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Doctors~Reel,real and everything in between

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*This piece was written for the 2017 edition of Dhanvantari~the annual magazine of AFMC,Pune.So if you possess a copy and would prefer reading it there,you know what to do.Everyone else,read on*
The red bulb is on.The hero and a bunch of relatives are pacing back and forth in the corridor,worry writ large on their faces.
Next you know,the camera zooms into the Operation Theatre,you see masked men and women in green and an ECG which dramatically turns into a straight line with multiple beeps.The people in green exchange glances,a shake of the head and a cloth comes up on the face of the deceased.
The doctor steps out.The relatives look at him half-expectantly,half I say coz lightning and thunder at the exact moment the deceased breathed his last have already prepared them for the worst. Not to forget,the framed picture that fell off the wall before the accident happened last night.
Now insert any of the following dialogues and you’d have your typical masala Bollywood sequence.
“Bacche ko toh…

Being Thankful

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Even as I gasped and struggled in the waters,memories of me asking mother as to why someone who didn't know swimming would go near a water body flashed through my mind.My tone had been condescending and dismissive of their ‘foolishness’.Mom of course was more worldly wise and besides explaining that thing called ‘fate’ she cautioned me against speaking ill of the dead.
I sat mum for three hours straight even as my friends played the cricket match we had set out to.I had been rescued by a classmate and how I felt for the rest of the day cannot be put in words.That evening,even as my mom said a small prayer choking with tears and hugged me,remorse and thankfulness weren't mere adjectives anymore.I had felt death up close and personal.
One night,11 years later,I was driving all agog with excitement that being my first time on a highway.
Surrounded by fumes from trucks and the dust floating around,I decided to get the visor of my helmet down.It was all smooth till the traffic rem…

The house that Grandpa built

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I don't exactly remember my first brush with 'the house'.All I remember is that I was really 'small' back then.Yes 'small' is the word,not young coz I remember fitting on to the petrol tank of my father's evergreen bike without obstructing his view those days.

However,in no particular order,what I do remember is : numerous sightings of white as father pointed it out to me as we rode past Tamar with unerring regularity every few months,how it seemed enormous like an apparition when I was young to just about accommodating everyone during marriages which served as get-togethers for our extended family, getting down from the State bus on evenings with the courtyard visible from a good half kilometre and Grandpa looking expectantly straining his glasses and me running into the courtyard with shrieks of delight.Childhood indeed was awesome.

My first brush with the house came on a rainy evening when I was all of 10.We were returning from Grandma’s place,a vil…

Tales from internship

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**This piece was written for the 2014 edition of DHANVANTARI,the annual magazine of AFMC,Pune.... So,in case you'd prefer to read it there,please logout and go needle the Xinarians,(ie,the X2 batch of AFMC) for a copy**
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Walking down the road to the Masjid gate,I was beaming and so were my parents..and why not??..Our batch had just had its POP and like scores of proud parents, my parents were happy too..and what better feeling as a son to see your parents smile knowing that you are the reason.
I was escorting them to the Masjid gate where their vehicle was parked.
Engaged in happy banter, I hadn’t seen it coming.
“Jai Hind Saab”. A middle-aged sepoy had struck his DMS boot on the ground and let out a salute coupled with a smile.
My parents had an expression of surprise and to be honest, I remember turning around to see if there was an Officer behind me.
While my parents smiled, it took me a mome…

Pictory..

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"I've been told my interns are very talented" boss said with a broad smile.
 I knew he wanted something out of us..
We had been summoned to our Commanding Officer's Cabin..

"Sir,you've been utterly misguided" I screamed out..Well,just thought of doing so..

He went on to tell us how a certain Organisation comprising of the better halves of the 'Men of valour who guard our seas' was organizing an event where we had to represent our Hospital teaming up with a few others.

We were pushed into it and we accepted it hoping it would be a play/drama coz neither of us can dance for our lives..Not that we had much of a choice,anyway...

Surpise,surprise..It turned out to be a Group dance and I finally got on stage for dancing for the 1st time after class 3...Days of rehearsals ensured we had plenty of fun and of course,made some new friends...

However,the silver lining in this assumed cloud came in the form of another oppurtunity...The same event had another …

Growing up

‘Bishop’s Lodge aa gaya madam’ the conductor bared out his lungs and the bus screeched to a halt.

A tall lady in a blue cotton saree stepped out.She turned around,adjusted her hair,her saree and then spread her arms to collect her munchkin as the conductor handed him over .

Goodbyes ensued and the over-enthusiastic kid even blew kisses to the whole bus sending scores of passengers into peals of laughter, bringing an embarrassed smile to his momma’s face.

Young Aalekh had a spring in his step.
Winter vacations usually had this effect on him. No school,the winter chill,the sunshine and a chance to fly kites all day long..Who wouldn’t be excited.
And to top it all he had the chance to do all this at his Grandfather’s place.

He ran into the street even as the lady struggled with the lugguage. Ten metres or so and he stopped.
That was the longest he had ever gone without momma.
He waited.Mom caught up and he walked alongside like a perfectly obedient kid.

The first establishment on the str…

A letter to your next love

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To put it bluntly,I'm not a man of letters..I'm not even a man of words but I do like to put down what I feel on paper.. You have something now that was oncemy most treasured possession,or so I thought. A bad day,the worst boss and all those hidden fears counted for nothing at the end of the day, just because I knew  that even if all was lost,I would still have had her by my side..
You aren’t her first,perhaps I wasn’t either.

I'm still coming to terms with the fact that there was someone before me who was to her what I believed I was...Someone to whom she might have whispered the'sweet nothings' she whispered to me...Someone whose healing touch she would have believed in when she was down...Someone who'd have been the first to pop up in her mind in times of Joy... MALE EGO...I tell you.
I admit,my mind had wandered more than once,loosening its grip on my heart and allowing it to hope I would be her last.I am not na├»ve, but with enough love,even the most deeply wound…