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About rajuwilk

I am a writer by passion but a surgeon by profession.

The art of stabbing! Back stabbing excluded. 

In my 35 odd years of practice as a surgeon, I have treated many cases of stabbing. I have observed a distinct pattern in these cases. Which could be categorized into two types.
1. The intention of the stabber is only to frighten the victim and not kill him.
2. The stabber intents are homicidal and he makes sure that he delivers a potentially mortal blow.
Rewind to 1985, I was working in a Mission Hospital as a junior doctor. Wet behind the ear plain MBBS. A patient presented in the out patient department with a painful swelling in the right buttock. His story was that on Holi day (when most people are inebriated or stoned or both) he got into an altercation with a stranger. This progressed into a fisticuffs. He was getting the upper hand until the opponent pulled out an equalizer, a gupti. A gupti is a traditional Indian dagger, it has a long and slender blade which tapers to a sharp point. It’s akin to the Italian stiletto and it is normally carried in a wooden sheath disguising it as a swagger stick or a walking stick. Now the tables were turned in favor of the opponent and my patient decided to beat a hasty retreat. Perhaps recalling the old adage, “He who fights and runs away lives to fight another day!” His opponent chased him and managed to stick a length of the gupti into the victim’s retreating left buttock before giving up the chase. The only obvious external injury was a small puncture wound on his left buttock. This was sutured by a friendly neighborhood general practitioner. The next day he had pain which radiating down on the back of the left leg and also a swelling around the sutured area which was growing in size. When the pain became intolerable he decided to visit the Mission Hospital for a second opinion.

Now at that time I was a mere MBBS with limited experience, I showed the case to the Surgeon. He noticed that the swelling was pulsating and on listening with his stethoscope over the swelling he could hear the sound of turbulent flow of blood which is called a bruit. The diagnosis was a pseudo aneurysm as a result bleeding in the depth of the buttock from a punctured large blood vessel. An aneurysm is an abnormal dilatation of a blood vessel, whereas a pseudo aneurysm mimics an aneurysm, but it’s as a result of injury to the wall of a vessel. Blood flows out into the surrounding tissue and creates a false dilation of the vessel. In retrospect I have to doff my hat off for the surgeon for being observant and making an accurate diagnosis, in absence of any diagnostic tools. Those were the days when an x-ray was the only diagnostic tool. The case could have been misdiagnosed as an abcess as a result of infection from the puncture wound. In which case the treatment is an incision and drainage. Incising over the pseudo aneurysm would have resulted in a torrential haemorrhage and even death due to exsanguination. The surgeon had recently completed his degree and was enthusiastic. He planned exploring and staunching the bleed.

The case was posted for surgery. An incision along the iliac crest or the border of the bone shaping the buttock and divided gluteal muscles or the muscles comprising the buttock. A whole lot of clots were encountered which were cleared. Then torrential bleeding from a blood vessel lying deep to the bone was encountered. The gupti had managed to pierce the three gluteal muscles in the inner and inferior quadrant and injured a vessel emerging from the sciatic notch, a recess in the pelvic bone through which blood vessels and nerves emerge. Try as we could but we were unable to catch the bleeder as it retracted behind the sciatic notch. Meanwhile the patient went into shock due to loss of blood. The assistance of a senior surgeon was sought, the senior decided to approach the bleed from the abdomen. So the gluteal region was packed and the patient repositioned and the lower abdomen opened. There the bleeder was caught just near the sciatic nerve, a main motor nerve supplying the leg and tied. It was far from an easy job but in the end the patient survived to fight another day with two surgical scars, one on his buttock and the other on his abdomen. He also had a foot drop, or a weakness in the foot due to some fibres of the sciatic nerve getting caught in the ligature. A small price to pay. Quoting Bailey and Love, “A living problem is better than a dead cert.”

Looking back it doesn’t seem like the attacker intended to kill the victim, he chose a well padded area which in most circumstances would have required nothing more then stitches and maximum hit the iliac bone. However he struck just a little lower and that made the difference.

Fast forward to 15th August 1990, when I was doing my MS in Ludhiana. We had just finished our ward rounds and were enjoying a post round chai and charcha in the tea shop on the campus. Then suddenly all the hell broke loose! All the surgical residents, super speciality residents and consultants were paged to the casualty. This is normally happens when there is a mass casualty, where everyone is paged. When we reached the casualty we discovered it was a ‘Tale of two Technicians’. One technician was a microbiology technician and the other an ECG technician. The microbiology technician was going around with the ECG technician’s sister who was a nursing staff in the hospital. But when it came to tying the knot, the microbiology technician backed out. The sister attempted suicide unsuccessfully by overdosing with diazepam, a sleeping pill. Only to wake up after a prolonged sleep into this world. The ECG technician swore vengeance and chose today as both were on call. He accosted the microbiology technician in the hospital corridor and some verbal altercation took place. Then he produced a knife and stabbed him only once but accurately just below the left nipple at the 4th inter costal space. Being an ECG technician he was aware that the apex of heart was at that point. More accurately the left ventricle of the heart which pumps the blood through the body. Luckily for the microbiology technician it happened in the hospital premises and there were onlookers who immediately brought him to the casualty, which was just a stones throw away. And since it was morning most residents and consultants were available as they were conducting their morning rounds. Providentially the Professor of Cardiothoracic Surgery was there in the casualty. He immediately took a scalpel made an incision through the left 4th intercostal space, ask two of us to retract the ribs while he sucked out all the blood and clots. The lung collapsed and after sucking the blood the heart could be seen spurting blood. He took a single stitch with catgut on the puncture and controlled the bleeding. This gave us all a breather and we rushed the patient to the operative theatre for definitive surgery.
A week and 22 blood transfusions later the patient was back on his feet, being literally snatched from the jaws of death. The ECG technician was absconding and when the law finally caught up with him he was let out on bail as the case was of a grievous injury and not homicide. Last heard he was plying his trade in a corporate hospital in Delhi. As an ECG technician of course and not an assassin.
This attacker had all the intentions of killing the victim with a stab of such surgical precision. But it was not his time!
Fast forward again to 2011, my mother had established a residential charitable school for the rehabilitation of street children. There were two brothers studying there whose father was a professional burglar. He was also physically abusive to his wife. The wife appealed to my mother to protect her against the violence. My mother feeling sorry for her allowed her to stay in our house. All of a sudden we noticed things beginning to disappear from the house. The pump of the dessert cooler and other small things around the house. The husband would also intermittently appear at our gate and would meet his wife. She would refuse to return with him.
We have an old chowkidar or watchman, he has been with us for many years and functions more as a scarecrow rather than a serious deterrent. But as a person he is a good so we forgive the times he comes drunk. Life is difficult for these people after all they hold two jobs one in the day time as a construction worker and night as a watchman. He is also very fond of animals so our Labrador was always at his side. He used to feed all the strays in the locality so they were hanging around the gate. There was a stray dog couple who he was very fond of and even named them Maruti and Madhuri. They were inseparable one brown and the other black. They could be seen constantly playing with each other. People say that watchmen feed the strays so that they bark and warn them about intrusions.
One July evening at around 9 pm I heard a ruckus at the gate and I stepped out into the verandah to investigate. I was horrified to see our chowkidar getting mercilessly stabbed by the lady’s husband. To escape from the assailant the chowkidar ran to the lawn in front of the the verandah. The assailant chased him. I could not remain a mute spectator and I did a very dangerous thing, I vaulted over the railing of the verandah and landed in between the two. He could have very easily stabbed me but he didn’t, he backed off. Trying to reason as to why I got spared, maybe because of my superior size or because of my superior placement in life. He presumed he could get away by stabbing a humble chowkidar but stabbing me may have had larger repercussions. So he ran to the back of the house and tried to escape by climbing the tree at the back. I followed him to the back and also tried to search for a suitable weapon, even a stick would do. I appreciate the chowkidar who also came behind me and backed me up despite being injured. The husband after climbing the tree discovered it’s a long jump over the wall and descended, he had his head shaven and a bandana tied on his head. He was hissing like an animal and had blood shot eyes, possibly stoned. I wisely decided to give him space to run out from the gate rather than trying to tackle him. Now I could concentrate on the Chowkidar’s injuries, surprisingly they were only slashes around the neck. I took him to one of the hospitals I am attached and sutured them under local anaesthesia. We then went to the Police station and filed an FIR. The police caught the husband and incarcerated him for a day or two then let him go. The stabbing was intended to scare us and it had it’s intended effect. We decided it was wise to tell the lady to return to her village. Her sons finished school and the school helped the younger boy get trained as an AC technician. He is employed and earning and his mother lives with him. Recently he had kidney stones and I arranged his surgery. As for the father they don’t where he is, he could be dead. The Chowkidar is still with us and immediately after this incident I could hear him scolding the dogs for not coming to his aid or barking and remaining mute spectators.

Raula na pa! 

​’Raula na pa!’ 

This is a true story.  When I was doing my residency in Ludhiana, Punjab we used to get a lot of emergency in the Casualty. Invariably there would be a lot of confusion with the relatives of the patient all talking together or with each other.  The nursing staff or the attender would admonish them with with, “Raula na pa!”  Meaning don’t create noise or confusion.  
As surgical residents we were entrusted the duty of Casualty Medical Officer by rotation, and our basic job was to give first aid and decide which patient is to be referred to which speciality. 
One day a case of head injury was brought to the casualty accompanying him was a whole lot of noisy relatives. A Sardar was the self appointed spokesman of the group and approached my desk.  I asked him “Daaso!” (tell me!).  His reply was “Daktar Sahabb  assi Malerkotla toh leke aye si, Sar toh saat lagya si.” (We are bringing the patient from Malerkotla and he has had a head injury). 
Referring to Neurosurgery was a no brainer, so I immediately got the Neurosurgery unit paged. When the resident from Neurosurgery arrived he was immediately surrounded by over eager relatives wanting to show their concern. The Neurosurgery resident after examining the patient came to my desk to give some instructions.  The relatives along with the spokesman came behind him and began interjecting and preventing me understanding the resident’s instructions. Mildly annoyed I turned to the spokesman Sardarji and said “Sardarji!  Laura na pa!” (Sardarji don’t show your dick!).  It was a slip of the tongue with an interchanging of syllables. I realized my mistake immediately but words are like arrows from a bow, once shot cannot be retracted. The Neurosurgical resident could barely suppress his mirth and stated the obvious “Looks like a slip of the tongue!” The relatives were stunned speechless, and unwittingly my words had the desired effect. The self appointed spokesman stared at me quizzically and maybe realizing Punjabi is not my forte said “Haanji!”

Running to remain in the same place! 

“Now, here, you see, it takes all the running you can do, to keep in the same place. If you want to get somewhere else, you must run at least twice as fast as that!”

The Red Queen to Alice in Lewis Carroll’s Alice Through the Looking Glass

Nothing remains still, everything is in constant motion. In physics a still object is referred to as having ‘zero relative motion’, this is in relation to the observer, but both the object and the observer are moving with the rotation of the earth which is in orbit around the sun which  is moving around the galactic core and the galaxy moving towards it’s inevitable collision with the Andromeda Galaxy. So to remain in exactly the same place in time space we would have to run against the rotation of the earth and the orbit around the sun, galactic core and movement of the galaxy.

We can never rest on our laurels and have to constantly work towards remaining in the same position or in other words maintaining status quo. 

 Sport’s person know that very well and have to constantly work to maintain there ranking or position in a team. A company like Apple constantly has to innovate and invent just to maintain its place as a market leader. Nokia which until few years ago was a market leader no longer exists. Research in motion ‘RIM’ the makers of Blackberry are facing a similar fate. Even Apple was in the doldrums in the 90s until Steve Jobs was reinstated and steered it back. In our own fields we are constantly working to remain relevant. As a Doctor I need to keep abreast with new developments or become the innovator of one . This holds true in all professions. We have to work to maintain our physical possession against the ravages of time. It can be our homes or cars or our own physical self which we subject to gruelling exercises and Plastic procedures in hopes that we may negate the effect of time. Juan Ponce de Leon a Spanish Conquistador was believed to be searching for the ‘fountain of youth’, the waters of which would negate all the effects of time. Needless to add, he never found one otherwise our lives would be so simple, just drink and bathe regularly in the waters of the fountain of youth and voila you will appear the same as you did as when you were in your twenties. The question which begs to be asked is, how do you ensure that you will be back to your twenties? It could theoretically make you a neonate or worse back to the fetal stage!

So we are constantly running just to maintain status quo, if we want to rise beyond status quo we need to run twice as fast! However there is the Law of Diminishing returns which “When one input in a production unit is increased while the others remains the same results in a decrease in the output. An example for this is on an assembly line if you increase the number of people without increasing the number of pieces to be assembled you get a decreased production as now these people will get in each others way while waiting for a piece to assemble. All those exercising in a gym regularly realise that soon they reach a plateau where the amount of exercise maintains there weight and fitness at the same level. In order for more gains it would not be a simple case of increased exercise but also diet and variations in the type of exercise.

Don’t we all dream of just vegetating and doing nothing! Alas that is impossible! We can never be still. 

The dog with a ‘gay tail’!

This dates back to the seventies some family friends of ours had adopted a puppy found on the streets. Despite being of questionable parentage the puppy displayed evidence of German Shepherd ancestry, with a black and golden coat. When I went to see the puppy I was puzzled because a weight had been tied to the middle of it’s tail forcing it to remain down. Out of curiosity I asked Aunty who was a dog lover what was the purpose of the weights? She replied “Beta he has a gay tail and weights are to correct that.” In those days the word ‘Gay’ was associated with gaiety, laughter and fun. For the life of me I couldn’t figure out how the dog’s tail had anything to do with those qualities. After joining CMC and attending Bob Bullards Physiology lectures, he would sometimes draw a stick figure of a ‘happy dog’ with it’s tail in the air and then a sad dog whose tail pointed downwards. Maybe that was the gay tail indicating a happy and gay dog!

Then came the eighties with the advent of a mysterious disease affecting homosexual men, resulting in a suppression of the immune system was loosely described as Gay Related Immunodeficiency (GRID). The word ‘Gay’ took on a totally different connotation. Using the adjective ‘gay’ had a different meaning now. The Men’s Hostel inmates were given a questionnaire where one of the questions were “Do you enjoy yourself in gay parties?” This brought about a lot of tittering and clarifications were sought from the source of the questionnaire, K.S. Jacob who had just joined Psychiatry as a resident. He just smiled and left it unsaid, but we presumed it was gay as in gaiety.

The earlier slangs for homosexuals were faggot, homo, Queen, weird and the less known ‘grey cat’. The Men’s Hostel in their initiation programme used to refer to the freshers as fags which of course was an abbreviation of faggot. These obviously were derogatory words may not have been acceptable to the homosexual community. The word gay has it’s origin from old French ‘gai’, which meant joyful, mirth full,  carefree, colourful and showy.  In the 19th century it implied a prostitute in females or a man who had multiple sexual partners, though the original definition was still in vogue. Then in 1920 it implied a homosexual male,  by 1950 the gay community felt that homosexual was too clinical a term implying a disorder and actively pushed for being called gay.  

A lesser known fact that even the Indian Gay community not to be left behind gave themselves the name ‘Khush’ meaning happy, though it never caught on. 

Going back to the dog’s tail, he grew to be huge and his tail now came gracefully down with an upward curve at the tip. You could feel an angulation at segments of the vertebrae at the root where the weight forced it’s direction downwards. This was a Eureka moment for me. Was it called ‘gay tail’ because it pointed upwards exposing the anal orifice? 

However now I am much wiser and a Google search has revealed  that the word ‘gay tail’ used to describe an skyward pointing tail in a dog predates homosexual references. It is because of the resemblance of the tail to a flag being waved gaily and not an exposed anal orifice. 

We all live and learn. So like man’s  best friend I retreat with my tail placed firmly between my legs.

Glossary of Common Terms used in CMC circa 1978-1984

I thought you may find this interesting as it consists of a lot of

Tamil words, of a lot unparliamentary!

Glossary of Common Terms used in CMC circa 1978-1984

Before you read I have to give the customary statutory warning. Some
of you may find the contents offensive, in which case please do not read further. The Words are fairly earthy and not all of you would appreciate it. However to do justice to a glossary all words have to be included.

Dear Friends,
Another memory to be shared with you guys. Every great institution has its own campus language and so does CMC.
These days the superhit song is ‘Why this kolaveri di’ is on every channel and is supposed to be in Tamlish. A mixture of Tamil and English. This song whether good or bad is debatable but definitely unusual and the words gave me a feeling of Déjà vu. We also used a mixture of English mixed with some Tamil and occasionally other words which conveyed our meaning more effectively than any other language did. Some of these words are fairly earthy and readers discretion is advised. These word have a slum origin (Men’s Hostel slums) which may explain their earthiness. The list includes as many as I can remember however all are free to add to this glossary.

Maccha: A very commonly used word which in Tamil means brother-in-law. Similar to the Hindi Saala which means the same. However few realize in Hindi there could be a darker connotation on the lines of ‘I slept with your sister’. However Maccha was used widely it could be before a sentence, “Maccha! Did you hear the new?” or at the end of a sentence,  “Got Muddied! Macchaaa!” It was also sometimes used to describe a Tamil son of the soil. If you notice Alfie still refers to himself as Maccha!

Muddi:- This was used to when one got finished either in an exam or otherwise. I could be a ‘muddi’ scene as apposed to a ‘cool scene’.
Cool Scene:- This was used to indicate that the going was good. So a party could be a ‘cool scene’.

Ocee:- This was used to indicate something was free and without cost. This apparently had it’s origin from the colonial days. The East India Company had it’s mail stamped OCS on company service and were delivered free of cost.

Zap:- When asked a question in an exam which we had no idea of then we would say ‘I was zapped’. There is a lot of regional variations to the term zap, I remember a junior Alok Ranjan who had a thick Bihari accent on being asked how his physio pracs went he replied “Jhak Jhapped me.” For a moment we were uncertain (zapped) about what he meant however later it dawned on us he meant ‘Zak (P. Zachariah our physiology professor) Zapped me.” This word of course is an English word.

Lawda:- A corruption of the Hindi gaali ‘Lourra’ which refers to the phallus. However when used it was more often used to indicate ones dissent, like if someone was asked “lets go to Verghs canteen for coffee” the reply could be “Lawda!” I have a lot of studying to do.”
Once in a while during a Class Meeting or a General Body Meeting there would be a lot of cacophony going on regarding some contentious issue. Someone in the front benches was trying to make a point while the back bencher where shouting what everyone thought was “Louder! Louder!” But actually it was “Lawda! Lawda!” conveying their dissent.

Fart:- This was used to describe anybody stupid or who did not measure up to your personal standards of cool. So when asked “how is that fresher?” The answer could be very short and sweet, “he’s a fart!” or some people got the classification of ‘superfart’ if they were really obnoxious. The usage is far removed from the original English meaning of flatulence.

Kusoo:- I believe this is the Tamil word for flatulence and was used by some of us as an alternative for fart. However was not that popular as fart. In our first year we affectionately called Venky (B. Venkatesh aka Bala) as Mr. K.K.B.J.L. Gopalan, the long initials stood for ‘Kakoose Kusoo Blow Job Lawda Gopalan’ in other word Shitpot Fart Blow Job Dick Gopalan. But realize there was no malice and it was with great affection we used this sobriquet. When I met Venky during Agroos 50th birthday I asked him if he remembered his name and he did.

Poondax:- Where this term originated from I have no idea and leave it to the rest of you to enlighten me however it was used to indicate the gate crasher or the odd man out. So if a couple was going out for a romantic dinner someone would ‘poondax’ by inviting himself as the third person. It was what is known as in Hindi as ‘Kabab mein Haddi’.

Checks:- If you have been following my posts you will recollect the one how the word checks gets pronounced as sex by the native Tamil speaker. Well after that incident a lot of the girls began using the word ‘checks‘ for sexy. So if you asked how your shirt looked you could get a response like ‘checks’ and so on.

Sexy:- Those day every Malayalam film had an English translation of their titles like ‘Sexy Dreams’ or ‘Her Nights’ and screened in theatres with suggestive names like ‘Blue’, though our hard core
Malayalees would vehemently clarify that the title in the original Malayalam had no reference whatsoever to either the ‘sex in her dreams’ or the ‘nights in her days’. But in CMC the word sexy was used to describe anything good or attractive. A dinner could also be sexy as well as a podima (request reader to refer to earlier posts) and had no relation whatsoever to the act.

Galata:- This is a Tamil word which means festival, carnival or dhammal but we used it for a noisy gathering, “there was a galata in the slums and the buggers got ducked”.
Ducked:- This could mean throwing a bucket of water on the juniors when they are making to much of noise or even otherwise or throwing someone into the Mens Hostel pond to celebrate his birthday or any other day.

Gumbal:- Literally meaning “crowd” in Tamil, the term is variously used to signify any gathering of people such as a group, a gang or a class. However in CMC it meant a group song where all and sundry sang in sweet cacophony.

Kai thook:- Literal meaning in Tamil is to raise your hand but it was used by our class to indicate a bad joke. I remember around that time the ‘Kumbh Mela’ was going on in Allahabad and a variety of weird Sadhus were assembling over there and one in particular had kept his hand permanently raised for the past 11 years. On reading this in the paper one of the wags in our class remarked he must have really cracked one bad PJ. This term originated when Priyo Sada made a speech in which he told the crowd they will know when to laugh when he raises his hand.

Kai Pottach:- Another use for the ‘kai’ as paws to ‘cop a feel’ and the word was used precisely for that action.

Soot:- Referred to the posterior end or more precisely an arse. So if someone thought you were an arse he would call you a soot. This I also believe was of Tamil origin.

Kottais:- In Tamil I believe this means a seed but this was used along with an ‘s’ to indicate plural to say ‘balls’. It was also said along with a hand gesture, like a spinnner turning a ball in his hand to indicate torsion thereby causing injury on insult. It was also used as a negation, for example someone requests you to do something you simply say ‘kottai’ or don’t say anything at all just make the gesture.

Ingay okaar:- This was a unique way of giving someone the finger. You just raise your middle finger and say ‘Ingay Okaar’. I believe that means sit here in Tamil.

Chumma:- This was an all time favourite term used whenever you did not want to give an answer or elaborate.
Question: Why are you going to town? Answer: Chumma! There is also the
famous ‘kaithook’ joke popular then, Why did the Tamilian cross the road? Answer: Chumma! and why did the Malayalee cross the road?
Answer: Simbally!
This also reminded me that Sunil Agarwal was in Ludhiana for a stint and was taking clinics for the students. He forgot that he was in Punjab and used the word ‘Chumma’, which means ‘kiss’ in Hindi. I could see the students smiling though Sunil was oblivious.

Gundale gud guddu:- This is a Telgu colloquialism for palpitations but it became viral because the lets say the ‘alliteration’? So it was used to ride the
Goltis. I remember a lecturer in ophthalmology trying to communicate with a Telgu patient. The Telgu speaking patients were notoriously dumb (maybe because most of them were from the villages across the border). Finally this lecturer in frustration slams his torch down hard on the table brings his face inches away from the patient’s face and says loudly in frustration ‘Gundale gud guddu!’ The patient totally unperturbed says “Aim chepistanaru Doktor garu?”

Broads:- This referred to the residents of ‘other side of the road’. Possibly referring to the breadth of their behinds brought to notice by the waddle of their gaits.

Other side of the road:- This was the euphemism for the women’s hostel, commonly heard was, “He’s gone to the other side of the road to gonad with the broads”.

Gonad:- A medical term referring to the human reproductive system however used in CMC in the context of making out. Possibly the origin of this term in this context is as result of one of the traditional activities the freshers were subjected to, going to town and collecting ‘ads’ from the shopkeeper in town along with our immediate seniors. Not a very pleasant job as the shopkeeper were not willing to part with their money. But a good opportunity for the seniors to gonadotropin with the junior girls.

Da:- Was an affectionate way to refer to a friend or another resident of Men’s Hostel.

Dey:- Was sometimes used as a warning like in, “Dey, Dey”, but generally used to denote less affection.

Whoataa:- Eff you! I think it also means the same in Tamil.

Whoatistanaru:- Adding some Telgu spin to a Tamil word to make it more interesting.

Maadari:-This in Tamil means ‘like’ in a comparative sense so if you wanted to say someone looked like someone or did something like someone you said “He’s muscular Moji maadari.”

Steady:- We were first exposed to this term during our ragging. Sunil Agarwal was the Nazi field whore who carried a toy rifle and wore a tin helmet with a Swastika painted on it. Whenever any senior said “steady Agarwal” he was supposed to stand at attention raise his right hand in the Nazi salute and say “Bugger all! Bugger all!” Thats how
Agroo became Bugaroo. The word steady was ambiguous and could be used in most contexts.

Heavy:- Anything could be described as heavy. If you are going with a girl it could be heavy. If you are wearing good clothes it could also be heavy.

Kudi:- Another term of endearment used in the men’s hostel. Origin is Tamil and I believe it refers to the female reproductive system.

Grub:- Any kind of food was referred to as grub. Our class even had special prayer. After the Grace ‘Praise God from whom all blessings flow…’ was sung then in chorus we used to say ‘Rubadubdubdub! Thanks for the Grub.’

Saapaad:- Another Tamil word which means food and used for the same. But it also referred to the procedures we were allowed to do as a reward for hard work during our internship.

Other side of the road:- This referred to the Women’s Hostel and their inmates. When the whereabouts of someone was enquired. The answer would be ‘ Oh! He’s on the other side of the road gonading with his broad’.

Architaan:- This again I believe is a Tamil word but used mainly to indicate a ‘Eureka’ moment.

Mansion of the Gods:- This is where the Gods resides and we all know who they are.

Gujaal:- This is again of Tamil origin and it was used to indicate confusion or trouble brewing.

Baaila:- If I am not mistaken this word originates from Sri Lanka and used by us for a group song.

Golti:- A Telgu was a Golti when reversed.

Oily:- Referred to the Malayalees because of the characteristic way
they pronounced the word Ooyeel (Oil).

Kundi:- We had so many word for the backside and this was one more. The word was of Tamil origin. Funnily the same word in Hindi means a door latch. So in North India if a South Indian was told ‘open the Kundi and come in’, he’d be zapped.

Gooseberry:- This again means the third person who makes company into a crowd.

So folks you are free to add to this Glossary. There maybe new terms

which are used in CMC so updating is necessary. But this is as much as I can remember. Three Cheers For the Silver and Blue !

Wilkinson’s Theory of Relativity of Time

I postulated this theory during a period of idle musing, though posted earlier it’s still relevant.
Wilkinson’s Theory of Relativity of Time
Einstein postulated his theory of special relativity in 1905 and general relativity in 1916. These dealt with space time. A moving clock ticks slower than a stationary clock. This was the concept of time dilatation. It is an interesting concept and I have also observed variables in the perception of time. This made me propagate my own theory of relativity of time. Mind you this theory is a theory of perception rather than an actual physical phenomenon. I took the liberty of calling of giving it the pompous title of ‘Wilkinson’s Theory of Relativity of Time’.

– Work expands to fill the available time:- We all have heard about the saying “the maximum is achieved at the eleventh hour”. This is especially true for studies, if we have say x days for preparation for an exam, our preparation in earnest will only begin on x-(x-1) day or in simpler words a day before the exam. We always feel we have plenty of time on day x and even when we attempt studying on that day the adrenalin does not kick in sufficiently and even if we stare at the books our minds are miles away. This holds true in almost every task where we have a number of days to complete, invariably the eleventh hour is when the maximum is achieved.
– Perception of the length of time is inversely proportional to your age:- This is a practical concept which everyone would have experienced. When you were studying in first standard a year seemed so long. Then as you progressed a year began to shrink. As you age a year doesn’t seem so long. This can be explained by the fact that when you in first standard a year, you would be around 5 years old and a year represents 1/5th of your entire life. As you age this fraction decreases so for me it is now 1/53rd of my life. Therefore my perception of a year has shrunk inversely to my age. If I ever reach the century mark the fraction would have shrunk further.
– Perception of time either shrinks or dilates related to the task at hand:- Have you ever run on a treadmill and realised how long a second can be? Or waited at a traffic signal for what seemed an interminably long wait but was actually only a minute. In contrast when we are commuting to our work place and are late, how fast the needles of the clock seem to move. Going on your first date is an example of both, time creeps to the appointed time of meeting and the date finishes off in an instant. Time crawls when you have a distasteful task at hand and flies when you are enjoying yourself. The irony!

Torments of Toilet Paper

Readers are warned that this is a scatological piece.
While travelling abroad the Desis is exposed to the use of toilet paper. Not that they are ignorant about the use, but it is considered ‘Angrezon ki chochlebaazi’ (Idiosyncrasies of the white man).
In one of the medical schools I trained in, there was a British operation theatre nurse. She was the ‘propah’ Britisher and one day she happened to spot a senior Anaesthetist resting his behind on one of the shelfs in the operation theatre where the autoclaved material is kept. She immediately reprimanded him him “Doctor____ could you kindly remove your unsterile posterior from the vicinity of the sterile material.” The Anaesthetist was famous for his wit and immediately reparted, “Sister we wash them, we don’t wipe them.” Needless to say ‘Sister’ was speechless and the onlookers could barely suppress their smiles.
Every region of India has their version of fiery food. The state of Assam is famous for it’s ‘Bhoot Jhalokha’ green chilli which earlier held the record of being the hottest in the world. In South, Andhra cooking is very fiery, with every morsel a sip of water is mandatory and inspite of which your buccal mucosa still feels like it’s on fire.
My home town of Nagpur has it’s own unique ‘Saoji Cusine’, which is very famous for being fiery. Many people who come from out of town want to taste this cooking. If you ask a local he will say it’s ‘g__d faar’ cooking (literally means ‘Ass tearing’). The reason you will soon be apparent.
Saoji cooking is classified into 3 grades depending on it’s fire:-

  1. After eating your mouth is on fire.
  2. After eating in the morning there is a burning pain in the epigastrium indicating your stomach is on fire.
  3. When you go to the toilet in the morning your Ass is on fire. To this a wag added two additional grades for what emerges.

4. The pig’s mouth is on fire.
5. The pig’s Ass is on fire.

Legend has it’s that the white man visited Nagpur. He was puzzled when he saw the use of water for cleaning as opposed to the more civilised toilet paper.
He also was brave enough to experiment with grade 3. Saoji food. Next morning his Ass was on fire. Wiping only made it worse as the rough paper abraded the sensitive skin aggravating the burning sensation. Relief finally came when he took a mug of water and poured it on his posterior. This was a moment of relief and enlightenment, for now he knew why Indians preferred to wash than to wipe.
I had the opportunity of treating one such patient. He had lived in Pakistan and spoke some Urdu. He kept on telling me about about the burning there “jal raha hai”. When I examined the said area, there was a realistic lipstick mark tattoo on the right cheek of his buttock. Literally conveying ‘kiss my Ass’. He was suffering from acute fissure-in-ano.
The earliest mention of the use of toilet paper was by the Chinese. They also specified that paper with writing on it should not be used. Various other objects from pebbles by the Hebrews, sticks by the Turks and sponges by the Romans were used. The Americans before the availability of commercial toilet paper used pages from Sears Roebuck catalogue before it began printing on glossy paper then it became unsuitable for wiping. The Farmer’s Almanac, even had a hole at one corner so it could be hung from a nail on the wall of the toilet and pages could be conveniently torn. They knew their predictions were crap! However with the advent of modern sewage lines these had to be abandoned for the use of modern toilet paper, made with short filaments and degraded easily avoiding clogging of the sewage line.
The European have the bidet and bidet showers. The Indian subcontinent has the ubiquitous ‘lota’. Incidentally the slang for sycophants in Pakistan is lota.
In the National Cadet Corp camps, where they instill military training on school children they have a lota parade in the morning at the break of dawn.
But for the unaccustomed wiping leaves an itchy, unclean feeling. Medically this is known as pruritis ani. The person surreptitiously reaching for their behind when the itch becomes unbearable.
A NRI has fully integrated with his adopted country when ceases washing and commences wiping.

Waddling gait!

Before my memory fails me or I go to my heavenly abode let me retell another story of our sojourn in CMC.
This story dates to circa 1979 when we were 2nd Juniors and finally exposed to the actual medical studies like anatomy, physiology and biochemistry. We loved to find some clinical application to the dry subjects we were learning especially anatomy.
As all of you recollect we were divided into groups of 4, two per side of the body and one read the Cunningham Manual aloud while the other dissected. The portion being covered was the lower limb and the star of my story was R.M.K and his dissection partner was ‘Johns’ (I am trying to use generic names to avoid identification of the characters).  The area of dissection was the lower limb more specifically the gluteal region and R.M.K. was dissecting and Johns reading. One vignette was read by Johns, “weakness in the gluteus medius muscle will give rise to a waddling gait”. This stuck in R.M.K.’s mind and when we broke for lunch he carefully observed the gaits of our classmates. His eyeball then zoomed on one particular member of the fairer sex who though otherwise extremely petite, had a derriere which did not quite fit the description of ‘petite’. The gait resembled a ship rolling on the ocean and reminded you of the Mitch Miller song, “She’s got a pair of hips just like two battleships……….”.   A bulb light up in R.M.K’s mind and immediately he went up to her and stuttered “you got a waddling gait, you must be having weakness in the gluteus medius”. As you can imagine the lady in question was totally flabbergasted and didn’t know how to react. She turned to Johns who was in the vicinity looking sheepish and said “Johns scold him!” Poor R.M.K.! A remark made in all innocence with no malevolent intent!

Presumed Perversion

This story dates back to Circa 1985 when I was a ‘wet behind the ear’ fresh MBBS graduate. I was working in a Hospital as a Junior Doctor.
I was on call every alternate night and during these call nights I had to attend to all patients presenting in the casualty and all emergencies in the wards. I had a room in the Hospital Guest House which was fairly decent.
In those days getting a landline connection took 4 years, forget about
cell phones. So calls were written in a notebook by the nurse on duty and hand delivered to the Doctor on call. These were predictably worded like, “Respected Dr. on call,
A patient with fever has presented to the casualty so kindly come and see.” There is a joke whether true or not but it’s part of folklore, once the duty Doctors got this call, “Respected Dr. on call, A patient has presented in the  casualty unable to pass urine. So please come and pass urine.”
The hospital was mainly staffed by student nurses doing their training and night duties were done almost exclusively by these students. Majority of them were from Kerala with highly accented Hindi. They came bearing the call in pairs. I am a night owl and once I sleep I have difficulty in getting up so I would normally remain awake late during call days. Foot falls on the path leading to the guest house would herald an impending call. This is followed by louder foot falls in the corridor as soon as they enter the guest house, then a momentary silence outside my door, some mumbled conversation in Malayalam followed by giggles and then a tentative knock. I open the door and promptly the call book was thrust into my hand. Predictably it read, “Respected Dr. on call,  A patient with bleeding has come to the casualty so kindly come and see. “Kahan se bleeding ho raha hai?”(from where is the bleeding?) I ask irritably, “Pata nahin” (don’t know), comes the reply followed by further giggling. Now I am ready to explode but better sense prevails and I pacify myself with thoughts like “forgive them for they know not the language” and “be kind to dumb animals.” I hand back the call book to them and say “Okay.” Which they promptly hand back saying “Call sign kar do (sign the call). ” I almost have an apoplectic fit but control myself and sign the book. Then I change from my night clothes cursing the loss of sleep and the patient for bleeding at this time of the night.
The walk from my room to the casualty is fairly long and during this walk my mind goes through the possible case scenarios. The patient may have got cut accidently or having blood in stools or maybe vomiting blood. On reaching the casualty I am shown a young lady, she is obviously from a poor socioeconomic status. Her saree and jewellery suggested she is newly wed and her head demurely covered with her saree pallu. I ask her what her problem was, in reply she looks down and adjusted her head cover to completely cover her face. Meanwhile another elder lady amongst the retinue of relatives accompanying her piped in, “isko BP ki bimari hai” (she is sufferng from BP), further confusing matters. Finally a sensible lady amongst the accompanying crowd presumably her Mother-in-law, said “sachi baat yeh hai ki inki nai shaadi hai” (the truth is they are newly wed), pointing out to her son who seemed to give a self satisfied smirk back at me. “Aaj isko bahut khoon beha raha hai” (she is bleeding excessively today). I then examined the patient, her sanitary napkin was soaked with blood and  more blood was trickling from the vagina. I knew I was out of my depth so I sent a call to the gynaecologist. Meanwhile I asked the patient how this had happened? The patient in absence of her in-laws was more vocal, “gandhe kaam kar rahe the” (we were doing dirty things).
The gynaecologist was a middle aged spinster who like all middle aged unmarried gynaecologist was crabby. They tend to vent their irritation on their patients. Perhaps an undercurrent of envy ran in them of not have gone through these natural stages in life but being forced to witness others enjoying it. After scolding the relatives for not coming earlier and generally not taking care of the patient, she examined the patient. “Yeh toh post-coital bleeding hai (this is post-coital bleeding)!” She tells me. Inform the anaesthetist and prepare her for exploration.
The Anaesthetist was the reigning Queen Bee of the Hospital, known as ‘Kalra Bai’ to all and sundry but not on her face. She lived in the hospital campus and her quarters were so strategically located that she had to barely walk a few feet to reach the operation theatre complex. During the day her anaesthesia was interspersed by visits to her kitchen. She would do the fine juggling act perfectly between the anaesthetised patient and the required number of ceetees of the pressure cooker. The food in her house was always perfectly cooked. She was a fount of information about everything from solar cookers which she had installed to various fabrics and where it was available. We were bombarded by her monologue whenever we were operating. She never wasted her time, after the patient was anaesthetised she always had some needle work or handicraft she was working on in her bag.
After Kalra Bai was informed and the patient was taken into the operation theatre. I scrubbed up to assist the gynaecologist. Under anaesthesia we could examine the patient properly. The tear began from the introitus on to the left lateral wall of the vagina, upto the cervix and went halfway around the circumference of the  cervix. The gynaecologist efficiently sutured the entire tear with catgut. I had not seen so much destruction from an act of love. I asked the gynaecologist whether this was possible in the normal course, to which she replied “Yes if the lubrication is not adequate.”
But I was not convinced, especially since we had gone through all the possible sexual perversions in forensic medicine. It even has a scientific name ‘polyembolokoilamania’, meaning insertion of foreign objects into the vagina. In this case the husband appeared to be the guilty party, which explained his smirk.
A case scenario emerged in my mind, the husband is a sadist in addition is impotent. In this pre-viagra era he compensated for his lack of rigidity by using a ‘danda’ (staff).
I decided to do some investigations of my own. So I waited for the next day and for an opportune moment when there were no relatives with the patent. After the niceties of enquiring about her health, I mentioned that there was considerable damage. Then I again placed the question, how did it happen? The reply from the patient was “Bataya na Doctor, gandhe kaam kar rahe the (I already told you Doctor, we were doing dirty things).
If she had said “we were having sex,” I would have questioned her no further, however she chose to state it euphemistically.
The word ‘sex’ is taboo and is considered dirty. However the ‘dirty things’ could also mean perversions. So I persisted in my questioning, “kya gandhe kaam kar rahe the?” (What dirty things were you doing?) Her reply was “jo shaadi ke baad karte” (what is done after marriage). This should have satisfied me but I was so convinced that there was perversion involved I persisted in my questioning. Now I framed my question in a more direct manner to avoid an ambiguous answer, “kya lakdi istemaal kiya?” (Did he use a stick?)
The patient had the most incredulous expression on her face which changed briefly to pity, “kya Doctor aap itne nadaan ho, aap ko yeh bhi nahi pata ki shaadi ke baad kya karte. Kabhi lakdi istemaal karte?” (Are you so innocent Doctor that you don’t know what is done after marriage. How can he use a stick?).
I beat a hasty retreat and remembered the quotation in Bailey & Love, “The ward is your library and the patients are your teachers.”

My first motorcycle ride!

When I was growing up owning a bicycle was a big thing let alone a motorcycle. Now that was a pipe dream! Those were simpler times and a plain vanilla bicycle was an object of envy.There was a wide variety of bicycles brands to choose from, Raleigh, Atlas, Humber, Norton, Avon, Hercules, BSA and of course Hero. Most of these brands have gone the dinosaur way or consumed by their competitor. Though there was not a lot to choose from one bicycle or the other. They were all solidly built and came in varying shades of black! A few were in olive green and all had the solid hand brakes dating back to th British Raj. Only BSA manufactured what they called a ‘sport’s bike’, which had caliper brakes, some variations in colour and a more sporty look. Boy’s would ‘pimp up’ their ride by adding additional reflectors, some tassles to the handle grip. One of my friends made his seat higher by extending the rod which connects the seat and cycle. He also had to raise the handle bar by not only increasing the length of the bar but by giving the handle an inverted Omega shape’ a la chopper like handles made popular by the 1969 movie ‘Easy Rider’. He also changed the colour and got it painted a shimmering orange. There was a unique problem those days associated with the fashion of the times. Those were the days of bell bottom trousers. No self respecting boy would be caught without a 32“ bells. Yes the cuff of the pant measured a whopping 32″ and worn along with 3″ block heels. The problem is that the cuff would get caught in the sprocket of the pedal shaft while pedalling, resulting in tears in the cuff. Bicycle clips, also called trouser clips, which were small C-shaped pieces of thin flexible metal worn around the ankle when cycling in trousers. They were designed to prevent the bottom of the trousers from becoming caught in the chain or crank mechanism, and from being covered in oil and dirt.
Motorcycles were another thing altogether, in those days the reigning king was the Bullet 350cc manufactured by Royal Enfield. the company originally British started out as a weapons manufacturer.The legacy of weapons manufactureris reflected in the logo, a cannon, and their motto “Made like a gun, goes like a bullet”. It is still available in varying avatars now and hold the all time record of the oldest motorcycle brand in the world still in production.The engine gave a deep throated dhug! dhug! Of a four stroke engine. Very heavy so handling it required a certain amount of skill, otherwise you tilt it to one side and unless you had strong legs, it ended up falling on one side and the entire weight of the bike on your leg. Anticipating such mishaps the motorcycle was fitted with an engine guard in front and an optional leg guards in the middle. In case the bike did fall those two tubular projections prevented the entire weight of the bike falling on your legs. A good insurance policy especially for a spindly legged teenager like me. Then there was the Jawa or it’s later avatar the Yedzi. This was made with Czechoslovakian collaboration by the Ideal Jawa company in Mysore.The catchphrase for the bikes sold by the firm was “Forever bike forever value”.It was a 250cc motorcycle and much lighter than the Bullet and the engine gave a puny phut! phut! sound. In a Royal Enfield the gears were on the right side and the brakes on the left whereas in a Yedzi the gears on the left and the brakes on the right. This could cause confusion if you are used to one bike and by chance drove the other. You would be reflexively be pressing the gear thinking it’s the brakes and land up in a catastrophe.
After finishing my 12th examination and writing competitive examinations I had been called for the interview for Christian Medical College, Vellore. I had gone to celebrate in the evening at C.P. Club and there met my friend Bobby. He had borrowed a Bullet from one of his friends and driven it down to the Club. We both went down to the parking lot and admired the motorcycle and after which followed the most natural thing. I asked him whether I could drive it, to which he readily agreed. I drove it out of the Club Compound, the feeling was great with the wind raking through my body and the power of the motorcycle under me. A slight raise of acceleration and you could feel the motorcycle surge forwards. Sharp turns could be negotiated by shifting the body weight to one side and the motorcycle would bank to that side. By the time we were returning to the Club it had become dark. I had turned on the headlights only to discover that the headlights were not working and we were going on a lonely stretch at a fairly brisk speed. In the middle of the road there were sitting and ruminating a white cow and a black cow or maybe a buffalo, now I am not sure. Because of the fading lights the white Cow was visible but the black one was invisible. I shifted my weight to one side to avoid the white cow, then suddenly the handle bar along with the speedometer rose to become almost parallel to my nose and next equally suddenly it dropped to below my waist level. I was catapulted off my seat over the handle and face first to the ground, luckily self preservation instincts kicked in and my hands came forwards in front of my face preventing me from landing flat on it. I looked up and saw my friend sailing above me and landing unceremoniously on his bum just a little ahead of me. Then I looked behind and saw the cow casually get up and walk away. We had driven right over the cow which explained the suddenly rise and fall of the motorcycle. Both of us not seriously injured we examined the damage to the motorcycle. The front fork was bent so badly that the wheel of the motorcycle was perpetually turned to the left. We somehow managed to get it back to C.P. Club and left it in the parking lot. The next day we got a mechanic and managed to get it fixed. The fork had to be straightened by a hydraulic press and we had to pool our resources to pay for the damages. The motorcycle was returned to it’s rightful owner who I am not sure was the wiser and both of us laughed it off as another episode of our lives.

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