Friday, June 29, 2007


Working along with Rajendran these many years (I don’t want to count how many years) have been an eye opener in many ways. When I first came to Kochi after my marriage, I think I believed that this would be short and temporary stay and that we would, after a couple of years move out of here. If someone had told me at that point that I would spend over 20 years here, I would have told them to go get their heads examined. But as we spread roots here, (I did, Rajendran’s were already well entrenched, only I did not know it) I decided that I might as well enjoy life as it comes.

Long ago before the Kumbalanghy Bridge came up, the Lions Club had a weekly medical camp at the Kumbalanghy School and Rajendran being a lion in those far off days, was roped in to attend them. So every Thursday afternoon a group of us would go in a car the long way round via Kannamaly. I say we, because by then I decided that I might as well pitch in.

My job then was to dispense the medicines. Now I had no idea of the names that the average Malayali could dream up. Names like Jeejo, jojo, jibi and joji were far from my usual horizons. And I expected names to have an age limit. For instance, the names above could only be for young kids, not those over, say 30 years of age. I made up a game as I dispensed the medicines. I would imagine a person for each name. I would read out the names in the medicines slips and wait with bated breath as it were, to see whether my association for the name and the person would match. Mostly it didn’t, thanks to the Malayali felicity with names. But my biggest surprise was when I dispensed medicines to Rocky. Those days, the movie Rocky I and Rocky II about the fighter Rocky Balboa had been released. So naturally I associated the name with a Sylvester Stallone type a character. Some one strong and virile. So I called out the name Rocky and waited. Rocky arrived. He was 75 years old and bent over with age. Rocky had severe asthma so he wheezed with every step. He couldn’t be further from my Sly Stallone association.

Even now I play the game sometimes. What do you expect Saed Afridi, Lata Mangeshkar, Vani Jayaram, Tipsy and Wasim Akram to look like?

I kid you not. These are names of Dr Shaila’s patients. If you don’t believe me ask her!!!

Wednesday, June 27, 2007

May was a hectic month,travelling between Chennai Bangalore and Cochin.

Why you might ask.. for kichus admissions. Actually,come to think of it that was not much runing around to do and Kichu has got admission in almost all colleges he applied to. Finally he decided on Loyola College, Chennai for Economics. I'm happy coz its a good college and not too far away. He can come over some weekends if he wants to. Meera is too far away for that, a fact that I really regret. ALso the fact that we sent her to Bangalore for her studies after the 10th. Should have kept her here for another 2 year. At that point, I didnt realise how quickly time flies and too soon it is time for the babies to fly away.
Now for it to be perfect, she should get a job in Chennai or Bangalore........
That would be too good to be true, I dont think God would allow that.

Am waiting for July 21st for Harry Potter to make his appearance.....

IMA musings

As I sit down to write this I haven’t the faintest idea what to write about. Hari had requested me for an article many weeks ago and the first one I sent him was sent to the editorial waste basket. He asked me to sent him another one (“brief and witty” were his exact words). Since then, I have struggled to put pen to paper, and have ended up being neither witty nor brief.

What does one write about with the dead line looming up a couple of hours ahead of you? Try it!! The cogs of your brain seize up!!!!

Trying valiantly again... no topic in mind, not even a germ of a witty line. Another factor causing this writers block is the fact that it is for the IMA news letter. Does the article have to be about medicine or related things? And how can one be witty about such a serious thing as medicine?? Sacrilege!

Also the fact that I am not a Doctor and therefore not a member of the IMA as such, but a member of its sister organization, The Ladies Wing (which reminds me, I better check whether my membership dues are current). That fact alone mandates that I look at medicine and its practice from the sidelines, as it were. Of course from the side lines, one sees many hilarious things, but whether it can be the topic of an article to the News letter is another thing all together.

So I sit here in front of my computer, wondering what to write about. When I very foolishly said OK to Hari, let me confess I had in my mind, visions of a column in the newsletter something like Art Buchwald or perhaps even Erma Bombeck. Visions of dashing off small vignettes of medical life and life in its periphery... humorous and yet profound and touching. From the news letter I would progress naturally to the local newspapers and then further afield. Start one of those syndicated columns. I would be famous. Earn a lot of money. Those dreams are rapidly going the way of Bertie Wooster and his masterpiece “What the well dressed man is wearing” for his aunt Dahlia’s rag Milady’s Boudoir.

I shall try for some more time and then tell Hari I can’t do it. Perhaps I shall have to avoid him each time I see him at the IMA meetings. Maybe I should just ring him up and tell him right now. Maybe I should move to the Middle East some where…?