The Year of Detox

My favourite month of the year is running away so fast! It's already the 25th of July and I still haven't updated my birthday special post. Hmpfh. I've been busy.
I'm perpetually busy and perpetually exhausted. Interning, you see, is not an easy business. If you do your job badly, you get yelled at. If you do your job well, you will still get yelled at. Why? Because you're an intern. The lowest rung of medical hierarchy, the bottom of the food chain.
It's an hierarchy of screwed people screwing other people. The HOD screws the Associate Professor who screws the Senior Resident who screws the Junior Resident who in turn screws the Intern. It's the Game of Screws!

But amidst all the screws and pricks lies the one driving force for any intern: Satisfaction.
The satisfaction of action
The satisfaction of a correct diagnosis
The satisfaction of initiating the right treatment, unsupervised
The satisfaction of a successful wide-bore cannulation
The thrill of your first IV injection!
Delivering a baby!
Receiving a baby!
Administering CPR!
Interning is a marvellous series of "firsts," and nothing like the "firsts" American television tells you about. Being an intern is a glorious feeling. I LOVE IT.

Hey, but that's not all I'm busy with! Interns, by definition, are multi-taskers.
We work, we study, we party, the brave ones venture into marriage and the rest of us get busy dressing up and hogging on wedding food, we pick fights and dress wounds, we make time to actively hate and actively love Residents, we organise birthday parties, brainstorm over gifting options, we work over a patient's surgery while worrying over another one's prognosis, we plan our futures, we sacrifice precious weekends for attainment of said future...we WORK 36 HOUR SHIFTS! We work 36 hour shifts and report for duty, right on time, the very next day.

Interns are most under-appreciated superheroes of any hospital.

But enough of this medical jargon, Grey's Anatomy has got that covered.
This month began with me turning very old :/
And this year I did not find a lot of time to ponder and retrospeculate. If you're wondering why, you've probably skipped reading the first 2 paragraphs. I suggest you go back and start over.

In spite of the lack of retrospective analysis, I do know one thing for sure. This has been my Year of Detox. Let's just put it this way:

When life gives you snakes...

Collect the venom...

Create an anti-venom...

Obtain a patent...

GROW RICH!

Say "buahahahaha you evil snake," in your head.

BE HAPPY!

This advice is the product of living with snakes for a fair bit of time. It will come in handy. Thank me later!

And if you find this advice Riddikulus...that's the whole point! *youuu seee whaat I diiiiid theeere!*
Wisdom and philosophy can only get you so far. It is laughter and gaiety that will take you through the rest. Isn't that how we ward away Dementors and Boggarts alike?
Laugh it all away and better things will come.

So that's it for my 22nd year wrap up! I wish you and I wish myself all the many giggles life has to offer. Always remember to do no harm but to take no shit either.
And above all, be unapologetically silly!

Until next time, byeeeee!

What a Good Day Looks Like

Writing this post today fills me with embarrassment because this is a task I should have finished about 4 months ago. I will however excuse myself because the last few months have driven me bonkers, just by the sheer load of things that had to be accomplished. Updating my blog was no emergency.

A lot needs to be said about the year that was and a lot of "events" need documenting. I will however begin with something that is easiest and requires early attention. Easy because I simply have to type off a piece of paper and the urgency because that piece of paper is in tatters. No points for guessing, it is yet another debate speech from yet another college fest :D

Although I do not know who suggested the topic for this year's debate, I'm guessing it was the same person who drew the flag of Japan, or the guy who scrawled Nike's logo. Lazy and outright boring.
"Social Media does more harm than good."
*sigh*
How do you even make something like that sound unique and interesting?
My partner (Sana Nayeemunissa aka Nemo) and I (aka Nido) tried our best, even managed to include poetry in the 2 minutes of speaking time!
I'm guessing we weren't altogether boring, because we took home the silver baby! (Why it wasn't gold is a whole different, super annoying story, so I'm going to skip it altogether.)

I spoke for the topic. Here goes:

_________________________________________________________________

The first word my nephew learnt to speak was "mummy."
His second word was "daddy."
His third word however, was "Yuttu."
"Yuttu" was a magical word that made my nephew finish his food without a tantrum and go to bed without a fuss. Needless to say, his parents loved "Yuttu."

"Yuttu" was my one year old nephew's way of saying- Youtube.
(true story)

Our generation is constantly blamed for being too engrossed in out gadgets, but I also see parents who cannot be bothered to spend time with their child, or even talk to him. They simply shove a gaming tab in their hands and get busy with their own mobiles.
It's true, social media does a greater job of raising the children of today.

Also, back in the day, a child bullied at school would at least be safe at home. But today this bullying follows him home in the form of text messages and insulting tweets. Think about it for a while. Does a school-going child really need a phone? Sirs, you and I grew up without one and I think we turned out pretty fine. These are distractions at best and tools of aggression and hostility at worst...because a child who knows how to watch his favourite cartoon online today, will learn how to access pornography tomorrow. No wonder "cyber crime" is such a buzz-word these days.

In fact, children exposed to social media early on in life are found to have much less patience and understanding of the world around them. This transition from "human-beings" to "cyber-zombies" is happening much too fast.

If I had to define the word social media, I'd call it "an adult's glorified toy."
Because let's face it, it makes sounds, it makes you laugh and you feel better when you're online. It is now simply a tool to stroke your own ego.
I have sent out my tweet. Now whether this birdie flies or poops on your head, I don't have a care to spare.

We have the entirety or knowledge known to mankind since the dawn of time at our fingertips, but we use it to talk about pens, apples and pineapples.
The world is changing as you change your display pictures and much of this change is happening OUTSIDE of social media, because let me remind you: Gandhiji's Dandi March was not an event he created on Facebook.

So this is my plea, for my generation and the generations that will follow:

When I was a child, I'd never be home,
I'd be out with my friends, on our bikes we'd roam.
I'd wear holes in my trainer and graze up knees,
or build club-houses high up in the trees.
But now the park is so quiet, it gives me a chill,
No children playing outside, the swings hang still!
There's no skipping, no hopscotch, no church and no steeple,
It's true, we're a generation of idiots- smart phones and dumb people.
So don't give into a life that simply follows the hype,
give people your love, don't give them your "like."
______________________________________________________________

Our team was highly praised by doctors, seniors and juniors alike. The wave of applause and appreciation that followed made up for any chunk of yellow metal we rightfully deserved but didn't get. No complains there!

Just before the debate, I made an impromptu decision to participate in the extempore as well. The topic I got was "Should human beings eat to live or live to eat?"
I know, I know. I spent the entire one minute of my "prep-time" in thinking about what a supernaturally boring topic it was. At the end of the minute when I finally found myself at the podium, I realised I hadn't thought of a single thing to say!
I took a deep breath and decided to go with the flow. I think I ended up with something along these lines:

The very first thing I remember about learning History in elementary school was the story of our ancestors: the cave men. We learnt that men in the ancient past had to hunt to sustain themselves. In order to procure food for his family, man would step out with spears and daggers each day. Yes, back in the day, man fought a battle between life and death in order to find food.

But we evolved over the years. We no longer go hunting to find food, the food comes to our doorstep. Food is no longer considered a basic necessity. It is now looked upon as an art, which is evident from the fact that we have something like the "MasterChef" and "DoctorChef" competitions today.
In conclusion, the idea that man must eat in order to live is passe, primordial even.
Most certainly, the human beings of today, you and I, live to eat, rather than eat to live.

To be honest, I was quite surprised by myself. I hadn't seen that coming until it came. It got me a medal too, yay!

That was a good day, one of my most cherished ones. The prizes and the praise were completely overshadowed by what came next. My classmates, in an unnatural burst of unity, decided to try out the rides that were put up in the college grounds! The giant wheel was fun but the break dance was mental! I don't think I will find people shrieking with fear and laughing with joy at the same time ever again.

I went home that day with a huuuuge smile. ;)

Et tu, yet again Brute?

On the ides of March, when the dagger pierced through Caesar's back in a fatal blow, the words that escaped from the mouth of the dying man were so powerful that they betrayed his own body as it fell limp and powerless.
Et tu, Brute? Then fall Caesar!
Is it you my beloved Brutus? Then surely, Caesar will meet his end, without resistance.
Surely, Caesar will find his solace in the (bloodied) arms of his best friend.
Surely, Caesar will give Brutus what Brutus desires.

Beautiful, isn't it? I have forever been in love with the words spoken by a man on the cusp of death, slain by the one he most loved. If it is you on the striking end Brute, Caesar will fall with grace.
To me, those words epitomise friendship. They form the foundation- albeit subconsciously- of most of my relationships. Unflinching, unwavering trust and respect. What else can otherwise prompt a man to say I'm sure there is good reason behind this action, so I'm going to respect it.
But let's just consider this for a moment: what if Caesar hadn't died then? Let's say Caesar survived; betrayed, wounded- but alive. What do you think would happen, now that reality had became clear? Now that Caesar could completely absorb the horrors of his friend's crime, what action would he take? Would Brutus be punished, exiled, tortured...or killed?
NOPE.
The Caesar that I have come to understand was a man of integrity. A man who protected his friendship when dying, would surely not allow it to fray, now that he was alive. Brutus would hence continue to enjoy his status as a Minister, an adviser and a friend- much to the disbelief of his fellow Romans. Caesar's "second life" was to proceed as though no damage had occurred to the former, and Brutus was to proceed as though his soul was free from sin.

Ofcourse in writing the above paragraphs, I have completely discounted "Fitrah" from the equation. What I have written is a Utopian tale, where Caesar and Brutus are seen riding unicorns and painting rainbows. An ending where Caesar is wiser and Brutus is loyal and nobody is hurt.
But Fitrah is not a thing to be easily ignored. It is the final sting in the tale that can veer my story completely off-course.

So what would we see, if we were to add Fitrah into the equation? We'd see honourable Brutus striking once again. It could be a dagger, a sword, poison or maybe just a string of words spat out with venom. Because it is in Brutus' Fitrah to strike, especially now that he knew his friend's foolish virtues. He could do anything, say anything and this emotional fool of a Caesar would take it all! Better yet, he could now do it without batting an eyelid- he was getting better and better at it after all. He could now let Caesar bleed out in front of his eyes, and if Caesar were to express his agony, Brutus could simply say "You're Caesar, you fight battles, you're pro at bleeding out."
One can almost hear him say:

As Caesar loved me, I weep for him;  

as he was fortunate, I rejoice at it;

as he was valiant, I honour him:

but, as he was ambitious, I slew him.

And in this manner,  mighty Caesar would face defeat, yet again, by the man he most loved.

Well...not quite.

We seem to have forgotten one other factor in narrating the above tale: Endurance.
Caesar, a man who had lived through a life that was sometimes worse than a nightmare, was fast getting tired. Brutus' seemed to have lost his sense of moral direction and Caesar's patience and endurance had been stretched to the maximum, ready to snap at the slightest provocation. The provocation came in bucketfuls.
"You're Caesar, you fight battles, you're pro at bleeding out."
AS IF IT WAS A SHOW!
Wounds on the battle-field are inflicted by the enemy and are always easy to fix. Caesar's wounds were far worse, in both cause and effect.
To put it in a modern way, Caesar was "done."
The mighty Caesar who was to lay at the foot of Pompey's statue once again, had decided he wouldn't. Not one more time and definitely not by the same person.

You can imagine what a shock it might have been for poor old Brutus! Caesar had suddenly found a voice! ( but of course, he was pro at addressing large audiences, wasn't he?) Not only had Caesar "found his voice," he seemed to have grown in courage too. Because for the first time in his two lives, he chose HIMSELF.

And that is how, Caesar lives onto this day. His story begins in death and ends with life and teaches me a lesson I needed to learn myself:

It's a Wrap!

I still cannot believe it's done. DONE!

I have never had as much coffee, as much stress and as much panic all my life combined as I've had in the last one month. The January of 2017 was the most unnerving and aneurysm-popping month to have lived through. And although I do not have a lot to brag about, because the sheet of paper that holds my future in it still hasn't been printed, I do get a moment to vent. Maybe I do not deserve a celebration yet, maybe I wont even get to celebrate...but I do deserve a rant into space. Because the universe saw me. Me in my moments of despair. Me in my moments of choking tears. Me in my moments of utter helplessness. Me reduced to rags and ashes. The universe saw me live through that and now it must hear me scream and shout.

The final exams of the Final Year of Medicine are straight out of a child's nightmare. A nightmare that shows no signs of coming to an end. One after the other after the other, you just cannot stop to catch a breather. So yes, I've been running a rat-race since the 20th of January, which only just ended on the 14th of this month. Boy am I exhausted.

Pick up any day from the passing month and I can tell you that it was packed with anxiety, tremors, tears, pep-talk, despair, prayers and caffeine. Notice that I make no mention of sleep. Because sleep is for the weak. Slogging is victory. And what do I mean by slogging? Take a look:

And this is even before exams began!
The truth is, even after a month long exam preparation, you're going to run out of time. You are going to come to a point where the balance just doesn't tip in your favour. And this is the all-deciding moment: what to study and what to sacrifice.
Rheumatology or Endocrinology?
Bladder or Rectum?
Humerus or Femur?
Normal labour or Abnormal labour?
This vaccine or that disease?
This 10 marker or that 4 marker?
You have to ration, negotiate, analyse, decide and then valiantly stick to your decision, which has EVERY chance of being a bad one.
You chose to skip the vaccine? Very well, that's the one you're going to have to write about.
You chose Femur over Humerus? Tut tut, let's see you write an essay about the neck of Radius.

I make no exaggeration when I say this has been the toughest, most hectic month of my entire study. Time is not your friend and neither is guy setting your exam papers. With both factors against you, all you really have is a tug-of-war between despair and hope. Admittedly, there have been times when despair has won. Taking a nap with alarms scheduled to go off in 7 minutes, shaking all over as you try to have breakfast, eating and then puking it all out, crying for no reason at all and thinking if you're the only one this is happening to...is a pretty regular routine for people on my side of life.

And the experience of meeting friends on the morning of the exam. Those are moments of such restrained but palpable frenzy that one cannot fathom off hand. I call this an experience because NO ONE knows what it is like unless you're standing outside the exam hall 10 minutes before you go in and trying to cram in one last etiology, one last pathogenesis, one last treatment protocol that might decide success or failure. Those last few seconds of snatching snippets from here and there, being aware of every conversation around you as you assemble your stationery for the exam...as you finally slam your book shut and throw it into your bag...as you sit down to drink water to calm your hyperactive nerves....as you are checked for chits and devices of malpractice...every second of these moments may prove crucial in some form or the other over the next couple of hours.
But of course, the universal dictum of Medical Education: If you've studied it, it will not be asked. But you cram in anyway. You absorb as much information as is passively possible. Because at least you will know you've done your very best till the last glorious second. Those are the moments when you are truly united with each other. United by fear. United by hope.

I have not done well on these exams. I admit so quite honestly. My nerves have not kept up with me and my days have been pretty bad. So I am not proud of myself. If there ever was a practical example of "the calm before the storm," this must be it. I am making a conscious effort to let the monotony of life take over me this month. I cook, clean, eat, read, paint, play, talk, sleep and give myself just enough work to do in order to keep my mind occupied, but not encumbered. I have gone over the possible consequences in the future and I have decided to deal with them when they strike. Atleast this time, failure will not come as a surprise. If I couldn't be prepared enough to take an exam, I might as well be prepared to face the aftermath. This is not a survival story worth preserving like it's counterpart 4 years ago. The only sequel this story gets is that of sleep, rest and rejuvenation.

Because like Franz Kafka said: "If you wake the future early, you get a groggy present."

We party with Pizza instead ;)
                                       

Dangerous

Isn't it dangerous? The amount of hurt that can hide inside a person. The magnitude of devastation it can cause, if unleashed. The number of people it can fool, just by smiling.

Isn't it dangerous? How people can walk the tight rope between happy and sad, knowing that no one is watching. No one to cheer if you walk, no one to catch if you fall.

Isn't it dangerous? The acute exacerbation of a chronic pain. Pain that was never really relieved, just forgotten. A wound that never really healed, just patched up.

Isn't it dangerous, how all this can happen and no one will know?

No one will ever know the tempest of thoughts in your head.
No will will ever know the anguish inside your chest.
No one will ever know how silently you endure.
No one will know because you will never show.

No one will ever know the aggression of your struggle.
No one will ever see the mist in your eyes.
No one will ever know of your Jihad against self.
No one will know because you will never show.

No one will ever love you the way you have loved.
No one will ever have your back.
No one will ever know the damage they have caused.
No one will know because you will never show.

No one will ever want you.
No one will ever need you.
You were always an option, never a choice.

Isn't it dangerous?
The amount of pain invisible to the eye. The monsters we fight in secret. The facades we create in public. The hearts we break with our actions. The illusions we create with our speech. The friend that fails you in time of need. The love that goes unnoticed. The care that goes unacknowledged.
The grief caused in the name of love. The betrayal caused in the name of friendship.

Isn't it dangerous?
The search of relief by ranting to a computer screen?

This Was Long Due

Hola amigos! Once again, I realize how ridiculously long it has been since I last visited this beloved space of mine. But I come bearing gold. Quite literally!

November blew past my face in a frenzy of activity. My favourite activities for that matter ;)
As my college celebrated it's annual fest, I celebrated the things I love doing most. To be honest, it was long due. And when on the 10th of November I walked up the dias, faced a room full of people and spoke into a mic, I realized it had been a long time since I had felt alive.
The thrill of public speaking is amazing, but when the crowd breaks into applause right in the middle of your monologue...it's an other-worldly feeling.

The topic of this year's debate was "Is abortion murder?" With me speaking in the affirmative.
(Yes, even our literary events are medical :P)
And before I manage to lose the piece of paper that bears my speech, I'm going to type it out here.

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I was a miracle. I beautiful miracle. I lay peacefully, reclining on exquisite, velvety cushions, so wonderfully warm and protective. Food came floating to me and all I had to do was absorb. Cosy and comfortable, I began to grow. Cell by cell, inch by inch, I grew.
Until the day I was pinched, grabbed, cut and crushed. I was sucked out of a home originally built to protect me, I struggled. I fought. My blood pressure began to rise and my pulse began to race.

Until the noxious chemicals trickled in...and then it was all over.

I am a Medical Professional, being trained to protect and preserve life. And today I talk on behalf of those who stand at the very beginning of life, especially those little pre-born humans, who today reside in the wombs of their mothers and will be soon delivered...or MURDERED.

Abortion IS murder which snuffs out an innocent life. And even if we were to distance ourselves and call it a "zygote" a "parasite" or even a "chunk of tissue," give it 266 days and see what emerges from the mother's wombs. It will be a human being. Only machines like clocks and cars come into existence part by part. Living beings come to exist from the very moment of conception, fulfilling all 4 criteria of "Biological Life."
A zygote possesses inherent metabolism. It grows. It responds to stimuli and it divides.
And unless this little human begins to endanger the life of it's protector, it's termination IS tantamount to murder.

But what of little humans arising out of disgraceful events- let's say rape?
Remember that this little human is not responsible for his own creation. NO human being is! The guilt lies with the man and it cannot be imputed to the child.
Rape per se is not an indication for abortion. The woman needs support- mental, physical and financial. NOT an abortion. You do not nullify a tragedy by committing another. two wrongs don't make a right.

Contraception can fail and the best of planning can fall apart. Responsible people have to make tough choices sometimes. Ending a life is not a choice, it's an escape route!
Financial constraints and social evils ARE intimidating, but all life is precious- ask a childless couple.

Furthermore, abortion arising out of any reason is traumatic. It violates the woman's body that has been physiologically prepared to nurture a growing life. And that is why, an abortion brings with it feelings of self-destruction, guilt and isolation, Much like the feelings of a murderer in the aftermath of his crime.

Nothing can erase what an abortion does. It takes- it kills- an innocent life and that is irreparably wrong. An unborn child is not a potential person, he/she is a person with much potential.

I wonder if you have ever noticed the ease with which people talk about appendicectomies, knee replacements and even cosmetic surgery. But NO ONE ever freely talks about an abortion. Because no one can talk freely about murder.

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 This was followed by an equally powerful speech by my partner, Sana Nayeemunisa. Our team, Spartans-2012 was unanimously declared the winning team. :D

Despite the praise and adulation that followed, the two and half minutes I spent on the podium were minutes of true, unadulterated joy for me. Something that even the medal and the trophy cannot overshadow.



                                         


Buuuuut isn't it cool when you are simply doing something that you love to and someone hands you a prize for it? ;)

21 years of Alhumdulillah

Today I start to retrospect again, with a write-up that has become an almost ritualistic part of my blog. I have been blessed enough to greet yet another July, making this my 21st. Yes, senility has struck and the metaphyseal plates have closed. The time to grow has passed, time to evolve has begun.

For long I have wondered what this article should be about, what events of importance must it include, what feelings it must convey and what it must conclude with. I scanned a trained eye over everything that was, on the lookout for anything that could add significance to this article. What I found was overwhelming. Overwhelmingly simple.

I found twenty one years of Alhumdulillah.

This has been the most splendidly master-minded life. A life where Blessings far outnumber any complain my human-self could make. A life that has overcompensated for any deprivation, any failure, any loss I ever took. My life with all it's "flaws," has been nothing short of perfect. Alhumdulillah.

But to you, dear reader, I have something else to say. Maybe you have followed this blog since it's inception or maybe this is your first ever visit here. It doesn't matter. If you are reading this, here is what I want to tell you:


DON'T EVER DESPAIR.
Hang in there with a smile and I promise you it'll be fine. Pray. Pray the pain away. Let the Heavens know you're hurting, not people. Cry not on a shoulder, but in seclusion, with Angels for company. If you hit dark times, look for light within. If you find yourself alone, tell yourself that's stupid; the people of Alhumdulillah are NEVER alone.
If you are physically wounded, give it time. For a broken spirit, apply some Faith.
When knocked down by Life, cushion the fall with Patience. Be patient, and God will be with you. Learn to labour and to wait.

FORGIVE.
Yourself first, then everyone else. We are imperfect beings in a perfect world who ride on infinite Mercy to get by each day. Pass on this favour, for this is no small feat. Spread among people that which rains upon you from the Heavens.
Revenge is immature. Revenge is fickle. Those who seek it seek only to harm themselves.
Look around you in those "this is so unfair!" moments. Look around you. Are you a small child? At the bottom of a well? On a dark, starless night? Thrown in there by the people you most loved?
Ofcourse not.
No matter what your situation is and no matter who put you in there, remind yourself that you have not been thrown into a well while the world presumed you dead. And if little Yusuf Alaiyhissalam could find it in him to forgive, then so can you.

SAY ALHUMDULILLAH.
This is the perhaps the simplest trick of the lot and my most sincere request to you, dear reader. Appreciate the little gears that click impeccably to get your life going. If you think you're in a bad place, say Alhumdulillah. Because in these bad places and the by these wrong choices is how you learn the best of lessons. Say Alhumdulillah when you're in pain, for pain purges you of impurities like fire purges metal. Say Alhumdulillah when loneliness creeps in, because God wants one-on-one time with you.
Have a complain? Tell Him. Unprepared for exams? Tell Him.  Feeling sick? Tell Him. Want your Haemoglobin to rise? Tell Him (< true story :P) Sad? Tell Him. Happy? Tell Him!
Tell Him because He wants to hear from you.
Do you know your heart stops beating for a split second when you sneeze? And that is why you say Alhumdulillah after. Seriously, imagine having to use a defibrillator to revive sinus rhythm each time you sneezed!
My point here? It's only a matter of perspective. You could either complain about the cold, or claim brownie points each time you sneezed. ;)


So that sums up a lifetime of lessons. After finding my way through wide lanes, wrong turns, shady alleyways and confusing road maps, I am here now. I am exactly where I was supposed to be and headed exactly where I am supposed to go. And so are you!
Never despair, always forgive and give thanks. This is a journey worth taking.

Alhumdulillah.