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Courting Arrest! 

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“I have an arrest warrant in your name.

Imagine if these words are spoken to you despite you being a law abiding citizen. Okay I may have broken some traffic signals unwittingly but no serious misdemeanour.

But these exact words were being spoken to me.

How did this happen? Let me fill you a bit about the history behind it.

I teach in a medical school and devote my evenings to a charitable trust hospital. I have worked there for the past 20 years and I have developed a loyal patient base.

Mondays are normally very busy days in the hospital. There is a tall stack of out patient cards on my table arranged in order of who came first and I examine the patients in that order.

One such busy Monday I was examining a patient and a young man barged into the room. Taking him for a patient trying to cut que, I admonished him for his lack of etiquette and patience. I firmly told him to wait for his turn. He tried to say something in his defense but I was peeved and cut him short. He gave up resisting and meekly retreated and I went back to examining patients completely forgetting the incident.

After I had finished seeing all the patients, he again opened the door and politely asked permission to enter, which I responded to the affirmative. He looked like the garden variety of patients I see regularly, except for being tall and well built. He must have been in his twenties with short hair combed sensibly.

He approached my desk with a piece of paper in his hand and very apologetically proffered the paper to me and said “Sir! I have an arrest warrant in your name!”

Surprisingly it did not alarm me rather it sent me into a state of déjà vu!

I have been through this before!

I had a flashback to my days as an overworked surgery resident in Ludhiana Punjab.

I had the good fortune of being in Punjab during it’s most disturbed period in history. There was a violent separatist movement going on. I will not go into the politics and justification behind these movements, suffice to say ‘today’s terrorist could be tomorrow’s freedom fighters’. Depending on whose side you are on.

It could be considered as mixed fortune because you had to duck bullets whizzing by and bombs exploding all around you. There was the division number 3 Police Station near the hospital which was a favourite place to plant a bomb. There was Fieldganj vegetable market where we did our vegetable shopping where motorcycle borne terrorists opened fire randomly into the crowd. There was the RSS Shakha assembling in a park in Kidwai Nagar and terrorists opening fire on them.

But every cloud has a silver lining and I could help the innocent victims and also gain experience treating trauma patients. I’ve seen bullet injuries of almost every part of the body. I will spare my readers the gory details. Since I left Ludhiana I have not treated a single bullet injury case.

It was bad luck for the innocent victims who was the common man trying to eke out a living.

Not all the trauma could be blamed on terrorist, there were a fair number of personal vendatta cases. Fights between neighbors and familes turning violent, Bride burning and other domestic violence.

Along with the treatment we had to do the paperwork. An FIR (First information report or FIR) to be filled and sent to the neighbouring police station, informing them that such a case has been admitted. The Police would come to take a ‘statement’ from the victim, but before taking a statement they would ask a resident to certify whether the patient was fit or coherent enough to give his or her statement. The resident had to sign on the Police records stating whether the patient was fit or unfit.

After the statement was taken the police would make another visit and ask for an injury report. This again was provided by the residents, certifying that he had examined the patient and the injuries were listed, with the dimensions. The mode of injury were mentioned, i.e. blunt trauma, sharp object or penetrating. Finally the type of injury, whether it was simple, grievous or dangerous to life. All this would be part of the police record.

The consultants studiously avoided getting involved in the paper work though they were active in the treatment. Later the readers will realize why.

Not all cases would reach the courts, they would be settled amicably by the concerned parties. However if it did reach the court then the Judge after sifting through the paperwork done by the police, would issue summons to appear as expert witness to whoever had certified the fitness or issued the injury report or had his signature on any paper in the police records.

These summons had to be personally served to whoever it was intended. The job was given to a constable of the Punjab Police. He would personally roam the entire hospital ferret out the concerned resident and hand him the summon. The residents would warn each other about a summon waiting to be served so hide! Sometimes you could see a resident running with the cop in hot pursuit waving the summon in his outstretched hand and shouting “Haanji Daktar Sahab!” (Loosely translated to Attention Doctor Sir). Sometimes when confronted face to face with the cop, the resident would deny that he was himself. But police being police would establish his true identity and serve the summon. An acknowledgement was taken on a carbon copy of the summon. Surprisingly the cops were very indulgent and took it like a game in good humour. All the straight faced denials of not being yourself was met with a smile and an expression which said “I’ve heard that one before.”

The summon itself is the most ambiguous document. All it said was that you are requested to appear in the court of the honourable Judge so and so in so and so court on so and so date to be witness to State vs so and so and to top it all it will be written in Gurmukhi! We were clueless to which of the scores of patients we have seen did it pertain to.

Why was there so much reluctance to attend court? Because it was the most boring and fruitless thing to do, the whole day was wasted. If it involved a visit to the local court then it would be okay but victims came from all over Punjab. I’ve attended the courts in Ferozepur, Fazilka, Faridkot, Pathankot, Bathinda, Batala, Dhariwal, Kapurthala, Khanna, Moga, Malerkotla and many more. I leave home early in the morning catch a bus either from the bus adda or Samrala Chowk, which was a major intersection. This is when I realized that Punjab is not a very big state, divided by Radcliffe’s arbitrary line during the partition and then Haryana and Himchal were carved out of it during the reorganization of states on linguistic lines. So with a 3 hour bus ride you can reach most major towns in the state.

On reaching the destination, I had to catch a cycle rickshaw and tell him to take me to the ‘kaccheri’.

On reaching the court I had to find the courtroom of the Honorable Judge who had issued the summons. The courts are rabbit warrens with rooms built at random. Originally they were built by the British but after Independence with the rising population came an increase in court cases and a requirement for more space. So courtrooms were built without much prior planning.

Once you find the courtroom and enter the scene is the same in all courts. A bailiff guarding the entrance and hailing out the witnesses to be hazir or present whenever there case comes up for hearing. The Judge sitting on his desk perched up high above everybody else, looking totally bored with the proceedings around him. He is flanked on one side by the clerk who is checking the list of cases to be heard for the day and giving the bailiff instructions on who to hail. And the stenographer typist who is vigorously typing the proceedings of the cross questioning of a witness going on in front of the judge. Behind them are benches and chairs arranged in two rows with a narrow aisle separating them. Lawyers and their clients, police men and undertrials and others whom I presume were relatives occupy the chairs with an expression of disinterest.

I go to the clerk and meekly hand him my summon, he looks at me suspiciously and checks the summon with the list in front of him and then smiles at me. “Tussi Daktar ho?” (Are you a Doctor?) he asks in Punjabi. To which I answer in the affirmative. “Tussi baith jao, twada case chheti ho jayega” (you sit down, your case will be taken up soon) gesturing to the rows behind. I find an empty place and unfold a newspaper and begin to read, immediately the bailiff admonished me and tells me that reading is not allowed in the courtroom, all attention has to be directed to the proceedings. So I watch the proceedings, every lawyer entering the court will turn and face the judge and give a ceremonial nod in a show of respect. I suspect it actually supposed to be a bow but got abbreviated with time. The judge is busy with some paper work while the witness is being cross questioned by the two lawyers. The proceedings are being typed by the stenographer typist. When they finish the paper is first handed to the judge for his okay and then to the witness to sign.

Then I’m called to give witness, they have taken into consideration that I’ve come from a distance and I’m a busy doctor and allowed me to cut que.

The Judge asks me, “do you take an oath to tell the truth?” Not asking me to place my hand on any holy scripture, unlike in the films. Though I suspect this also got abbreviated. I nod to which he says “answer my question!”

I say loudly “I do!” Then he indicates to the lawyer representing the state to take over. The lawyer hands me a stack of documents tied onto a cardboard base with a red tape (the phrase ‘red tape’ originated with this practice). I untie the tape and go through the documents. It consists of photocopies of the hospital in patient records, the injury report and the fitness certificates, the discharge summary. Finally I get to know which case it was. It was when I was posted in neurosurgery and a lady was brought who had been brutally hit on the head with a ‘gandasa’ by her husband. She must have really served him a bad meal! A gandasa is an agricultural implement used in Punjab, it consists of a long stick, often as long as the user with a blade at the end, akin to a long axe. There was a deep gash on the scalp and the underlying skull bone above the left eye was shattered. Obviously she was in no condition to give her statement on arrival so my unfit certificate was in the records. She had to be immediately operated where the shattered pieces of bone were removed along with most of the left frontal lobe of the brain. She survived and recovered. Frontal lobes were removed in the early part of the 20th century as a routine to treat extremely violent mentally ill patients without causing major disabilities except for subtle personality changes, like not understanding relationships, boastful behaviour and urinating in public! I suppose the last disorder would not be considered unusual in India. A famous case was that of Rosemary Kennedy sister of John F. Kennedy or JFK. However the surgery was unsuccessful and the procedure left her with the mental capacity of a 2 year old child and incontinent.

So then the State lawyer asks me which documents bear my signature? I point out to the injury report, the fitness certificate and the discharge card. The lawyer begins to dictate ‘my statement to the typist’, “It is true that the documents numbered so and so bear my signature and have been prepared by me then he asks me to dictate out the injury report and at the end adds “the contents are true and prepared by me.” Then my typed statement is handed to me and I’m asked to sign. I try reading it but he tells me “don’t bother reading just sign it!” I protest saying they are a lot of spelling errors in the statements. He says “doesn’t matter just sign it!” rolling his eyes skywards in exasperation.

Now is the turn of the defense lawyer to cross question me, he starts off with “Doctor are injuries like these possible with a fall from a staircase?” I say “technically it’s possible but she would have to land on her head over a sharp object.” The defense lawyer cut me short and said “just answer yes or no!” To which I meekly said “yes!” and typewriter clattered almost in unison with my response. Then he asked “Doctor can you give me the definition of coup and countrecoup injury?” Now though I understood the mechanism of coup and countrecoup injuries when suddenly asked to give the definition I began to fumble with the answer, to which he cut me short and said “that’s enough!” And another typed statement was placed in front of me to sign without reading.

Coup and countrecoup injuries are as a result of the brain floating in cerebrospinal fluid, coup injury is at the site of impact and countrecoup injury is on the other side due to the brain moving within the skull and hitting the inside. This apparently was a favourite question lawyers would ask especially in head injuries cases to demonstrate the inadequacy of the doctor.

After the signing was over the judge said “you are now excused Doctor.”

To which I said “what about the travel allowance which the court is supposed to pay me?”

To this the Judge said “do you really need the money Doctor?” A rhetorical question, but then playing by the earlier rule laid down by the State, I said “yes!” After all that money has been set aside for this purpose and if I don’t claim it someone else would. So the Judge hands me an attendance certificate and another letter for the amount and tells me “go collect the money from the Naazar.” My next job is to hunt out the Naazar’s office in that rabbit warren. When I finally reach the Naazar’s office I’m told he has gone out to an unspecified destination for an unspecified length of time. I’m welcome to wait for his return. I decide to head back home because if I wait for too long I would not get a bus back. Because of the disturbed situation in Punjab, buses did not ply after sunset and it was risky to travel in the night.

So having gone through this fruitless exercise and also having to pay for the excursion obviously I was not too enthusiastic about accepting another summon.

So after a couple of more visits to the courts I also became a seasoned summon dodger avoiding the constable if possible but more often than not he was successful in serving me the summons.

Then came next stage when despite being served the summon I would not appear in court, either due to work load or due to lethargy or just that it slipped out of my mind.

So then what happened?

I would be served another summon for the same case and yet another. Sometimes after the first non attended summon the matter would get settled either amicably by both parties or another resident whose signature is also on the records would attend court and identify my signature and certify that the documents are true.

However there were the cases in which the differences were irreconcilable and there were no other signatures on the records except mine and I did a hat-trick in non appearance. Then again a constable would hunt me down in whichever corner of the hospital I am in. He would approach me beaming from ear to ear and greet me “Sat Sri Akal Ji Doctor Sahab!” To which I would respond in a similar manner. Then the constable would say, “Assi arrest warrant le ke aye si, twade naa da.” (I have brought an arrest warrant in your name).

This jolted me for a moment.

“Tussi court aye nahi teen vele iss liye” he added. (You didn’t appear in court 3 times that’s why).

So then I imagined I would be handcuffed and maybe read the Miranda Rights like in Hollywood movies

1.You have the right to remain silent and refuse to answer questions.

2. Anything you say may be used against you in a court of law.

3. You have the right to consult an attorney before speaking to the police and to have an attorney present during questioning now or in the future.

4. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you before any questioning if you wish.

5. If you decide to answer questions now without an attorney present, you will still have the right to stop answering at any time until you talk to an attorney.

6. Knowing and understanding your rights as I have explained them to you, are you willing to answer my questions without an attorney present?

However this is India and the main difference is that in India any statement or confession made to the Police is inadmissible in a court of law.

Anyway it was only me dramatising my situation using my fertile imagination.

Going back to reality I asked now what am I supposed to do? To this he replied “this is a bailable warrant and you just sign here and I will post your bail. But if you don’t appear in court subsequently a non bailable warrant will be issued.”

That was a relief for me and I quickly signed wherever he told me to and since I couldn’t read Gurmukhi I didn’t have the faintest idea on what I had signed on. By the way Punjabi has two scripts Gurumukhi which literally means the words of the Guru which was developed Guru Angad Devji the second Guru of the Sikhs. All the Holy literature of the Sikhs is written in Gurmukhi. Then there is the Shahmukhi script which is in the Arabic-Persian script and used by the Punjabi Muslims mainly across the border.

On asking around I discovered this form of arrest was fairly routine. Almost every resident has had an arrest warrant in their name. I asked another senior what would happen if I still didn’t go? He replied “Nothing! You’ll just get another and another ad infinitum, until you attend.”

So I realized I was in good company of jail birds though none of us had seen the inside of a jail or that matter the inside of a police station.

Then I began to wonder about the legal implications of this ‘arrest warrant’. As I understood if you are served an actual arrest warrant you would have to go to the police station and obtain bail for which a surety amount is posted. This warrant was more like a threat to frighten you into attending court. It would look bad for the police and the judiciary to arrest an innocent doctor for just not appearing in court!

But I took no chances and avoided any further ‘arrest warrants’ being served.

Mr. K. P. S. Gill was the Director General of the Punjab Police, he is credited in bringing the terrorism in Punjab under control but he was also accused of human rights violations. The Police were in total control and even having a pillion rider on your two wheeler was not permitted after sunset. If you were caught having a pillion rider and did not stop when the police stopped you, they had full right to open fire. Because motorcycle borne terrorists with the pillion rider shooting was the modus operandi of the terrorist.

We once had to attend a party in the other side of town. Only one of us had a motorcycle and 9 had to attend. So the solitary motorcycle made multiple trips ‘triple seated’ trying to avoid the police barricades. I was lucky to make it to the party and back. But the last trip got caught and the driver was slapped so hard he had a swollen face. So it was better to remain in the good books of the police.

After finishing my MS I returned to my home town Nagpur but my past life or more specifically my signatures continued to haunt me. One day I was resting at home when the domestic help told me that someone has come to meet me. I go downstairs and there is seated a familiar sight, a constable of the Punjab Police. He jumps to his feet and salutes me then greets me in a very familiar manner “Sat Sri Akal Ji Doctor Sahab!” I return the niceties and then comes another familiar statement “Twade vaste assi arrest warrant leke aye si!” (I have brought an arrest warrant for you). I inwardly groan and ask him to show me the papers. Looking at the papers I realise how much the Police have to work. Warrants have been issued for 3 ex residents. One lives in Pitthoragarh Uttarakhand, the other lives in Allahabad but now shifted to USA. The warrant is for an assault case in Malerkotla for which I have already been twice. I accept the warrant and get bail and promise insincerely to attend the court in Malerkotla. And before leaving he gave me a veiled threat, “if you dont come this time we will return with a fauj and arrest you!”

Malerkotla formerly a princely state was incorporated into the state of Punjab. It is in the heart of Punjab and has a Muslim majority but is an island of communal harmony.

The roots of communal harmony date back to 1705, when Sahibzada Fateh Singh and Sahibzada Zorawar Singh, 9 and 7 year old sons of 10th Sikh Guru, Guru Gobind Singh, were ordered to be bricked alive by the governor of Sirhind, Wazir Khan. His close relative, Sher Mohammed Khan, Nawab of Malerkotla, who was present in the court, lodged vehement protest against this inhuman act and said it is against the glorious tenets of Quran and Islam. Wazir Khan nevertheless had the Sahibzadas tortured and bricked into a section of wall while still alive. At this the noble Nawab of Malerkotla walked out of the court in protest. Guru Gobind Singh on learning this kind and humanitarian approach and blessed the Nawab of Malerkotla with his Hukanama and kripan. In recognition of this act, the State of Malerkotla did not witness a single incident of violence during partition.

But it’s a long journey from Nagpur to Malerkotla so I decided to take the risk of a fauj descending on me and arresting me. It’s been 17 years now and the fauj hasn’t turned up!

Back in Nagpur I treat quite a few cases of violence especially in the charitable hospital where I work and of issue injury reports.

And returning to the present, the arrest warrant which was being served to me pertained to a unique case of domestic violence with reversal of roles.

Now being much older and wiser I told the plain clothes cop to go ahead and arrest me. He was very apologetic and said “how can I do that?” So again I sign wherever required to prove I was arrested and received bail on the spot and with assurance I would attend the case the next day.

The case was that of a young couple who had an intercaste marriage against the wishes of their parents. But very soon there was a falling out between the two. Now allegedly the wife hired goondas to bump the husband off. They attacked him one evening in a lonely spot and stabbed him on his back. Luckily it was not fatal and the knife had not penetrated deep enough to cause serious damage. I sutured the wounds and discharged him within a day. The police came for the injury report which I issued. Then the matter went to the ‘fast track’ court and I was issued a summon. I attended the summon in the fast track court. This court is housed in what used to be the MLA Hostel. On reaching the court I found it empty except for the clerk and stenotypist. They informed me that the judge has gone to attend a workshop so they will be no hearings today.

Some months later I got another summon for the same case. Again I went to the fast track court and again was greeted by an empty court and this time the judge was on leave.

Subsequent summons I ignored and now comes the arrest warrant which is being served to me!

So I attend the hearing the next day, this time the judge is present and asks the defense lawyer to cross question. To this the accused lady stands up and says “I have done law so I am going to defend my own case!” The accused is an attractive slim young lady, stylishly dressed in black pants and a white shirt. Not looking at all like a seasoned criminal capable of giving out supari.

The judge asks her if she has a bar council registration to which she replies no. Then the judge says she cannot represent herself. He requests her former lawyer who is sitting in the benches to take her case and he refuses. So again the court is adjourned till she finds a lawyer to represent herself.

Few months later I get another summons for the same case. This time both the judge and a lawyer representing her are present. During my cross examination the defense lawyer finds a discrepancy in the discharge card. The date he was operated and the date he was assaulted don’t match. This card was filled by a junior doctor who made an error in the dates. Due to this discrepancy she is granted bail.

The judiciary system is famous for being notoriously slow. They say justice delayed is justice denied. Because of this comes the rise of the vigilante form of justice.

A famous case is that of a 2004 incident which occurred in Nagpur which created national headlines known popularly as the ‘Akku Yadav’ case. In August 2004, Bharat Kalicharan aka Akku Yadav a murder and rape accused was being led to the courtroom by the police for a hearing when a group of women attacked him in the court premises with knives, sticks and stones. The police were mere spectators, not anticipating such a vicious attack by women. The women killed Akku Yadav and the attack was so vicious they even emasculated him.

What drove ordinary women to such extent you have to know the history of Akku Yadav. He was a local goon terrorizing the Kasturba Nagar slums in Nagpur. He felt every young girl was fair game and no one dare raise any objections due to fear. The Police in their wisdom preferred to turn a Nelsonian eye towards his activities.

He was arrested couple of times for charges ranging from rape, murder or intimidation however was released due to lack of evidence. No one dared to come forward to give witness against him.

So finally the women of the locality, totally disgusted with his activities took the law in their own hands.

My connect with this incident was the main accused and leader a young girl in her twenties was my patient. She was a student of Hotel Management and had an attack of acute appendicitis. I had operated on her and she had recovered. She hardly appeared to be the type of person who would commit such a crime. Dressed like all students do with tee shirt and jeans. Never found her behaviour to be particularly aggressive. Happy with my treatment she brought other members of her family to me with various problems. Her brother was being treated for severe depression and ultimately committed suicide and her father was no more. She had declared to me that she was interested in serving society and did not want to get married. A few months before the incident she came to me saying after the surgery she has gained weight around the abdomen due to which she is getting rejected for jobs in Hotels and felt the surgery had something to do with it. I reassured her that surgery had nothing to do with the weight gain. Possibly because she was now pain free she was eating more. Then couple of months later the incident occurred which caught national headlines and reported on national TV. Initially I was not aware about her involvement but few days later the papers reported that this lady was arrested for being the leader along with her photograph. Later on she was acquitted for lack of evidence. Same story no one came forwards to bear witness against her. If you ask the any of the people in the locality she is a heroine who managed to rid the locality of a menace. The property values in the locality shot up within a year with the end of the Akku Yadav reign. People felt safe.

She is still my patient and I operated on her mother barely two months ago. She has done well for herself establishing a computer training school and a charitable trust as well as having a job in the airport. I have asked her details about the events but obviously she is not forthcoming with it. She claims a biopic is being made on her life and she is under contract not to reveal the details to anyone.

One of my friends told me his father gave him sound advice. “Never get into a legal dispute with anyone and drag him to court, because that’s a Chakravuha, you know how to get in but you don’t know how to get out. Instead haat paar jod lo aur maafi maang lo” (Apologize with folded hands). And further advice his father gave him was, “Kaale coat aur saffed coat se hamesha dur raho” (keep a wide berth from the black coats and white coats, i.e Lawyers and Doctors. Jesus Christ when he was crucified, along side him were crucified a thief and a murder. Someone wrote, “if he were to come down again this time it would be a lawyer and a doctor!”

The art of stabbing! Back stabbing excluded. 

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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! 

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​’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! 

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​“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’!

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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

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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

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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

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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.

From gropers to rapist!

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From gropers to rapist!
Delhi has come into the public eye recently and has been given the title ‘Rape capital’ of India. Whether it deserves this title or not is a moot point, there may be more deserving places in the hinterland, far removed from the public eye. But Delhi didn’t morph over night into an unsafe place for women, it has been evolving over a period of time. The apathy of the authorities can be fully blamed for this sorry state of affairs.
In the late eighties and early nineties I was doing my MS in Ludhiana, I used to frequent Delhi almost every month, visiting my friend Amitava Biswas ‘Bisoo’ who was studying in AIIMS. In those days it was the ‘Grope capital’.  Groping was rampant, especially in the public transport system, the buses. Like in every metropolis these overcrowded, bursting at the seams buses were rich hunting grounds for the gropers. Those hapless members of the fairer sex who were forced to use the public transport system had to put up with the indignity of being pawed. The co passengers were either mute spectators or appeared leeringly amused.
Then on the streets these perpetrators had honed this into a fine art. Me and my friend were once walking through a tony residential neighbourhood and were witnesses to this scene. A car was parked along the side walk and across the road two perpetrators were on a bicycle and waiting expectantly. One was on the saddle and the other seated sideways on the front bar. They were waiting and watching like hawks for a hapless victim. They did not have to wait for long for soon along came a young lady striding purposefully towards her destination. She was walking along the side walk but once she reached the park car, she had two options. Either to climb on the pavement and walk around the car from the pavement xc or walk around the car on the street side. She opted for the latter option easier option not realising the danger. As soon as she began to go around the car on the street side the two perpetrators got galvanised into action. They swerved in an arch across the road towards the victim. The one seated on the bar had his paws flaying all around. The timing was perfect so that the victim was squeezed between the car and the approaching bicycle. She however had the presence of mind turn towards the car exposing only her back. With nothing substantial to paw, the perpetrators swerved their bicycle back to across the road. The onlookers had a laugh, whether they were laughing at the victim or the
perpetrators it was difficult to tell. The victim nonchalantly walked on as if nothing had happened. This must have been pretty common place in this urban jungle.
The authorities should have taken stern steps to deter such behaviour, this naturally emboldened perpetrators like these to graduate from gropers to rapist and Delhi’s decline to being the ‘rape capital’ today.