STORY OF A RURAL ULTRASOUND CLINIC.

Some of my patients and their relatives complain that I am slow in doing an ultrasound examination in comparison to XYZ. I take it as a compliment as in 2010 in CUSP ( USG conference organised by Mediscan Chennai) Professor Suresh the Indian pioneer told that an obstetrics scan to make it good takes 18 minutes and I usually take almost equal time. In a rural area our everything is limited except availability of patients. Gradually a self made enthusiast tries to add value to his examination. 

Here are some example that I am posting for scrutiny by my expert friends any where around the world. This is humble pleasure of a rural enthusiast. My machine is not a very higher end machine. It is MEDISON S6 by Samsung with facility for colour doppler.    

This photo I examined the normal left ventricular out flow tract.

This is the normal right ventricular out flow tract.

This is same as  photo number 1.

So in addition to the routine examination of four chambers of the heart, the flow through the valves, the opening from right atrium to left atrium we have added the out flow tract in our observation on a regular basis. 

This is a single ton pregnancy with almost two equal lobes of placenta one in fundoanterior and another in fundoposterior area which is not a rare thing. What is rare here is the attachment of umbilical cord not to any of the lobes but in between the two lobes in a membranous fashion. I put a note that during third stage of labour no CCT should be tried. The same is better demonstrated in the picture below with colour doppler at the insertion of the umbilicus.

Sam as above with colour doppler demonstration of the membranous attachment of the cord in between the two lobes of placenta.

Same as above.

Needs no explanation for the diagnosis in a case of recurrent second trimester spontaneous abortion.


Thanks those who took interest to see these photographs. 

The slap of Hanuman Khan. A short story in Madhubana days.

The slap of Hanuman Khan.

A short story in Madhubana days.

Bhimaji the strongest character in Mahabharat, the boon to Mata Kunti from the lord of the element Vayu (wind / air) in Dwapar Yuga (ages fifty per cent loyality to truth) wanted to descend on earth as of today. He moved throughout Akhand Bharatvarsha (the unbroken India). Changed names for places confused him. In some of his favorite places the authorities wanted to lock him up as a wandering foreigner without any visa. Who would trap a soul that to whose father is Wind God! Soon he could judge, which broken piece of land called India where he is allowed to move. India! What a funny name of his Bharata!

He got some solace seeing so many statues of Hanuman the Vayuputra in Tretaya Yuga (the ages of three fourth loyalty to truth). So in a sense Hanuman was his brother since ages. 

Moving on earth gradually brought him the earthly disease of jealousy. He thought why do people worship his brother only.He also deserved some devotees, after all he was also in the side of justice in the great war of Mahabharat, in the camp of Lord Shri Krishna the only lord of the universe. Krishna is same as Rama the Lord of Hanuman in Tretaya. He once again became sad and landed in depression.
 He remembered when he first met imortal Hanuman during their exile in forests. He ordered Hanuman to move his tail that blocked their road away for their smooth passage. Hanuman was too old and asked a help in doing that. Yes the old monkey should be helped and Bhima tried for it with failure! An old monkey’s tail could not be done out of their way by the strongest character of Dwapara yuga. Soon the mystery unfolded and the elder brother since ages embraced him, blessed him not to be too sure about his capability in any circumstances.

 Old vices return sometimes, Bhima felt envious. He knew his brother’s greatness and repute. He wanted a positive solution, after all he had fifty percent allegiance to truth.

He went to Himalayas where his immortal brother earlier. Existing on this earth never diminished his heavenly virtues.

The elder brother smiled and patiently heard Bhima’s dilemma. Bhima wanted some statues of himself to be worshiped. He begged, at least one in India, knowing well, if there was one it soon would become viral in the net and he in near future might be worshiped everywhere like his senior brother.

 Only one recommendation he begged realizing its value in current time in India. Hanuman made him comfortable in all respect including bringing peace to him, that he is known for.

They planned to move to see some statues before Bhima can select the places of his worship, at least five places.

As per the wishes of Hanuman they met ex-railway minister, Sri Mohanlal of Bihar known as the vayuuputra of this Kaliyug (ages of total untruth). He too was praised with forty verses called CHALISA just like the popular Hanuman chalisa.

All three Pawan Putras (sons of air/wind) started moving in disguise as three common men moving places. A disguise is a minor thing for Hanuman.

They reached Madhubana industrial city that was nearer to Kiskinda the native area of Hanuman. Hanuman led them to a village in Kiskinda where a very big statue of him was standing with the club in hand. He didn’t stop there but passed the village from east to reach the western side. At the opposite side of the village a man was waiting them. The man greeted them with a loud cry of, "Jai Shri Ram" that was heard to many who were present on the ghats of the big pond of the village.

 Many stared at him including Mohanlal. The man who seemed to him as a fundamentalist Muslim should utter like this! His Jai Shriram echoed on the walls of the village mosque and the water of the big pond. The Muslims looked at him with utter surprise as he made this cry after several years, the Hindus present there particularly the aged people were more surprised to hear the familiar cry they missed for years. The man known in the whole area of Kishkinda and beyond as Hanuman Khan had rarely come out of the mosque library from the day he was told not to play the character of Hanuman in the Ramleela. Ramleela was traditionaly played on each and every village phase by phase for three long months from September to November. He played the charector of Hanuman in all the stages with all other characters changed at different places.The entire Ramayana from beginning to end was played as chronological serials that pulled crowd from a large area. Many people called it Hanuman Khan’s show and it was as Ramleela as Hanuman leela.

Yes he was originally Rahman Khan and still did the job in the mosque with that name but if one asked about Rahman Khan no Hindu or no Muslim could know who that man was. You ask Hanuman Khan any one far and near not only recognized him but also told a story about him. Ram Leela lost its glory in the area after his services was barred. 

In 1992 the show remained as usual but in 1993 January things changed. Suddenly some people started an organization called Kishkinda action committee. They perceived dispute was not only in Ayodhya but also in Kiskinda. Why should there not be an organization to support and preserve the area of Hanuman, Sugriva, Bali, Jambavan and the whole brigade that helped Rama in the war. No one questioned what they were going to preserve! They planned to build a statue of Hanuman. That was very fine proposal to all. They decided not to call the Muslims to participate in the preparatory meeting. They decided not to beg contribution from them. The Muslims did not like it as their mosque was so nicely built with more contribution from Hindus than Muslims for the reason of simple mathematics that Hindus out numbered Muslims.

 When Hanuman Khan came and participated without invitation, he was told not to do so. More Hindus did not like all these changes in attitude but they raised only weak objections.

The organization served a message to Hanuman Khan addressing him as Rahman that Hanuman’s character was to be played by the main Pahilwan (wrestler) of the new Akhada (wrestling place) they built. The Muslim youth started practicing their weapon play before Maharam in a separate Akhada. Earlier the same place was used for Ramleela and Maharam preparation. A sense of show of strength prevailed which earlier looked benign. They were not allowed to play it in front of Hindu temples and houses, which they were doing earlier.

People of both sides felt too sorry for Hanuman Khan.

The making of Hanuman Khan was not easy. It started accidentally as they once played the act of Hanuman bringing Lava and Kusha on his shoulder for which the director found Rahman as the fit candidate for his shear strength. He played and liked the role so much that a new artist was born. The Ramleela got a new dimension. The director told him to read the Ramayanas. He went on reading. He read local language Ramayan, original Sanskrit Ramayana and he mastered in Tulsidas Ramayan. It became his obsession to read and repeat, to quote here and there, to advise in social gatherings. He without his consciousness mastered the epic. He somehow identified a Hanuman in him each time someone addressed him with that name. He was an artist, his only art was to play as Hanuman. He also became a vegetarian as he felt it to be a sin that a Hanuman eating animal flesh. When he prayed Allah he prayed like Hanuman prayed Rama. His every breath was bringing a Jai Shriram. No body in either community objected it, for others he was the class actor the true Hanuman descending for three months. Why three months he remained a bachelor as he felt it was a qualification to play as Hanuman. People prayed his blessings in their difficulties to which he only smiled and told Jai Shriram, Toba Toba, pray Ram or pray Allah as per the seeker’s faith.

However others said his smile was enough.

And he was told not to play as Hanuman!!!

And he was told not to play Hanuman??

Hanuman was told not to play Hanuman?!

He became silent and silent for ever. He always remained secluded inside the four walls of the library where all the Islamic and Hindu literature were there. He was found reading and reading something. Many thought, he lost his mental balance. When he went to regular prayers he talked to none. The chief priest one day called on him and told to utter Jai Sriram for 108 times holding the beads of rosary of Muslim faith. He felt the man being deprived of his lone and unique faith turned psychotic. The old priest of the temple also called on him and felt sorry for his state of affairs.

And now that forgotten cry of Jai Sriram echoed the whole village and people irrespective of faith soon gathered there.

Mohanlal was too confused and wanted Hanuman in disguise must tell something but he told nothing except Jai Shri Ram in a voice as slow as whisper. Bhima too was confused seeing the funny dresses of people of two types. How people can be different he exclaimed as in his time he had seen people in the side of Dharma (right) and Adharma (wrong) not Hindu or Muslim. He thought, “What is going on this earth that they had cleaned from Adharma". He had not the power of his senior brother to read a situation automatically.

Soon Khan became silent and people too.

People went back to their places. Khan was found to show the way to his house to his three distinguished guests, that was well arranged and vacant.

In the village people discussed the matter.

His childhood friend Shashank was appointed as the Principal of ‘Hanuman Vidya Niketan’ a school managed by Kishkinda action committee. He resigned from his similar job in a DAV school in Gangtok three months back on invitation. He felt very sorry for his friend but could not meet him as his very existence was of lesser significance and could not be solved. He wanted to meet him now. With him a group of people came to Hanuman Khan's residence.

He greeted his friend with a very tender voice of repentance. 

For so many years Khan ignored the whole village and the whole village came to talk to him now! He found the head of the action committee who originally had told him not to wish the character of Hanuman. He found the old director on whose wish he started reading the Hindu epic. There was Baba Amar who was the man with whom he discussed Tulsidas Ramayan, there was the Mullah who advised him to repeat Jai Sriram for 108 times counting the beads, and there was the head of the Maharam committee. There were the old artists playing with him Ram, Sita and all other characters. He found too many fragments which once was one and only one Kishkinda.

For all these days he had no power to tell his side. He was wounded. He ceased to exist as a human. He was in a Tapasya (penance). Now it was broken. Who could now tolerate his rage? He had the power to burn the entire Lanka. His curse could kill any body and his friend was in front. He knew his friend always tried to meet him, to discuss with him but all these days he avoided.

 He went as if holding a club and with all his force he did hit his friend a solid slap with the cry of ‘Jai Shriram’. Sashank instantly fell down on the ground but soon got up as if nothing happened.

Hanuman Khan spoke. "Whom did you ask before joining the school? What good this school did? They made it a place where no Muslim could enter although not officially so. The government school was there the haves Hindus did not send their children to government school the Muslims could not read in the Hanuman Vidya Niketan so they went to other places. The government school now got children from poor class Hindus and Muslims. Now they sent children to Madrasas where teaching was far from being modern. What was this? Was it development? The manner matters. Was it not possible to do a school where there was no school? Was it not possible Muslim people get quality education from Hanuman Vidya Niketan? This was not a matter of Hindu or Muslim it was that a bunch of extreme minded people destroyed the whole social structure built in thousands of years of tolerance and brotherhood. Did any one get the permission of Hanuman or Rama to use their names to fragment the society?

 This was Kishkinda the original land of the evolutionary middle species having the intellect of man and body of a monkey and I Hanuman Khan represents the middle of two religions the bridge to communicate between all possible religious disputes and suddenly a group broke the bridge. Lord Hanuman’s blessings were there so with all these negatives no major problem happened here."

Probably no one had the power to stop him now.
A girl came rushing to announce that a piece of cement was broken from the left side face of the tall statue of Hanuman as a naughty boy pelted the bunch of mangoes that was hanging a little higher!

Meeting dispersed and Hanuman Khan rushed to the spot to feel pity that he did the crime to slap a friend in presence of Lord in disguise.The whole village gathered there to see the mystery as Hanumanji asked Bhimaji and Mohanlal was it the right place to build Bhima’s statue?

Needless to say Bhima lost all his interest to be worshiped,

they soon left the place allowing the people settle their problem as per their wish. 

Institution, person and public.

Institution, person and public.

Many a times when we observe any institution private or public, charitable or business we see certain names dominate its functioning may be for good or bad reasons. In a political party a leader may emerge well ahead of the political ideology and team work. Sometimes it is because of a person’s dedication to the institution and at other time it may be manipulative bossism and dictatorship.

The author and his wife during their preparation for an examination were travelling a stretch of eighty kilometers by train daily up and down to read in the competitive and interactive atmosphere of a medical college. Many people travelled for treatment at the premier institute of the state. They gossiped taking the names of individuals such as Professor x or y whom they presumed as good. I pretended busy reading my materials but actually thought, nobody is talking about the institution and showing confidence on any team on duty instead they would search x or y. If they get him or her it is ok or else they have to visit the doctor’s private clinic.

Not only that, they discussed Sachin, Ganguly, Dravid, Macgrath, Warne, Ponting not Indian or Australian team.

There was election commission before Mr TN Seshan became its chief. It was a standard GK question and we as students were memorizing their names. I may be correct if I say Mr Perishastri was his predecessor but that is with effort. Seshan didn’t pass any new law, he enforced the existing laws unbiased and did more to Indian democracy than any other single individual in any capacity. An illiterate village voter who had a little interest in electioneering also could know the man and something called model code of conduct. He as a person shaped an institution in such a way that his successors can never degrade it to a larger degree even if they are lesser known. Here an individual superseded an institution to institutionalize the required autonomous character of it.

 Indian politics in our life time ie Mrs Indira Gandhi onwards did a see saw movement from individual to collective team work and back to individual and so on. Mrs Gandhi kept her party in total control if we think her and Sri Sanjay Gandhi in civil emergency as a single unit. It is not that she did not do any good. 1971 war, bank nationalization, green revolution, coming back to power in 1980 all as per my small knowledge needed tremendous resolution which she had. But the emergency, the destruction of internal democracy for all time beyond correction, the blue star operation all these was byproduct of person above institution style of functioning. We also saw great team effort during modern time. The success of Jayprakashji movement in 1977, the success of Atalji to complete his tenure leading a coalition, the communists joining Congress to make the best among all the governments after 1977 that is the UPA 1 passing important bills like RTI, Domestic Violence, Right to education, National rural employment guarantee scheme etc all these were team effort not dictatorship. Atalji started the Pradhanmantri Grama Sadak yojana not naming it after any leader suggests how person before institution became less important. Obviously this is the single best government scheme that revolutionized not only rural connectivity but also rural mindset.

Once again a person, our present prime minister has emerged as more important than his party.  His party men and opponents may or may not agree with this. It is more difficult as his party is a more cadre based and organized set up where the original power center and the party head are different. With this also he has emerged ahead. People’s love and hate both are more concentrated for or against him. People imagined unachievable gains from him. Detractors compared him with demon, almost a similar situation that was with Mrs Indira Priyadarshini.

People expect conclusive result like 1971 war victory, complete ache din, other people fear fascism, civil emergency like situation, all having good logic. But Leonel Messi with all his brilliancy is not giving success to Argentina neither Sachin Tendulkar own the world cup till MSDhoni formed the perfect team.

Comparison is always bad, we cannot neutralize the effect of era she worked in an era having no mobile phone, no RTI, no leader like Sakhi Moharaj, or the minister who tells farmers are committing suicide not due to debt and crop failure reasons. More ever there was no social media or philosophy of alternate politics. I mean the situation at that time was not as volatile as now. So probably we hardly require a JP movement. The Delhi assembly election proved how volatile the situation is.

In the alternative politics also the hype was too high people directly compared with MKG even. But they even failed behaving sober before the victory lunch was over. Driving people out of party is never a solution changing the errant is the real leadership. People cannot raise their voice. So there supporters even if claim he is the ultimate leader should remember he is a person not institution. The party philosophy, honesty, working agenda, fulfilling commitment all may be very fine but here we are discussing person or institution and the early indication says it has turned to the direction of a hero not a team.

This is not only happening in national political power struggle also in small spheres. I have seen a friend who as a doctor worked in a place day and night and put his institution above him, consciously did not promote his own private clinic. People got benefit. People didn’t like to create disturbances in the hospital. People appreciated and the work atmosphere became an integration of a person, an institution and public. Not only public but also inside the institution he had a voice to keep internal discipline.

He got transferred to another place and the condition there is different that is beyond the minimum acceptable pro public. It is correctable but he is not motivated. Result is change of adjectives like he is a ferrari doctor, cheat and inefficient. The problem for him is to differentiate between the person in him and the institution in his front. If he speaks for the institution then it needs too much change beyond his capacity and to the discomfort of others. He can never speak for the person and personal gain for which his scope has increased many fold. The person prefers to withdraw himself from the mesh. I wish my friend all success and feel he can.

Whatever may be the discussion an institution is far more important than a person and should be the priority everywhere at all spheres small or big as the person is mortal unlike the institution. 

(To be edited later)         

A very absorbing read.....Memories of Madness stories of 1947.

Memories of Madness stories of 1947.

This is a compilation the novel, “Train to Pakistan” by Sardar Khuswant Singh, many short stories of Sadat Hasan Manto, and “Tamas” by Bhisam Sahni. The reader can feel as if he is seeing the events all described by one author.

I read it a year back.

Singhji was a Sikh who had not to change the border where as Sahni had to come India from Rawalpindi and Mantoji had to search where the wonder land Pakistan was. The commonest sentence written throughout the book is, “ We are running with a bad time”, the same sentence told by an Iqbal Singh, an Iqbal Khan and an Iqbal Sharma, a friend to a friend, a husband to a wife, an officer to a help seeking public. The evil took the upper hand and the people with sense had no option to save the situation.

Never in my life I read anything so close to my heart, so involved, I felt I am reading the once banned book, “Freedom at midnight” that I read during my final MBBS exam in 1991 at a stretch without sleeping, bathing, eating or going out of my hostel room. This was an extension that I read in a very slow pace after finishing Train to… in a jet speed.

I remember I was so involved that as my wife wanted me to visit Chhatrabazar vegetable market I felt how insensible a woman can be, sending the husband outside to a burning city. She could judge something terrible I felt and I explained.

Khuswantji’s first novel is a masterpiece that presents how a dacoit at last takes the possession of the belongings of the Muslims that the normal villagers felt shame and crime to keep with human feeling of compassion to the evacuated people. The Sikh hero knowing well that her Muslim love bird who permanently is shifting to Pakistan with their baby in womb does the supreme sacrifice to save not only her but a train load of human being evacuated to Pakistan whom the murderers from this side had planned a massacre .

In Manto’s stories all the human emotions are effortlessly crafted. He had exposed, it was nothing to do with religion but simply who can exploit whom with terrible mistakes too.

A grown up girl the only survivor of a family got separated at the last stop inside India where as the father escaped. After some months in a bilateral scheme volunteers from each country went to collect the missing people if found to unite the respective families. The Pakistani youth collected this girl……..

When the father asked he got the same answer that they were searching. The father got sick and was taken to hospital where he found the girl in a condition no father ever would like to see a daughter. She had saved herself in the perceived land of enemies but Mohamad Alli Jinnha’s youth brigade in the promised wonder land of Pakistan exploited the situation with masculine madness for a period of time till destroying her completely.

In another story a Muslim girl staying in a Hindu dominated area exchanged her place with a Hindu girl, her friend who was staying in a Muslim dominated area. They thought this should help both of them. Their guardians apparently did not know it. One family head seeing the destruction of his family brought out a weapon and went run amok. Why should he not take the revenge of the lost chastity of he own daughter and so he raped the place exchanged girl in the other locality too late to identify she was none other than the daughter.

And the ultimate story Toba Tek Singh the story of the lunatic who in an exchange program where the mad people were also sent as per their religion. At Wagha no force could push or pull the unique lunatic from Pakistan to India who for last 21 years never laid down from his standing posture in the asylum of Lahore, dropped dead in no man’s land.

 The same Wagha  I visited in March 2014 to see the anti Pakistani and anti India slogans, the phooed patriotism of the same people who loot their own respective countries in many roles. I felt the gates are nothing but knives pushed in my mother’s chest. No one should broker patriotism; religion is sub patriotism it changed many a time in history. The land southern to the great mountain wall Himalayas including the mountains was and one day will again be one country. 

Tamas  the novel of Sahni has dissected the minute anatomy of a riot. His Kendra Sahitya academy award winning novel exposed how the wicked mind of a Muslim hired a Chamar to kill a pig and hired a sweeper to take it to throw in front of a Mosque to start a riot. It is slow but clinical detail of what exactly happens during a riot.

A Sikh old couple whose daughter was married and teen son was at a distant place was assured by the Muslim village headman that nothing would happen to him or his small grocery shop. Things changed rapidly, the headman was ashamed of meeting him directly but uttered to himself in a loud enough voice so that his friend could listen that very bad time had arrived and he should control his own villagers but murderers were coming from outside. He walked to and fro to be sure his buddy whom he was unable to face really heard him and left the place to safe hide out.

 So humanity was intact.

The old man too possessive about his double barrel gun went out with his wife…………. They reached a unknown village and how should a Punjabi differentiate between a Sikh Punjabi rural house from a Muslim Punjabi rural house hence begged shelter in a Muslim’s house where only a mother in law and a daughter in law were present with the father son duo had gone out to loot. That family was the chief organizer of crime in the local area. The mother in law sheltered the old couple taking custody of the gun. The Sikh begged the gun without the bullet but the lady did not do that as she knew this would create instant rage in her husband and son when they returned with the loot.

The couple stayed in the upper storey of the mud house.

The males returned with the loot of the same Sikh’s trunk and started breaking the lock with a hammer as if the hammer was on the old man himself. He broke silence to tell please open it with the key that was with him. He was not worried for the wealth but the manner of the burglars.

And what must have happened discovering them there ……

The lady not only drove them out in the early night but also gave back the gun. Imagine the confidence of the lady on the human who had all chance to shoot back her son and husband.

The Sikh’s son somewhere was captured by a group of Muslims who offered Him Islam with intake of a piece of sweet meat obviously beef or else being stoned to death. He resisted to a point where he could not anymore. What I felt as if I was witnessing my son in that position and telling him taking a piece of meat wass not Islam and to save a son’s life was the first priority of a father. I was about to tell it loud when he took it.

 Suddenly the foes turned friends.

My mind suddenly saw a new dimension… At least there was a scope to save the life of a Hindu or a Sikh from the hands of Muslim murderers but what was the scope of a Muslim to save his life from the Hindu murderers. I did not know how to react, to cry or to shy or to be happy for the Sikh teen saved.

A Hindu girl was kidnapped by her one sided Muslim lover and kept unhurt till a point she understood there was no way a Hanuman would reach with Rama’s news and she started reciprocating as a beloved.  Tragedy of all forms, rumor of all forms, commonest rumor was, they had loaded there Mosques, Gurudwaras, temples with weapons and may attack at any point. The sense of insecurity, the poison of religious fundamentalism became the lord of the ring of riots.

A Muslim noble with his four wheeler vehicle went through the length and breadth of the Muslim dominated town to collect his Hindu and Sikh friends to save their life and property. He actually did save many. When he went with the key of the locker to bring back the valuable jewelry of a rich Hindu friend he found the servant of the family still guarding the house with little care to his own life. He brought the box safely but without any reason killed the servant in seclusion that was not going to decrease his nobleness vis a vis doing a religious duty to kill a person from another religion who was poor, helpless and defenseless.

 What a cruel joke.

 The bigger people could call all party all religion meetings of peace at the cost of lives of common.

 This what riots do everywhere around the world.

A Hindu extremist organization trained the youth to kill animals so that they should not fear killing human. The devotional songs of vakti in temples changed to songs of bravery.

A trained youth wanted to kill a Muslim as a duty. He followed an old man with impaired vision, a local vendor of eateries. The old man thought this boy out of fear is following him in the Muslim dominated area and told him, “Don’t worry son nothing would happen to you as long as I am here. All know me no one can harm you, but do not go beyond certain point where there is danger.” He felt he should help this son of the soil but the boy out of the call of his bravery and duty stabbed the man with impaired vision. The man very casually told, "Son ! probably you killed me, we are running through a very bad time".

Big group of Sikh ladies went in a line and jumped in to a well to save their shame which was completely based on rumor.
  

A cut throat business rival, merchants of cloth evacuates the enemies wire house and kept all in safe custody before the criminals torched the area and later on returned him back everything.

Tamas’ is not a fiction it is based on Rawalpindi riot.
   

A few monthS back I was reading my Guruji’s Odia novel, “PRAVANJANA”, meaning ‘cyclone’ which is also the English novel of him there also he describes a scene from Kolkata riot in a similar manner though it is a small peripheral part of the novel.

Going back to Mantoji, he describes three non Muslim friends persuading a rich Muslim not to leave Mumbai his own city to Karachi where he has nothing but he leaves. His reason was something different he wants not to put his friendship in testing time and it is better for him to leave than to put his friends in trouble trying or not trying to save him.

May be thousands of pages are written and the process goes on including this piece from me as the insecurity is not gone. The extreme feelings and speeches and writing that hurt others are on an increase. I am a Hindu not by choice neither my Muslim or Christian friend are following their religion by choice. We are attaching ourselves to our faiths knowing too little about Gita or Quran or Bible or Guru Granth Sahib. My atheist friend is without this baggage and there is no need to read a book to know we can never take groundnuts in front of a kid without offering him a few nuts. We are powered enough to judge right or wrong. These religions are to guide and refine our conscience not to create hatred. Wars happened in 1984, in 2002.

Every riot is organized and every terror attack has a master mind.

 It is shameful affair to discriminate someone because of his faith, skin color, caste or language those who are constantly busy with these activities are working for their own agenda.   


Dedicated to Odia poet Salabega the son of a Brahmin mother and Muslim father and Odia king Hafiz Kader @ Ramchandra Dev the central character of "NILASHAILA". 

Prize A short story in Hati series.

Prize

A short story in Hati series.

It was a phone call from the human resources wing of the CDMO office with some instruction to Dr Hati that I asked him to reveal. He without his customary laughter ha ha ha, simply replied about his selection for the state prize for quality work in female sterilization operation as the third best.

I congratulated him for which he returned thanks in a depressing but thoughtful manner.

I stressed. What is the matter you do not look happy! This is not the first time he was getting the award; in the previous edition two years back when such an award giving chapter started for various categories on world population day. That time he was joyful with plenty of laughters. That year too he got it in quality section and was in second position.

Oh! Uhderstood, you are seeing it as a demotion from second to third position so feel frustrated!

Now he smiled.

Not that way Senapati, the CDMO office served a summon not an invitation. Actually they are just post offices and directing the summon rather warrant issued by the government. They insist to go without any fail. They are telling in this manner as if they are not sure whether the awardee would comply or not. There is reason behind it.

I did not like Dr Hati’s approach, why he sees the negatives too often. So I told him to go and receive the award as it was a pride issue for the block CHC as well as the district.

Ha ha ha laughed Hati and came to his original style.

“You know Senapati, how excited I got receiving the call in the last edition. I got the news only one day before and was imidiately ready without insisting official conveyance. I felt it to be recognition to long years of service. I learnt the real story in the next day.”

Yes he came to his original inflated megalomanic state to narrate his own experience and the way he analysed it.

Last time he asked the authority to provide vehicle which the office denied saying it to be a personal prize not that of the block CHC. He was so joyful that he took it as congratulatory words that the government wanted to glorify him personally. He had no objection to take his own vehicle burning a single ton INR as fuel and closing his official and private work for a day. His manager accompanied him who can listen to his non stop commentary about his own dedicated work in last eighteen years. He never hesitates to utter self praising words and makes sure someone listening it.

He was a few minutes delayed on the way and when he reached Jaydev Bhawan the program was starting with lightening of candles by dignitaries. The big auditorium was fully packed to make him sure it was a great occasion. He found a known face by whose side a chair was empty. The other one was a little senior who also had a prize for another category. He felt very happy to share comradory words with him.

“Many people have come”, Dr Hati casually told the other one. He in a slow voice replied all these are paramedical students from several such private institutions of the state capital. Their principals were insisted to bring all their students with their own cost. To remain in favour they obliged. Hati once again looked at different angles and found young students with mostly similar but a little different uniforms occupying the whole auditorium. This must have pleased the honourable Health minister and the department to show their chief minister the success of the celebration of population day. Hati also felt very happy that these students, three quarter of them being future mothers should be aware of increasing world population and take pledges right from this young age to control it in various ways.

There was prize for each of the methods and sub methods.

All the candles were lighted by as many as VIPs these could accommodate as per their own numbers. The chief minister seemed happy with a little annoyance for the long procedures. Some one was inventing new words to fill in the blank time arising with this delay. It was not that irritating as the person was a known actress of Odia Cinema and serial industry though was not the lead heroine.

In the era of professionalism, things have changed whispered Hati’s friend. They have hired an event management group that officially won the tender. They are doing all these management to decorate the program with full of success.

 Hati felt the other one had all the up dates and now believed whatever he told.

The program slowly gained its pace. The principal secretary started his well prepared informative speech loaded with all the achievements of the government and a few short falls. He congratulated the award winners.  Hati felt as if he personally was being praised. He also told about certain shortfalls that his department was going to sort out in future. His each sentence was provoking positive thought in Hati’s mind and he was resolving to newer ideas with more work.

The minister started his speech comparing with earlier unfortunate situation in government hospitals and how they made it so bright. He forgot to congratulate the awardees.

Hati and his friends were comparing the situation described by him and the reality they were facing in the field. He was not sure the reason of his irritation, because of the minister’s hypocratic statements or because he forgot to congratulate the winners. He had not a scope to laugh ha ha ha which he usually did in all such confusing situations. His facial expression changed to a situation of taking a piece of raw unprocessed tamarind.

Oh chief minister was so good; he finished within less than two minutes. He distributed the awards to the first category and left the place.

Hati thought the winners are a few but there were so many categories and three in each category. His friend’s turn came first. Hati clicked his close up photographs as he received the awards, in his own camera. Actually he was making the perfect setting so that the friend can do it when he himself received the prize.

When his friend returned Hati showed him the photographs. He was delighted as he had not done personal arrangements for this. Hati explained him the settings.

No body was serious after the Chief Minister left the place and proceeding continued just to finish a process that had started but was with no further interest. Hati felt like that as his turn was not coming. When his category award for the first prize was called he re explained his friend to take clicks and left the chair.

He climbed the steps with pride as he heard the organizer telling the photographer no need of taking any more photographs to avoid delay as people are posing. He smiled thinking; go to hale who cares yor photos in today’s era of gadgets.

He received the award and was looking to his friend who was taking the snaps.

He returned and tried to see the photographs. What happened, the friend could not explain but there was not a single successful click.

The program took another half an hour. Hati’s hunger made him remember that he had not taken his breakfast.

Someone was distributing packed lunch that Hati and his friend presumed to be for the prize winners and they rushed to that area. The distributer cleared away their begging hands telling those packets were not for them. They did not know who the beneficiaries were. The man told not being sure, pointing a direction where packets were available. The distributer sympathized seeing the Jariwork gamuchhas placed on their neck to state they got awrds.

They once again did a futile attempt to search a packet of lunch but with reservation and with embarrasement.

Some more known doctors were seen and after due interaction all including his friend left on there own way. Hati saw them looking odd with the prizes ie a boquet , a small plastic shield, a certificate and the Jariwork gamuchha ( not a shawl) all these without a carrybag was difficult to carry which they were doing.

Hati wanted to throw the boquet but did not find a dustbin. When he found one he changed his mind not to do that. He put everything on that gamuchha and tied it as a lot to carry with pride.

His enthusiasim was gone. For him now it was a calculation, profit and loss.

Another friend Rakesh appeared from behind, he was a school friend and happened to be the event manager of that ceremony.

Hati was very happy to see him and told, “What was the need of this award? I spent a thousand rupees as fuel, lost a day’s work of a wedness day the day I see about hundred pregnant mothers in govt hospital who come from areas as far as fifty kilometers only to record blood pressure, weight and for reassurance that the fetus is safe. Is it good? What is the benefit?”

Rakesh joked, “Should I stop my business?”

 It was a big sum, looks fair to the open but with big percentage … he stopped his mouth with his finger. Then added, many award ceremonies were invented for some hidden reason.

Enen en !

Hati remembered how he was invited for awards like, “ Best citizen award, Bharat Gourav and some more” which he did not attend as the organizers swiftly demanded a token amount as delegation fee  and he felt this is nonsense to call yourself best citizen without a reason. Moreever he had to go to New Delhi for all these hypocracy.

“So dear Senapati, I am not going to attend the function this year as this is again is planned on a wedness day and this being the antenatal day as well as immunization day there is a statutary rule that no other function should coincide this day. The law makers are breaking the law.”

But why should not you laugh, I reminded him to which he laughed at the loudest of a typical Hati, ha ha ha.