THE PONDERING PEDIATRICIAN

A CHRISTMAS POEM December is here; season`s greetings abound, Carols and cakes to savour; stars and lights surround, Fun, frolic, and the like; its a celebration,   Folks flock together; its time for jubilation. Amidst the shower of gifts,balloons and trees, Where is the baby boy; God`s gift to you and me? Has Jesus been born in your hearts, has He been sought? Is He just a clay doll, in the plastic manger that you bought? Is Jesus at the centre, or hidden by Santa Claus? Is it still about Immanuel, who came down to be with us? Born as a bundle of hope; dies for our sins on the cross, Yet conquering death and our hearts, up from the grave he arose! This is the good news of Christmas; the reason for exultation! Make this season different; let us uphold salvation! Repent, return and receive; invite the Saviour in, Celebrate Christmas anew; for you are born again!

The original intention of language has always been communication and self-expression. Language has evolved considerably throughout history, from sign languages in the ancient ages to the colloquial lingos uttered by the Generation Z. Pondering upon the diversity of languages across the globe is both humbling and exhilarating. It is diversity that makes life on earth both fascinating and riveting. India has always stood tall for unity in diversity. From Kashmir to Kanyakumari, and Gujarat to Arunachal Pradesh, there is no dearth for diversity in culture, complexion, food and language. India ranks fourth in the list of countries with maximum number of indigenous languages, with a whopping number of 453! I have always been proud of this inclusivity and unity in India. And this pride has wilted today, after hearing about the recent events in my alma mater, Bangalore Medical College and Research Institute (BMCRI), Bangalore. For those who are unaware, ...

THE OTHER PERSON... The fire raged; and fumes billowed, Three young Jews; into the furnace were thrown, Engulfed by the flames; but not a hair burnt, The other person in the fire; could freeze the flames! The giant roared; his power unmatched, Warriors shivered; yet a shepherd boy stood  his ground, A stone and a sling; and the mighty giant fell, The other person in the battle; turned the stone a sword! The storm lashed; the vessel shook, Disciples panicked; and struggled to steer safe, The tempest was stilled; and the waters calmed, The other person in the storm; could rebuke the winds! We may be in a fire, a storm or a battle, Beyond our strength, skills and safe ground, Yet take heart; a miracle is at hand, For the other person by our side, Lord Jesus is our help!

FROM THE HEART OF A HURT  HEALER….                                                               “You scoundrels! You killed my boy! You are framing wrong causes and trying to escape. You don’t know who I am or the political influence I have. You wait and see what I will do! You females are not worth to be even prostitutes!” A ten-year-old boy had just died in our Pediatric ICU, where I was the resident. He was brought to us two days back with history of multiple episodes of loose stools and diarrhea. On careful examination he had all features of pesticide(organophosphate) poisoning. There was no history of pesticide consumption despite probing repea...

THE “SISTERHOOD” OF DOCTORS ! It goes without doubt that “sister” is one of the most hated words for a female doctor. Although sister means a female sibling in common English, in medical parlance a sister is synonymous to a nurse. Believe me, we have nothing against nurses. In fact, we are aware that a doctor or a hospital is non-functional without nurses. Well, why then this loathing? Let me explain. For most of the patients, a youngish female medical staff, clad in white, is ALWAYS a sister aka nurse. And a male clad in white, or remotely looking educated, is a doctor. This gender bias against the value of our hard-earned degrees infuriates us. Some patients or their relatives even look down on the “sisters”, being rude to females and respectful to males. As International Nurses Day just went by, I could not help but be reminded of some bittersweet memories. Now they seem silly and funny, but back then my blood boiled. My earliest experience was during my M...

April 24th to April 30th is celebrated as World Immunization Week. Immunization saves so many lives every year and is among world’s most cost-effective health interventions. Yet, there are still nearly 20 million un-vaccinated and under-vaccinated children in the world today! The theme of this year’s campaign is " Protected Together: Vaccines Work! " , and the campaign will celebrate Vaccine Heroes from around the world – from parents and community members to health workers and innovators – who help ensure we are all protected, at all ages, through the power of vaccines. Here is my small contribution to this great worldwide program. It may be a drop in the ocean, but many drops  can create an ocean!  A DESPERATE PLEA Attacked and invaded; my tiny body fails, Paralyzed and choked; my skin pales, I accept defeat; no more can I run, Goodbye Grandpa, Diphtheria has won! I wish I could, just fulfill my dream, Climb up the hills; enjoy a swim...

RADIANT RESURRECTION The passion week has come to a close and it’s the Resurrection Sunday today, better known as Easter. The passion and love of Jesus Christ, which granted mankind the precious gift of salvation, is the theme resonating in the background. There are people who observe and celebrate this week with much reverence. There are some who have made it yet another festival to be commercialized. And there are some like me, who believe that the message of Good Friday and Easter is not something to be illuminated once a year, but something that illuminates your spirit and soul every second of every day. The radiance of divine resurrection irradiates mankind. It`s the message that gave my life a whole new meaning. The following is a poem I wrote sometime back, when this message of Christ`s passion and love filled me up beyond the brim, and overflowed as words. You forsook majesty, came in search of me, Bore my transgressions, crucified to set me free, The agony ...

TH E ENGLISH SKIRMISH “Yes Madam, can you tell me what is wrong with the baby?”   I looked up at the enquirer, wondering who was it that spoke in English. “May I know who you are?”, I asked in the local language. I was at the NICU counselling room of the hospital where I was a resident.   In a government hospital, which catered to the poorer sections of the society, rarely would anyone hear a patient or his relatives talking in English. So rare, that the patient would be referred to as the ‘English speaking patient’ or the ‘English party’ from admission till discharge, albeit with a bit of sarcasm. The speaker was a young man in his twenties, wearing a white t-shirt and jeans, and a sunglass hung from his jeans pocket, just enough to be identified. I sighed. Another one of those t-shirt-jeans-sunglass-English machan!! I knew what was to follow! Do not mistake me, not that talking English was a problem, just that it was very rare and largely not req...