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One night, when I was about 3 and playing on my Father's belly, I noticed a scar about six inches long like an earthworm with whiskers. And I asked him about it. And his eyes lit up and he held me spellbound with his story of how he had a terrible belly ache and was shifted to the Madras General Hospital overnight and was wheeled into its OT and was operated for Appendicitis.
And I could see how proud he was of his scar...like Angela of her shark:
Much later, my friend NP told me of the son-in-law who was asked his last wish before his appendectomy:
"Please make it seven inches...one more than my mother-in-law's six inches"
said:
"Cataract operation is no longer a surgery...it is a simple Procedure"
When my wife landed at IIT KGP soon after her marriage and found the place good, every prospect pleasing and her man no viler than any other, she decided to live with me there come what may. And there was this mild problem of what to do with her MBBS and MD (Microbiology) degrees.
My IAS B-i-L was kind enough to refer me to one of his colleagues who promised to help, and when I reached his place in Madras, he was not exactly swinging but was as reluctant as RKN's bare-bodied oiled man to confess his helplessness. So, he gave us the eminent advice:
"Why doesn't she practice at her own home and be her own boss, hahn?"
And when I carried a Reco Letter from Prof BCB to his cousin at the Writer's Building who was the WB Health Secretary, sort of, he said:
"I can give her her appointment letter for a tutor's post in any one of the six Medical Colleges outside Calcutta right away...take it or leave it"
We decided to leave it because the nearest was a ghost-town five hours away from KGP and we didn't like to live apart.
So, we wrote an Inland Letter to Dr Kohili, the Chief of our BNR Hospital at KGP, a few km away. And got an immediate appointment. When we walked in, the formidable doc asked her to be seated and said:
"I can give you the appointment letter of Senior House Surgeon right away...take it or leave it"
We decided to leave that too since it involved night duties...you must remember that my wife was forced into medicine like I was into Physics.
Soon thereafter my son was born and we were too busy with him to think.
An year and half later my wife developed terrible stomach pain and we went to Dr Kohili's Qrs to consult him....BNR permitted its doctors to do a bit of private practice at home during their off hours.
He examined her and asked her to get admitted at once since her appendix was to be removed asap. And I asked him how much was his fees and he replied Rs 20 and he put it in his shirt pocket. And before leaving I said:
"Dr, do you recall the day three years back when we went to your Office for an appointment for her in BNR"
He looked at her again and took out the Rs 20 note and pushed it back into my hands:
"Yes, she is Dr Rukmini, no? I thought I saw her somewhere"
The surgery went off rather grandly...I was told it was a 20-minute procedure but she was not wheeled out before an hour and a half and I was sweating profusely with my infant son in my arms...apparently her appendix was not the culprit though it was removed as a future nuisance, but Dr Kohili had to cut and cut and cut till he discovered that a burst ovarian cyst was the root cause...and it was drained and dressed and sutured. The two resembled each other in their symptoms it seems.
And she came out with a 9-inch diagonal scar.
When I was talking about it to Prof IKK at Harry's, the jolly good professor at once removed his shirt and banian and showed me the 12-inch cut Dr Kohili, his close friend, made on his chest till he found out what exactly was wrong with IKK...
Anyway, when my wife recovered fully from her surgery, we went to Dr Kohili's Qrs and gifted him a cute VIP briefcase.
Sometime later when she had to visit Dr Pathak, the famous dentist at KGP, for a tooth extraction he declined to take any fees from a medico saying it was unethical...we gifted his wife a VIP handbag.
Decades later, when the Chief Medical Officer, Dr P, of our campus hospital at IIT KGP retired and set up his practice in his suburbia home, I took my wife there for a persistent calf pain. He knew very well that his patient was an MBBS, MD, but felt too shy to decline his fees of Rs 100...he pocketed it coolly.
A few months later, one night at 9 PM, when I was relaxing in my sofa gathering wool, the door bell rang and my wife announced that a well-groomed lady wants to see me. And I asked her to show her in wondering who it could be. She came and took her seat and said she was the mother of my erstwhile student Ms. P who was in the US and wants to shift from Physics to Medical Physics and wants a dozen recos from me...she brought the forms. Could I please?
I said, sure...the girl was in my M Sc Class and attended all my classes.
And I recalled her as the daughter of Dr P, ex-CMO, mentioned above. And I asked my lady guest who was obviously his wife:
"You came alone...where is Dr P?"
"He is sitting in his car in the car park below"
And then I recalled his intense shyness...and the story that even Vasudev, the DNA Father of Lord Krishna, had to catch the feet of a donkey who went ecstatic and started braying at midnight when Vasudev was trying to secretly smuggle out his infant son.
Just now I wanted to know if this story told me by my Father in a similar context was a family anecdote or authentic. And I Googled for:
Vasudev catches donkey's feet
and found this lead item:
gpsastry.blogspot.com/2011/01/donkeys-feet.html
25 Jan 2011 – In North India catching elders' feet is a routine ritual. ... Legend has it that Vasudev fell prostrate on that Donkey's feet praying to him to press his ...
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Isn't that what you call:
"Short Circuit?"
========================================================================
One night, when I was about 3 and playing on my Father's belly, I noticed a scar about six inches long like an earthworm with whiskers. And I asked him about it. And his eyes lit up and he held me spellbound with his story of how he had a terrible belly ache and was shifted to the Madras General Hospital overnight and was wheeled into its OT and was operated for Appendicitis.
And I could see how proud he was of his scar...like Angela of her shark:
Much later, my friend NP told me of the son-in-law who was asked his last wish before his appendectomy:
"Please make it seven inches...one more than my mother-in-law's six inches"
Nowadays however fashions in surgery have wheeled round the other way. Everyone is proud of their key-hole surgeries:
"O, no! My uterus was removed without any incision at all...by keyhole surgery...and I was asked to get up and go home after ten minutes"
When I said I dare not undergo cataract operation for fear of catching infection and losing my eyesight in both eyes, the good old GP who treated me for my fake triglycerides and cholesterol:
said:
"Cataract operation is no longer a surgery...it is a simple Procedure"
When my wife landed at IIT KGP soon after her marriage and found the place good, every prospect pleasing and her man no viler than any other, she decided to live with me there come what may. And there was this mild problem of what to do with her MBBS and MD (Microbiology) degrees.
My IAS B-i-L was kind enough to refer me to one of his colleagues who promised to help, and when I reached his place in Madras, he was not exactly swinging but was as reluctant as RKN's bare-bodied oiled man to confess his helplessness. So, he gave us the eminent advice:
"Why doesn't she practice at her own home and be her own boss, hahn?"
And when I carried a Reco Letter from Prof BCB to his cousin at the Writer's Building who was the WB Health Secretary, sort of, he said:
"I can give her her appointment letter for a tutor's post in any one of the six Medical Colleges outside Calcutta right away...take it or leave it"
We decided to leave it because the nearest was a ghost-town five hours away from KGP and we didn't like to live apart.
So, we wrote an Inland Letter to Dr Kohili, the Chief of our BNR Hospital at KGP, a few km away. And got an immediate appointment. When we walked in, the formidable doc asked her to be seated and said:
"I can give you the appointment letter of Senior House Surgeon right away...take it or leave it"
We decided to leave that too since it involved night duties...you must remember that my wife was forced into medicine like I was into Physics.
Soon thereafter my son was born and we were too busy with him to think.
An year and half later my wife developed terrible stomach pain and we went to Dr Kohili's Qrs to consult him....BNR permitted its doctors to do a bit of private practice at home during their off hours.
He examined her and asked her to get admitted at once since her appendix was to be removed asap. And I asked him how much was his fees and he replied Rs 20 and he put it in his shirt pocket. And before leaving I said:
"Dr, do you recall the day three years back when we went to your Office for an appointment for her in BNR"
He looked at her again and took out the Rs 20 note and pushed it back into my hands:
"Yes, she is Dr Rukmini, no? I thought I saw her somewhere"
The surgery went off rather grandly...I was told it was a 20-minute procedure but she was not wheeled out before an hour and a half and I was sweating profusely with my infant son in my arms...apparently her appendix was not the culprit though it was removed as a future nuisance, but Dr Kohili had to cut and cut and cut till he discovered that a burst ovarian cyst was the root cause...and it was drained and dressed and sutured. The two resembled each other in their symptoms it seems.
And she came out with a 9-inch diagonal scar.
When I was talking about it to Prof IKK at Harry's, the jolly good professor at once removed his shirt and banian and showed me the 12-inch cut Dr Kohili, his close friend, made on his chest till he found out what exactly was wrong with IKK...
Anyway, when my wife recovered fully from her surgery, we went to Dr Kohili's Qrs and gifted him a cute VIP briefcase.
Sometime later when she had to visit Dr Pathak, the famous dentist at KGP, for a tooth extraction he declined to take any fees from a medico saying it was unethical...we gifted his wife a VIP handbag.
Decades later, when the Chief Medical Officer, Dr P, of our campus hospital at IIT KGP retired and set up his practice in his suburbia home, I took my wife there for a persistent calf pain. He knew very well that his patient was an MBBS, MD, but felt too shy to decline his fees of Rs 100...he pocketed it coolly.
A few months later, one night at 9 PM, when I was relaxing in my sofa gathering wool, the door bell rang and my wife announced that a well-groomed lady wants to see me. And I asked her to show her in wondering who it could be. She came and took her seat and said she was the mother of my erstwhile student Ms. P who was in the US and wants to shift from Physics to Medical Physics and wants a dozen recos from me...she brought the forms. Could I please?
I said, sure...the girl was in my M Sc Class and attended all my classes.
And I recalled her as the daughter of Dr P, ex-CMO, mentioned above. And I asked my lady guest who was obviously his wife:
"You came alone...where is Dr P?"
"He is sitting in his car in the car park below"
And then I recalled his intense shyness...and the story that even Vasudev, the DNA Father of Lord Krishna, had to catch the feet of a donkey who went ecstatic and started braying at midnight when Vasudev was trying to secretly smuggle out his infant son.
Just now I wanted to know if this story told me by my Father in a similar context was a family anecdote or authentic. And I Googled for:
Vasudev catches donkey's feet
and found this lead item:
gpsastry: Donkey's Feet
gpsastry.blogspot.com/2011/01/donkeys-feet.html
25 Jan 2011 – In North India catching elders' feet is a routine ritual. ... Legend has it that Vasudev fell prostrate on that Donkey's feet praying to him to press his ...
***********************************************************************
Isn't that what you call:
"Short Circuit?"
========================================================================
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