RIP, Ravi Prakash!!! Passing away of someone, whom you have not even seen, met, knew, rarely has an impact. But his demise left a mark on me. Ravi Prakash. I was one of the 14100 odd twitter followers that he had till he died this afternoon. I followed him on Twitter for the fact that he was a journalist and had often made valuable inputs on several socio-political topics. His twitter bio also said, “Living with Stage 4 Lung Cancer”. For the last year or so, since I have started seeing his twitter posts, a majority of them was about cancer. But ironically, every post ended with a positive vibe, and you started appreciating this person for how mentally strong he is. I then searched more about him. From whatever information available on public domain, I knew that he was diagnosed with Lung Cancer at the age of 45, and that too of last stage when detected first. While initial symptoms were coughing, fatigue and body pain, his last post was just a day before yesterday when he described immense breathing difficulty. The last post ended with “Aage dekhte hain”. This person wanted to live for more, despite having so much of agony. In his first visit to Tata Memorial Hospital (TMH), he was told by senior doctors that it was a metastatic cancer and he hardly had 18 months left. He cannot be treated, rather only palliative care can be given to extend life with lesser pain. Since that visit to TMH in Feb 2021, he had more than 35 rounds of chemotherapy and had at least 700 tablets of targeted therapy. Just to have some more number of breaths, though with pain. Every 3 months, he had to visit TMH at Mumbai, all the way from Jharkhand where he lived. In between these 3 months, local doctors were his mainstay treatment. But amidst everything, he never ceased to live, merrily. While fighting with the deadliest of cancer, he travelled to Goa, Gulmarg, Sonmarg, Srinagar to have some last breaths of fresh air. In Mumbai, after OPD visits at TMH, his evenings were spent at Marine Drive, with golgappas and paobhajis. These could have been his favourites, I guess. He said in one of his posts, “I said thank you to cancer for allowing me some free time to dance at disco theatres in Goa”. In the backdrop of all these things, he knew and so did his family that he was to die sooner than later, with one member of family wiping tears of others. He had once said, “I do not want to die on ventilators. Allow me to live with family members in my last days.” Having read all these things about him on internet, I used to often check his twitter time lines to see how he is doing. It gave me comfort that he was surviving, though with difficulties. The last that I remember was his visit to America early this month for treatment. But his smiling pictures assured that things are not the worst. Suddenly this afternoon, a journalist had posted about the news of his demise. Since then, memories of all things that I had read about him, his pictures, the positivity that he brought, kept flashing in my mind. I never met him. I knew him only through his words on Twitter. I wish that he is now at peace having undergone so much ordeals in last 3 years. RIP again, Sir!!! Though short-lived, but life lived well. I will miss your posts on Twitter…

Thank you Prof (Dr) Pamecha Sir!

Dear Pamecha Sir, On 10.1.2023, during one of your daily rounds in semi-private ward (3017-02), you said to a patient, “You have a lovely smile”. That smile is of my father, and today is his 67th birthday. My father, Shri Narendra Kishore Sinha, has been a healthy man. Even the common illnesses that happen to most of us – cold, cough and fever, never affected him very often. In fact, I do not remember the last time he was sick. Of late, he appeared febrile. But the even thought that he could be ill never struck our mind. On 9.11.2022, he had fever in the range of 102 and above. In the last three decades, he never missed a chance to receive us at railway station whenever we came home. So even the high-grade fever was not a deterrent for him, and he was there at Patna Railway station at 4am on that day. He just had a paracetamol and was confident that he would get better in a few days. I impressed upon him to get the fever evaluated. During the course of evaluation, he underwent USG wherein one finding changed his life, for ever and forever. That finding was, “solid-cum-cystic mass lesion in right lobe of liver”. And then, our horrendous journey started. Between 9.11.2022 and 27.11.2022, our consultations ranged from a physician in Samastipur district of Bihar to senior Medanta consultant in Patna to a Hepatologist there to GI surgeon, Hepatologist, Onco-physician, Onco-surgeon, Pulmonary physician in Jaipur besides n number of online consultations. Not only were those consultations but also the subsequent medical tests – Blood tests, X-rays, USG, Endoscopy, CT Scan, PET CT, Dota Noc Scan – were unusual to a usually fit and healthy man. In Jaipur, we had a diagnosis – liver tumour. But the big question was, whether the tumour was resectable or not, considering its voluminousness and extent. As my sister and brother-in-law are doctor themselves, to arrive at a conclusion was even more difficult, and I owe it to their easy and wide access to opinion of expert doctors. And, then we met Dr Sahil Gupta Sir in Jaipur. During our one-hour long discussion with him, he cleared all our doubts, apprehensions, and we finally took the decision to go for surgery at ILBS Delhi. At our first meeting on the fourth floor of the old building of the ILBS premises, we found you affable. The way you immediately checked the PET CT Compact Disc (CD) and your first response was, “Resectable lag raha hai. We need more tests.” Then our journey at ILBS started. From 27.11.2022 to 10.1.2023, we had two stints there. One was a short one to get all the pre-operative tests done. And then the longer operative and post-operative stint. During our almost 40 days of stay there, it was your assuring presence that has kept alive hopes of not only us but also of so many patients who used to wait the entire day for your morning and evening wisdom during rounds. The battery of doctors who follow you, reignites hopes of patients, who were starting to feel “unfortunate”, as I overheard this word so many times during my stay as attendant there. That D-day on 16.12.2022, when you operated upon my father, and you said to me in the evening post surgery, “Tumour bada tha. Kafi blood loss hua hai.” The moment you saw me getting nervous, the way you changed the voice tone and said, “But, Everything went well. We will review him in ICU for few days”. Like me, there were many attendants used to stand for hours before ICU room, just to hear your assuring words that, “All is well, even if it was not”. As I checked in the discharge summary handed over to us on 10.1.2023, I saw my father had a lot of post-operative complications like right pleural effusion, intra-abdominal collection, surgical site infection and chyle leak, leading him to longer post-operative stay. My father, as he calls himself, vicharshil, used to ponder over all these complications, making it more difficult for him to come out of those surgical trauma. But you and your team never made us feel that things are not good, even when he was shifted again to ICU on 31.12.2022 night. Our new year started with father in ICU, but then the procedures conducted on him in late night of 31.12.2022 yielded positive results. I met him in ICU on 1.1.2023 morning and he said, “Better feel ho raha hai”. Finally on 10.1.2023 when you advised for my father’s discharge, complimenting his smile, he was joyous as he craved like a child to come out of the hospital. He called us some six-seven times that why there is a delay in the discharge process, and the resident doctors said, “His case necessitates longer discharge summary and is taking time”. Today on his birthday, you have given him a new lease of life. My family and I express our sincere gratitude to you and the battery of doctors at ILBS Delhi who have taken care of my father so well in those troublesome days. Thank you, again. Sumit S/o Shri Narendra Kishore Sinha (Patient ID: 297558)

Etched on her memories, always!

 He was a true gentleman. A man of stature, he personified dignity. Another reason for admiring him more was the fact the he lived his life to the fullest, till he lived.

Yes, he is no more now. Last year, when we were lighting lamps on Diwali, his family lost their light due to Covid.

As time is the biggest healer, his memory started fading away. These days, we have become so busy in our daily chores that we have started to forget ourselves, let alone anyone.

I met his wife yesterday, first time after his demise. I was flabbergasted after seeing her. Having met her two-three times earlier, last time on their 25^th marriage anniversary, which they celebrated with all pomp and show, I could not believe my eyes. After a span of almost half-a-year post his husband’s untimely death, time has not healed her. She looked so feeble, in stark contrast of what I saw her last.

She asked her to come inside her home. My colleague and I followed her instructions. Just as we began our conversations, she could not hold herself and burst into tears. There was silence all around, for a while, and this while was longer. I guess, our organisation’s identity badges must have brought back his memories. Tears are words, the heart cannot say.

The last time I met her was when all was well. They were a happy family of two-plus-two. A teacher by profession, her aura had all the charm. Her enthusiasm was contagious. She had everything, she still has…except him. Everything went murky, because of the biggest pandemic of this century so far – Covid 19. Initially, it was hard to believe that this virus could reach us too, but then gradually it inflicted majority, and became a part of human cytology.

But then, he caught the virus. How, When, Where, nobody has the answers. His condition kept on worsening, from home quarantine to local hospital to ventilator of the state capital’s largest hospital, he saw it all but all in vain. He bade adieu all of us on Diwali. While the city celebrated the night with lights, his family lost their brightest light in day time.

He and I worked in the same office. Our last conversation was, “Sir, I shall be meeting you after seven days only as the boss has rejected by 15-day leave application”. We never met afterwards… I still miss him!

How an untimely demise affects a family, I saw last night. Somebody has said it right, “Death ends a life and not a relationship”. Their relationship will continue forever and ever. I do not know my words will reach her or not, but I wish she becomes a shadow of what she was, as everyone including the demised soul wants her to look that way, and not this way.  

 

 

Bunk-ing the Bank-ing!

Instance 1: A not-so-young-not-so-old man was ‘pained’ by our Branch, his only agony was: Maine beti ke delivery ke 15 din pehle form jama kiye, delivery ho gayi, lekin khata nhi khula.

And yes, his sufferings were more than the labour pain of his daughter, at least that can be gauged by his behavior.

Instance 2: Some days back, this time an old man was at loggerheads with me. For, I was not accepting UID acknowledgement copy as KYC proof of his 5-year-old granddaughter. Senior colleagues joined me in making him understand but his decibels were louder than all of us together. “Press walon ko launga, tab dekhte hain kit um kaise nahi khata kholte ho.”

Instance 3:  Two days ago, there came a sarpanch of a nearby village. His punch in tone said all, but in vain. The absence of original documents for checking allowed us to say no for account opening. “Kal Gehlot ji ke sath jab stage pe khada hoke bolunga tab dekhna….isi bank mein, isi branch mein kal tak khata khulwa ke rahunga.”

In 99% cases, the word ‘scholarship’ is the reason behind the fights. The word ‘scholarship’ had always evoked some respect from me. Though I never got one, I looked up to my friends who always kept it as a prized possession.

But, like several things changed during the last one year, so did the meaning of many words, like ‘scholarship’. Now even if you are a Xth fail student, you get a scholarship for the next class. And if you fail again, you are now eligible for a cheque of ‘Berozgari Bhatta’.

I urge Mr Politician to not use the word scholarship, just for the sanity the word has.

Individuals have become pay-cheques these days. Now, the sheer pleasure of a newly born baby in a family is not the only reason of happiness. A cheque for delivery supplements that. Bring more babies to the world, get more cheques. Never mind, we will not cross China before 2030, a study reveals.

There are cheques for delivery, cheques for scholarship, cheques for dress stitching, cheques for ‘Berojgari bhatta’. You have every reason to be a ‘berozgaar’ now. You just need to be an individual to get a cheque.

No Indian institute figures in the world’s top 200 educational institutions. Who cares that?

I asked for English Newspapers in Gangapur City- the place of my posting. They looked at me as if I asked for a Meat Masala from a Puja shop in Rajasthan.

Finally I understood. Now every morning, I am greeted by Dainik Bhaskar. The page no. 3 and 5 boasts of Rajasthan’s Congress government works under the banner “Unse pucho jinhe fayda hua”. That always gives push to my adrenalin, as it is the prelude to some other fights.

And amidst all this sufferings, you will find a banker on the passive side. Some 2000 kms away from home, finding it difficult to get two meals a day, he has to keep everyone happy, as there is a Happy Room somewhere which needs to be Happy for his livelihood, irrespective of how unhappy he himself is. The only satisfaction he gets is on 27^th or 28^th of every month, where a smaller five-digit CR figure on 450 screen of his Bank’s software, a result of the entire month’s shouting, fighting, disapproving…

Two months into my new posting, I do not proclaim myself ‘a relatively calm person’. Like the inevitable disease for a Banker, I am getting close to BP, Hear Ailments etc etc and it is still PROBATION, not confirmation.

I do not have regrets that as an individual, I have seized to grow. After all, I am doing a ‘job’. However, I feel bad for this country. I feel bad for schoolteachers, who are busy filling bank account forms. I feel bad for country where individuals have mere become ‘pay cheques’. We need to understand that a Rs 1000 or Rs 1400 or even Rs 25000 cheque will not help us the entire life. After all we are worth more than a ‘pay cheque’.

First-hand from the field!

Last week, I was provided with an opportunity to accompany one of my office colleagues for agricultural inspection. What began at 11am that day turned out to be quite fruitful at the end, and interesting too, in all aspects.

It was a great learning experience indeed.  Travelling to the interiors of Rajasthan was revealing as we came across state tribals including Gujjars who are known for their apparent detachment from the societal mainstream.

We began the day with meeting one of the high-profile applicants of Kisan Credit Card (KCC). He owns a garment shop in the heart of the Tehsil Atru where he lives and also looks after the agricultural land that he has been inherited by his forefathers. For him, the money that he will get as KCC loan will most probably help in spreading his garment business. Let’s not delve deep into the rules that say a Branch Manager has to ensure that the money resulting out of KCC loan should be utilised for agricultural purposes only.

At around 1pm, we knocked the door of another client. The applicant was not there but his 80-year-old mother welcomed us with utmost modesty. My senior officer and I had a chat on the viability of the loan as the applicant kept juggling from one place to another. But our talk resulted in a resounding yes.

In this bone-chilling winter spreading across the North India and some parts of West India, the afternoon time is a big relief when one can dare to see eye-to-eye with the sun. (Reminding me of dialogues between SRK and AB from the film Mohabbatein).

We completed the formalities there and took the signatures of two villagers for creating the opinion-report of the applicant. While we were contemplating to go to another village, I suggested my senior to have lunch first in the applicant’s terrace. Honestly, I wanted to enjoy the afternoon and the direct sunlight. 

The other officer was reluctant to use space, but the motherly treatment of the old lady made it all easy for us. She offered us water and advised us to sit on the chowki kept at the terrace. We had lunch, some conversations and we moved out, conveying our big Thank You to the Amma there.

While we were penetrating more into the interiors of Rajasthan, we started discussing Rajasthan culture. There were three of us – the senior officer, driver and me.

I was amazed to know that the 18-year-old driver was married when he was just 3. We asked him if he had seen his wife. He said no. I asked again, “Will you seriously marry her?” He said yes, because if he will not, his father will abancon him. The driver added, "Papa ki ijjat ka sawal hai, shaadi to karni hi padegi usse."

Sir asked him, “Teri koi girlfriend hai”. He said chhe-saat hain. And interestingly one is a clerical cadre staff in a nationalised bank. Then he went on and said, "Sir driverri karni padti hai kyunki aajkal ladkiyon ke bade demand hain. Mere mahine mein saat-aath hazar unpe hi kharch ho jate hain.

We purchased guavas from the roadside of another Tehsil. Till date, I had always followed the basic rule of washing any fruit before before eating. But that day, I shunned all the rules for no reasons. I thought for a while to wash guavas, but then I did not, as I wanted to break free from the civilised world, at least for that day. 

We reached to our another applicant. It was 3pm-3: 30pm. The tiredness started seeming on our face. Here, we met the applicant who was not mentally 100 percent sound. One of his close acquaintances took his signature on the form and submitted to the bank. The applicant himself was not even aware that he was applying for a KCC loan.

And, there is a legal reason behind his acquaintant doing so. The laws of Rajasthan say an SC can only sell land to another SC and an ST can only sell land to another ST. The applicant was an ST, so the other person who was an SC could not take possession of the land legally from the ST seller. So what the other person did was he purchased the land in the name of the applicant who is an ST and used it for mortgaging in lieu of KCC loan.

We met another applicant who had a share with his father in their agriculture land. The applicant forcefully took his father’s signature and applied for the KCC loan and wanted to use money for construction of house. We got to know this when we talked to other villagers there.

Then finally it was time to wind up the day. Till this time, my senior and I became friends as the former was just 5 years elder to me. He asked me how old I am. I said I’m 24. He asked me when I would marry. I said soon. He advised me to do it at the earliest to ‘enjoy marital life’. 

He cited his example of how he had five-six girlfriends but then he finally fell in love badly. He added how close he was to his girlfriend and how close they came to each other. But as we have been witnessing in Bollywood films, the groom's father wanted dowry and said a blatant no to his choice. He had to bow down and marry his father’s choice where money mattered more than the girl. But as he accepts his intimacy with his ex is adding woes in his marital life. 

For me, the day did not end with our journey. It kept me thinking of the plight of farmers that I had till now read in P Sainath’s stories. The driver, whose story is a reflection of our society where even today the child marriage is prevalent in most parts of the country. And Sir’s, where words run short of the feelings.

  

A champion, always!

Some years ago, I participated in a cricket quiz and came third among a host of participants. While the top two were awarded with costly cricket kits, the third prize was a book on Sachin Tendulkar, written by Lokesh Thani, one of his close aides. I still believe, and I rejoice even today, that I was the luckiest among the lot, for I came third. Had this not been the case, I would have missed some of the intrigue nuances in the life of probably the most successful cricketer ever born on this planet. When today, I come across many articles published in various newspapers on Sachin’s retirement, and that includes the one from someone as eminent as Sunil M Gavaskar, I am reminded of the various lines of the book because that takes me through the pain that the Little Master had undergone to be what he is today. The last few months have been newsy for stories on and off the ground. If V V S Laxman ‘forced retirement’ created ripples for wrong reasons, same could be said for the Mr Dependable. Even traditionally, we have never feted our champions with memorable farewell. I had heard of stories on how Indian cricket legends - Kapil Dev and Gavaskar – were treated during their final days on cricket field. As a simple cricket follower with basic understanding of the game, I do not want the same to happen with Sachin Tendulkar for everyone’s ‘emotional connect’ with ‘The Don’ of Indian cricket. If at 10, he was the best in Sharda Ashram School, at 40, his records take him to the topmost ladder in international cricket. The crests and troughs are integral part in the career of any sportsman and it is also true that Sachin had seemed patchy against England and Australia this year, but that does not mean that he has to answer every single time to his critics when he dons the pad. For hundredth hundred, the hullabaloo created by the media surely created some amount of pressure on him, and the thrust of this R-word seems writ large on his face now. Everyone knows that the Master is in the last years of his game and he would be history in another one year or so, but even then the noise on his retirement is too loud. With Indian cricket relying on the strong shoulders of talented young players like Kohli and Badrinath, it’s time for Sachin to enjoy his game without the additional ‘burden’ that he had carried in his 23 years of international cricket. And, should we not give him his dues for his service to nation. Yes, he deserves that even if he does not perform ‘according to his merit’ in the next few tests.

Over and over, again!

Three months from now, amidst ‘musical montage’ of the Indian Premier League, the Australian tour would be another ‘forgettable series’.
A Murli Vijay or a Paul Valthaty would come and hit a ton in the 120-ball format and the likes would give us reasons to cheer.
And, in that high-decibel chaos, we would forget what Rahul Dravid said in his ‘Bradman Oration’ real cricket — Test match.
That compels me to put forward a serious question: Are we nurturing a bunch of cricketers who practice lofted shots in nets or we help them stick to cricket basics and let them play a ball according to its merit?
I remember an interview of an IPL centurion, who emphatically stressed on hitting ‘big shots’ in nets during his preparations of IPL matches.
Though, he was successful in a particular IPL edition, but with that India lost a player, who has good enough merit to be a Test opener.
Now, why this question? Take an example of the ongoing India-Australia test match at the SCG.
When the Day 1 came to an end, there was a divided opinion. Optimists believed that India would take couple of quick wickets early on Day 2, and pacers would then restrict Kangaroos to a score not more than 250, conceding a lead of just 50 odd runs.
A section also had faith that SCG would turn to an Eden Garden and some very, very special innings might either level the series or turn it in India’s favour.
On Day 2, the outcome of the test cricket became evident, probably from the very first ball. India were lucky on just one ball out of 540 deliveries they bowled. The scorecard resembled of many occasions of 2007 series. Ponting dismissed by Ishant. The difference was, by then, the Australian right-hander had done his job and not only that he along with Hussey made Indians look ‘awry’.
Two records were noteworthy. Ponting scoring a ton after two years and Clarke hitting his maiden double-century. The big Australian trio of Ponting, Clarke and Hussey were said to be out of form before the series began, but experience played its part and they are now the team saviors.
India, on the other hand, had been preparing well. Says a statement of Dravid from his Bradman Oration, “We have come here more experienced, better prepared.” But, Dravid himself had, after a great 2011, tough times dealing with seaming deliveries.
Except Sachin Tendulkar, who despite of so much hullabaloo over his century’s century producing the best possible bat-ball sound, no Indian batsman looked comfortable.
If Australian selectors were bold enough to pick Ponting over inexperience, despite the noise, their Indian counterpart went a step ahead and dropped Harbhajan, who had been consistent with his off-spin against Australian.
Another point, whether the Virat Kohli or the Rohit Sharma, whom we call Indian cricket’s future, are also loosing their batting charm in the media din.
Can we not have a fast wicket at the Bangalore-based National Cricket Academy, where players will practice ‘chin music’? Or, will it be the same story over and over, again?
Many foreign tours will come and we will have the same mixed feeling of optimism-pessimism. Heart would like to see India on the winning side, while the brain would say we are incapable of that.