trees can't be denied for long. And to give up and shrivel like the tamarind seed burried above me is just not in my nature. Time is funny as it is independent of all and none are independent of it. Time waits for none and everyone falls prey to it. Time is so cruel that it corrodes the very earth and makes mountains and destroys them in its timeless whim. And time is my enemy. For my energy dwindles with every passing year. I see new seeds dropping close. More prepared than me to survive in this environment that becomes even more harsh.  And with every passing day I feel my deficiencies growing. It has now been long since I should have given up. Yes, I feel it now. I understand what God has been trying to teach me. It was that I did not possess the will to survive. I was not great. I was not unique. I was insignificant. I did not work hard enough as I did not know how. I was being taught the greatest lesson time teaches. The lesson of defeat. I had mistaken each full stop for a comma and proceeded as an unhinged mad fool. More often than not, a full stop is what it is. And to delude myself otherwise was my fatal mistake. Today as I finally give up and shrivel, I release into the world my pride. I abandon hope, the cruel mirage, the drug of the insanely young. I give up all my dreams and embrace defeat for it offers solace albiet with deadly finality. As I shrivel down and my determination seeps out as tears, I have but one disappointment. That of having never seen light. 

MBBS- A Doctor's limited perspective.

"I am a doctor."
Spoken with the sort of finality as would be expected of a marathon winner or the Tour le France cyclist. For if any could rival those peaks of endurance, an apt competitor would be the MBBS graduate.

My father is a doctor. Two of my aunts are doctors. An uncle and a cousin are as well. Not accounting the distant and not so distant, my extented family has seen its fair share. That my father was the first was not lost on me, rather IMPRESSED upon and none too subtly. Still I will credit my parents for never implying their discernable expectations. Long story short, I sweated it out and managed to get an MBBS seat. Short story elaborated on, two years of exile and nerve wracking prep later, I managed to be placed in the 4th ranked college by date of founding.

Everyone was proud. But me. Don't mistake me. I was proud too. But I felt relief outweigh pride and significantly so. Here was a chance to be among the CREAMY LAYER OF STUDENTS for once. Whirlwind of a five years later, I now am a doctor. But there is no finality.

About 40 thousand odd MBBS graduates accompanied me last year. And when I say the journey is but merely starting, 39999 would say AMEN.

What is it about MBBS that it is so highly regarded? And why do the graduates not realise that? Simple questions, requiring complex answers.

Our journey began in 2007. That we had to pass all subjects in the first year or have ourself make a seperate batch was not lost on us. And the staff made sure it wasnt either. Imagine our feeling when we learnt we had evaded a bullet only to be put in front of a firing squad again. The true horror of the situation dawned upon me when my adopted sister from our batch failed. She was a pretty strong willed person for breaking the news with little tremble in her voice. But I felt the helplessness and the finality of an unnecessary sentence dictating the course of life. Yet such is life. Hindsight.
All was not hardship. We had our moments of joy, fun and pranks. Dissection hall comedies, me "SINGING" in class! Forging New friends while struggling to maintain the old. We were naive.

The second and third year require enough mention for but the sake of completion. I barely remember one useful thing I did during those two and a half years. Dont blame me! I just about managed to escape the firing squad too rememeber!!! But I do remember this conversation I had with a lady at the rotary convention.

She- My son has finished his 5th sem!
Me- Great aunty! Were is he studying?
She- XYZ clg! Which year are you in?
Me- Second year.
She- Still in second year? Y? U failed sem exam?
Me- No aunty! Our secind year is 1.5 yrs.
She- So u studying 6 months extra? Is it for extra credit?
Me- No aunty our exams for second year s only after 1.5 years. Our total course s 5.5 years.
She- But y do u have to study extra 6 months?
Me- ( good question) cos tat is our course duration aunty!
She- Oh! So all have to study or only u?
At this point am not sure if she being blockheaded deliberately.
Me- Everyone aunty.
She- I have never heard this before!
Me- smiling! ( there are more things in mere earth than are dreamt of in ur puny brain aunty)

So when our engineering friends forged ahead to placements, we were still contemplating our second year exams! And when they did get placed, I was in third year. Our clinical year brings several memories. Trying to diagnose cases not knowing head from foot, bravely answering nonsense and getting laughed at by seniors.

I remember this case our chief asked to examine. There was a murmur in the wrist with a nearby scar. He asked us the diagnosis.
My friend- There is a pump implanted.
Me- There is some machine implanted.
My other friend- There is a vibrator there!
The only gal in our group- Dunno sir.

Now I'd compliment him for not losing his head then and there. But he never said a word to us after and never took a class for us ever. Tough when we had to face our exams.

And when I mention exams I must say, we ought to rename ourself the GUINEA PIG BATCH. Each year we would sit for a different pattern and the distressing thing is it has continued to plague us in pg. But am gettin ahead of myself.

So entering final year, having had my life turned upside down ( irrelevant story, but there is one), I once again faced the firing squad and now I was nonchalant. If not for my friends I'd have died there. But as it is, I slugged it out, racing from posting to posting, ward to class and of course some fun. Now point of notice! We never had any break between papers or subjects. So if we were unfortunate to have our exams start on a Monday we'd have 5 continuous days of exams. And what with the exam pattern changing every few days we only confirmed the pattern proposed on the day after seejng the question paper.

Let me describe the feel. You are on trial. You know not the seriousness of your crime. You know not the prosecutor. You know not the jury or the judge. You know not if you have exonerated yourself untill a few months. And you know not how much. Six months is not a mere time period, it is a mental blow. A sentence so barbaric, that it breaks not your body, but your soul.

And once again I felt the sorrow of losing one of my best friends, and frankly a guy who deserved more than me to have passed, not making it. 4 and a half years of a journey as varied as a anything in this world. And we were ready to go test our mettle on the good people.

Now most people who have finished would shudder at the word am about to mention. "CRRI"

Nothing anyone said could have prepared me for that one year. 40 plus hours of continuous works. Having our respect stolen, trampled upon, spit upon, laughed upon and humiliated in severals ways all the while not having the chance to better our education, with praises so sparce we forget its meaning and being scolded for the mistakes of persons we did not even know existed does not sum up and neither does us justice. There is no job that is outside out job description. Merciless seniors, pathetic yet problematic patients, and the staff nurses who seem to thing they are above all. I pride at being compassionate. I hav cried when I lost a patient under my hands. Felt helpless watching babies die. Fought with and lost against God several times. And in some way there was a ray of sunshine. A few praises from a few patients made our day. Felt the rush of diagnosing in the rare occasion we were allowed to. It was a cacophony of emotions. Draining yet distictively fullfilling. And finally we graduated. Moving on to coaching centres and hospitals and married lives!

And now let me tell you of an amusing tale that happened recently!. The man was an acquaintance.
He- So what are you doing now? Still in clg? ( not even Dr.Sheldon Cooper would miss the sarcasm)
Me- No. I hav finished.
He- So u are a doctor? ( incredulous finality) Congrats!
Me- Thank you! ( hoping the conversation would end)
He- So where are you practicing now?
Me- I am preparing for my pg entrance exam in kerela!
He- oh! You are doing your Pg in kerela?
Me- ( if only) no no. Am in a coaching centre to prepare for the exams!
He- You are in a coaching centre to prepare for the exams?
Me- Exactly!
He- So how long will you study to study pg! Ha ha ha ha ha! ( obviously it was some big joke! )
Me- (Gritting my teeth) hopefully an year.
He- So you gonna specialise in Medicine or Surgery?
Me- Either would be good. Depends on my rank.
He- Try for radiology! Heard it is easy to get!
Me- WHAT?!?!?!
He- Yes. Radiology or Neurology is good!
Me-!  ( smiling) ofcourse uncle ll try
He- (smiling) dont worry, even Kidney study is good. Cos we have two kidneys la!  Ha ha ha ha ha ( no idea why he laughed then. Promise)

Now I'd thank my mom for rescuing me then. Am sure almost all have such an encounter. MBBS has lost its sheen. No longer is it enough to have four letters behind your name to call yourself a doctor. No longer does MBBS command as much respect as it once did.

Most of my friends who chose the engineering field have successfully completed two years of work. Some hav added more letters to their credit. And yes, they would have their own stories of offices, and job hunting. And I dont begrudge them that. But I just wish to say as movie stars would, the glam is just sham.

Now in Aug 2013, 6 years after I started college. I have earned perhaps a few thousand during my CRRI period but only with my parents supporting me as well.
Some of my friends hav started working and some did earlier as well. Not being exposed to such usefulness, I feel a hesitation in saying what I said at the begining.

Good happens to those who are patient, better for the tolerant, and the best for the persistent. So goes my philosophy. Am eager to make it big. But not impatient. My time to shine may be delayed but not denied. And I will struggle forward at my own pace.

Remembering I have but spoken my views and only but a fraction, bottomline - MBBS, is a lifelong commitment. Not a casual fling! The level of dedication it demands is supreme, for human life is sacred. It is not an easy ride for all.

New blog on way!

A preview at my next blog!

"And now let me tell you of an amusing tale. The man was an acquaintance.
He- So what are you doing now? Still in clg? ( not even Dr.Sheldon Cooper would miss the sarcasm)
Me- No. I hav finished.
He- So u are a doctor? ( incredulous finality) Congrats!
Me- Thank you! ( hoping the conversation would end)
He- So where are you practicing now?
Me- I am preparing for my pg entrance exam in kerela!
He- oh! You are doing your Pg in kerela?
Me- ( if only) no no. Am in a coaching centre to prepare for the exams!
He- You are in a coaching centre to prepare for the exams?"

Coming soon- MBBS- A Doctor's limited perspective.

வாழ்வேன் என்று நினைத்தாயோ!

உன்னை பார்காதிருக்க வேண்டும் என்றாய்,
உன் நினைவுகளில் வாழும் வரம் தருவாயோ?
உன்னோடு பேசாதிருக்க வேண்டும் என்றாய்,
உன் குரலேனும் கேட்கும் வரம் தருவாயோ?
உன் விரல் கோர்த்து வாழ முடியாவிடிலும்,
உன் மடி சாய்ந்து இறக்கும் வரம் தருவாயோ?

The Soul Tree

No tree stood like The Soul tree.
Not green not brown but white through.
The people revered it as it grew.
For the soul of a child was linked to the tree.

Miracle was sought when Sveta was born.
For no healer nor mage could cure her.
Her loving mother would not deter.
And in front of The Soul tree, her life was sworn.

"I leave my life at your roots! Oh great tree.
My child of but a day already the love of my life.
For if not you can resolve this strife,
take her unto you and me in too for free."

So sayin on the wintery night,
her mother left her to the tree's ward.
The flesh went leaving the soul in shards.
Little Sveta unable to even cry of her blight.

Morning arose as is in inevitable delay.
Her mother faster than the wind, apprehension on her face.
Lo! Behold a miracle to her gaze!
No longer blighted and pure as snow her baby lay.

White locks and eyes and a pure white smile.
Like angels that did nor thought any bad.
A charm, the innocence wrought love as none had,
the people all besotted and, took no while.

The tree had made her life beautiful.
But mages warned of the holy connection.
As long as one lived the other prospered with affection.
And if either fall so shall the other as was fateful.

But Fate was kind to let them live.
Svelta now grown gorgeous.
The tree as young as her and righteous.
And happiness had no opposite to give.

The white locks now flowed like a water fall,
The blemishless face wrought by God's hand.
Her crystal eyes weaved magic like a wand.
Made her the dream of all young men, hearts toll.

On her slender neck the diamnod bequethed falls.
Her only inheritance the jewel it sat.
Crowned by her and made self more sought.
With the slow rise and fall of her chest did it fall.

Many a Hercules sought her in wedlock.
But one loved her like one had nor will.
Alas he was poor and ugly and lived up a hill.
Rejection he swallowed and for her would have the hemlock.

Then came the destined day.
Rode into town the rouge of the hovel.
Handsome as Apollo, sly as the Devil.
Many a lady his charm had slay.

Fate t'was Svelta fell for his grace.
Honey was no sweeter than his words.
Nor feather softer than his caresses.
Slowly he fed love into the poor girl's ways.

Many a town folk warned their child.
"Vile and evil is he,
Svelta, falleth not thee."
But love is foolish and blind and deaf and wild.

The rougue she chose over the bumbling fool.
The dashing handsome sport was dear.
True love is never worth, always mere
dust or less, before the eyes, the tool.

The true love hurt lik only true love can.
Like a million barbs of poison sting.
Tearing at the flesh no way to cringe.
Never forgotten and shall never wan.

The union of the thorn with the rose.
A miraculous mistake He made.
He, at the altar swore, as not to be swayed.
The rose no longer for all, but just prose.

The lovely night was spent in his arms.
But it was not without cost.
For greed he married and to greed he lost.
Turning the night bloody with her blood in swarms.

He was chased in vengence for the lost love.
The tree now browned and dyin with hurt
The scoundrel, alas too evil to twart.
Smote the only love and blood spilled how!

The tree so white so pure and oh so free.
Bears tresties to all that transpired.
So red as blood of the love in tragedy mired.
No tree stood like the soul tree.

நூலகத்தில் அவள் - முன்பனி!

கனவே நீ ஏன் கண் முன் வந்தாய்?
கைக்கெட்டும் தூரத்தில் ஆசைகள் பல தந்தாய்.
கவி பாடும் என் உதடுகளின் ஓசையை நீ வென்றாய்.
அழகான பாடல்களுக்கு அர்த்தங்கள் பல தந்தாய்.
கொடி இடை கொண்டு அன்ன நடை பயின்றாய்.
அழகுக்கே இலக்கணமாய் அழகே உருவாகி நின்றாய்.
உன் அழகை பாட வார்த்தைகள் இன்றி தவிக்கின்றேன்.
உன் கருவிழிகளில் நான் கரைந்து போகின்றேன்.