Medicine Girl

This weekend I visited Drushtikon - a photography exhibition.   Now I am not really one of those ‘arty’ kinds or one of those who can appreciate the play of sun and shadows in a photograph. To me a school going kid is a kid, is a kid and will remain just that- a kid. Rarely would I have noticed, if ever,   the mehendi design on his palm. An old man squatting against a wall wouldn’t have merited a second glance earlier. But yesterday the frame urged me to contrast the old fellow’s strong gaze versus his frail physique! The very procession I was once part of per force, en route my native place, was right in my face, albeit in a splendid golden hue that I couldn’t but help resolve to visit Jejuri again. Drushtikon re-introduced me to myself in a hundred different ways. I discovered I could be at peace by myself in the midst of a sea of humanity, with absolute no self-consciousness what so ever. Those who know me would raise a toast to that I am sure. I lear...

In all my 8-9 years of clinical practice I am yet to see a cancer survivor. Maybe my definition of a Survivor is wrong. Or maybe I havent seen enough patients with Cancer around. Or maybe only the ones I knew were suffering- didnt make it. Who knows. In the last year and a half I had the misfortune of following up for three cancer patients -people very close to my heart. Three different people with three drasticaly different approaches to life after their cancers were detected. In their own ways each of them taught me cancer kills. However it only kills the physical you.. it revives dead relationships, it brings to life long forgotten ambitions & dreams, it brings alive your spirit to go for it. So is it that bad after all...? Cancer turned out to be a great teacher as well. Cancer taught me to be humble. The end is closer than it appears. It taught me to be thankful for small things I can do without having to be dependant on others. Cancer taught me to be strong. In the end you ar...