Category Archives: Movie

Gulabo Sitabo Review: A Feast Of Class


© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

When you want trivial and mundane, you hit the streets, but when you want class, you dress up first and look for the best place you can afford to go to.
To grasp the intonations of various emotions, the prosody of dialogue and the language of the eyes, the depth of thoughts behind the imagery on the screen is a rare feast for the fortunate to enjoy. Steve Jobs taught the world what it should want, rather than catering to what it wanted. Similarly Indian cinema has started moving away from the traditional, more often to loudly shock the audience, but at some other rare times to surprise them with a classic.
Gulabo Sitabo is such a surprise. I couldn’t help but write this, out of my field.

Once during my MD Medicine days, I broke down and confided to my professor Dr. P. Y. Mulay that I am not able to digest the helpless inability to end the incessant suffering, the flow of patients is never ending, it continues in spite of whatever we do. He asked me about my icons. Of course one name among many (Einstein, Sant Dnyaneshwar, Mahatma Gandhi, Stephen Hawking, etc.) was Amitabh Bachchan, he had taught my generation the pride of being upright and the passion to achieve especially against odds.
My professor smiled and told me: “Have you seen that movie where he has a tumour and gets a convulsion? He has convulsed actually as a patient would! It is not easy, one has to observe, immerse oneself in the details. People may think it was just another bit of acting, but even medically his convulsion was nearly perfect. His body language is as perfect as his pronunciation and diction. This needs immense work. One has to accept a lot of pain to achieve whatever one sets out to achieve, that pain and suffering on the way are in fact the part of achievement. Only when you cross this negativity, you will be able to save lives, to end suffering of many. Those words changed my attitude forever.

Now, after about two decades, I got a chance to watch Mr. Amitabh Bachchan’s movie today on its day of release. The legend has grown beyond itself. His voice, his demeanour and his eyes make one realise how far away he has come from the iconic screen image(s) he had made for himself, to perform Mirza. He not only embodies, but appears to be enjoying every bit of being this mischievous old man.
One must imagine the difficulty in maintaining the doubly crooked curvature of Mirza’s (Mr. Bachchan’s character) back, the tilt on one side, the difference between movements of two legs while walking, the postural twist of neck and the difficulty of holding this all together while the face shows a spectrum of every emotion of an expressive old man. This tall man has, all through the movie, bent forward in lower back and then to speak to other characters, has had to turn his neck up. Try doing that (at your own risk)! The wet hoarseness in his voice and the breathless pauses between angry sentences are not only consistent, they underline his oneness with this role. Even the giddiness and falls are portrayed excellently, exactly as they happen in this age group. As he crosses all the bounds of expectations and anticipation, you start to understand why Mr. Amitabh Bachchan is beyond reviews. He probably enjoys acting far more than our opinions about it. Zen! He proves yet again in this film that he is far above any actor in commercial as well as non commercial/ art films in Indian cinema.

Mr. Ayushmann Khurana has played his confident yet frustrated simpleton so naturally that those who have come from poor families will readily identify with the defiant stance of a young man forced by compulsions of life without much money. Very talented and never dramatic.
Mirza’s wife, Begum, played by Mrs. Farrukh Jafar impressed with her nonchalant dialogue delivery.
Everyone else, especially Srishti Shrivastava has done their job really well, complimenting the major duo.

A word for the director Mr. Shoojit Sircar: this movie reflects a very courageous and strong will to overcome the superficial, glazed culture of fast paced but meaningless, noisy filmy clutter catering to a jaded social mindset. Instead, this is a classy feast for those who long for the art called drama, acting and visual expression with infinite colours, sounds, words, beats and silences, enhancing the effect of every moment, and meaningfully so. Not everyone dares break the cliches of dancing to the tunes of times (public), a rare few make a mark upon it.

This film is not for those who want fast and furious, item songs, or loud dramatic expressions of normal. Like I said earlier, dress up for class, open your faculties of perception of the subtle. If you understand the beauty of depth of an effort, the intensity of something so simple as an old man’s love for his possessions, you will thoroughly enjoy this movie.

I am not qualified to review or rate this movie. I am entitled only to express my gratitude for an extremely pleasant feeling of “not all is lost to cheap drama” that this film gave me. After the long lockdown and perpetual hospital stress, this film also reminded me how beautiful past can be, compared to the old age we will all meet one day. We need to reboot our perceptions or the world around us, and redefine our definitions of happiness and possessions. And yes, we need to learn also that we are still amongst icons who work hard to ride their passions, to rise to every challenge and win over it, defying all odds.

Waiting for your next hit, Mr. Bachchan, Sir!

Thank You!

© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

Amitabh Bachchan

Women’s Day and A Frightening Secret

Women’s Day and A Frightening Secret
©️Dr. Rajas Deshpande

A well respected senior, a social celebrity, walked in with his daughter. Cultured, proud people. Probably highly educated and rich. While he was richly dressed in a traditional Indian attire, she wore a saree. Many phone calls had told me since a day prior that he was very important, and that I must make sure he doesn’t have to wait. They sat down cautiously, the daughter in her late twenties looking at the floor.

“Doctor, my daughter is behaving strangely, she is not speaking normally with any of us, and seems lost since last two months. She has a lot of giddiness and has not slept for many days now. We have seen many doctors, done all the tests advised, but no one has been able to tell us what’s wrong. You see her and tell me if you can help.” Somehow the father was intimidating. I asked the patient her name. The father replied. I asked her about her complaints. He replied again. It is often very difficult to make a woman speak in the Indian scenario. I politely asked the father: “Could you please let her reply?”.

She replied in single words, mostly yes or no. She appeared to have given up. It is indeed tough to deal with such ‘mentally closed’ patients. I obtained her permission for a clinical examination and found nothing abnormal.

“Are you stressed ?” I asked what was inevitable now. ©️Dr. Rajas Deshpande

The father repied promptly: “There’s nothing to stress about, doctor. She works as a lecturer at a prestigious institute, we are quite well off, and although we want her to marry soon, she refuses to meet anyone. We are okay with that too, we are in no hurry. I dont think there’s any stress here. She just needs to be mentally strong. She has lost her will power”.

At this point the daughter looked up at her father, begging him to stop.”I have done whatever you asked. I came to every doctor you took me to. I am not weak. Please stop all this now, I will recover in few days”. I sensed something wrong here. I asked her if she wanted to speak in privacy and confidence, offering a nurse to attend instead of her father. Her father was visibly annoyed at the suggestion, and terribly surprised when she said yes. With a firm face, she said “Can I speak with the doctor alone for a few minutes, Baba?”. Her father walked out. ©️Dr. Rajas Deshpande

“Doc, I don’t know what to do. I am in a terrible situation. As you see, everyone is scared of my father, so no one tried to speak to me in privacy prior. To be able to trust you, I need your word that you will never tell my father about this discussion. If you cannot keep that word, it is best that I don’t speak with you about my problem”. This was a common request. A doctor’s first loyalty is to his / her patient. I reassured her that whatever she speaks won’t go beyond me, and also told her that she should be completely honest and open, that I was not here to judge her but to help her.

She paused, embarassed. The stress and shame of what she was going to say reddened her face. She sipped some water and took a deep breath.

“Okay doc. Five years ago, I was in love with a classmate of mine. He is from a well known politician’s family, and we were very close. We were planning to marry after a few years. He had alcohol frequently, but had promised me he would stop after marriage.”

She paused again, now tears in her eyes. “Please don’t misunderstand doc, but like all other lovers of our age we exchanged naked pictures and video clips. We also recorded some of our own, making love. As my father often checked my phone, I deleted everything immediately. I told him too to delete them, but apparently he stored them. After a few months I found out that his alcohol addiction had become worse, and he was going around with another girl, so I stopped seeing him immediately. He never cared, and he married someone his parents had chosen”.

“However, three months ago, out of the blue he called me and asked me to meet at his home as his wife had left him. I refused. Now he is threatening that if I do not meet him he will upload my nude pics and videos on the internet. Their’s is a very strong and rich political family, I know he can do anything and get away with it. You just met my father, you can imagine his reaction to this. My family is proud of me, but they will never accept or forgive me for what I have done. I feel ashamed, but there’s nothing I can do about it now. I am loved where I work, my students look up to me as a teacher. All is on the verge of being lost for me now. I feel like I should permanently disappear. I don’t know what to do” and she let out all the sobs she had held for months.
©️Dr. Rajas Deshpande

This wasn’t new to me. While virtual exchange of ‘love’ in form of nudity and self recorded sex between couples is a reality of current times, it strongly contrasts with the social preparedness for it. Our society is not only orthodox, but shamefully, violently critical of anything that offends their cultural tastes that vary from family to family. An exchange of such nudity between couples in love is their personal choice and preference, no one should feel offended by it. However the dilemma of its correctness arises when situations of such blackmail as mentioned above create catastrophic consequences.

Many women (and I am sure even men) face threats of their privately exchanged nudity being exposed. This rampant blackmail that extorts anything from money, sexual favours etc. to various other compulsions are a nightmare turning into a reality now. Although the cyber-crime cells admirably track down the culprits, the victims still go through a lot of humiliation till then. Many victims do not know where to get help, and women’s organisations, NGOs need to reassuringly come forth with plans that ensure complete privacy and confidentiality of the sufferer. What offends most is the callous allegations of cheapness, wrongdoing , shame and derision with which our society criticises the victim. Some people and many in media actually take a perverted interest in exploring private nudity and sex, as if looking for certificates of their own piousness in someone else’s ‘moral adventures’. ©️Dr. Rajas Deshpande

I told my patient that we could help her, and handed over the case to a female counsellor who is well versed with such cases. Although she has proper connections in the cyber crime department, usually this is not required, as the threatening cowards usually come to their knees oncethey know that the victim has someone’s support. The last I heard, the matter is resolved.

Stronger laws to respect privacy, stronger punishments for those who use such threats to their ex-lovers and a social revolution to accept the realities of today and reassure the victims rather than shaming them are essential. A complete ban on reporting of such cases as “Spicy News”in media is awaited.

On this Women’s day, I humbly bow to the higher gender, the mother and the sister, the wife and the best friend called woman. Only what a man learns from a woman makes him the man that he is, and in that, she is the teacher: of patience, of modesty, of hard work and sacrifise, and the soul of true love.

©️Dr. Rajas Deshpande

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P.S.
Partly Imaginary story.
I truly respect a woman’s freedom, and her ability and right to defend it. My views above are to express that respect. I am not a socio-cultural legal expert and certainly not a moral judge. Never mean to offend anyone.

Doughnuts, Laddoo, Anyone?

© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

He was so cute and plump as a child, that everyone started calling him “Laddoo”. Soon this became his name. His parents were both hyper-educated, and both owned google browsers, so they studied about parenthood in-depth every day, and decided to provide Laddoo with the best parents and upbringing. They had many fights about how to do it right, but they took care that they never ever fought or argued in presence of Laddoo. They never raised their voice in front of him. Laddoo therefore grew up thinking that any arguments, disagreements or raising of voice was so uncivil and wrong. In a calm, disciplined home, he was being given the best of parenthood as suggested by the best parenting websites in the world.

Laddoo’s parents took care that he could only eat the most fresh and clean, organic food. Laddoo was proud that he did not eat garbage like other children of his age. He often envied those who could eat spicy, oily roadside food, especially the panipuri, kachori etc., but he remembered what his mom-dad had told him about the bacteria and viruses in such dirty food. So he never ate anything like that, but he started developing anger towards those indisciplined kids who could eat and digest anything they wanted. In the midst of beautiful, clean plenty, Laddoo started growing up resentful of everything around him. © Dr. Rajas Deshpande. At home though, Laddoo was always a prince. To encourage free thinking, his parents had decided never to shout at him or punish him. They chose only logical, scientific, calm explanations when he was wrong. Once a maid-servant who was cleaning their home shouted sarcastically at Laddoo: “You call yourself a grown up, can’t you keep your clothes in a little order?” Laddoo’s mom was shocked, she fired the maid immediately. “Such ignorant, stupid illiterates! These slumdwellers have no idea how to raise children!” she commented, patting Laddoo on his head.

“You are stupid, Mom, you and Dad both!” Laddoo shouted, “Why do you stay in India with such people around?” His mom was so thrilled to hear this, that she immediately WhatsApped Laddoo’s words to her friends’ group, adding “Laddoo has become so mature now, he’s speaking exactly what I think sometimes. I am so proud!”. Laddoo was pampered more. All that he wanted was being made available. If he did not get what he wanted, he would throw a tantrum, accuse his parents of cruelty, and write about his parents in his famous blog “Parents and Children’s Freedom”. He had many followers. His parents oozed with pride when they referred to their Laddoo as a “Child Celebrity Author”. His proficiency with cellphones and gadgets was their pet boast.

The thoughts that “I can be wrong, someone else can be better than me, someone else can grasp better, be more intelligent or successful” never crossed Laddoo’s mind. “What I think must be the final word” became his perpetual attitude. If at all anyone was successful in proving his mistake, Laddoo would immediately state how some fault of his parents, teachers or friends led him to commit that mistake. He freely used words that scared elders: abuse, violence, childhood trauma etc. This would usually hush up the matter, and Laddoo always kept on convincing himself and others that everything good that happened in his life was solely due to his own heroic efforts whereas everything bad that happened was the fault of someone else. His parents did not want to ever shake his self-confidence, so they never made an effort to correct him.

Once Laddoo spoke arrogantly and then argued rudely with his class teacher. She was so upset, that she scolded him in front of the class, called him stupid, and gave him a punishment of standing for an hour till the class was over. After returning home that day, Laddoo complained of severe pain in both legs and giddiness. He was taken to the best child specialist, then a neurologist. “There’s nothing major, please take him to a counsellor” they were told. © Dr. Rajas Deshpande.

“Indian doctors really cannot understand a thing” said Laddoo’s father, and sent his reports to Laddoo’s aunt in the USA. The experts there commented that the child may have suffered a mental trauma due to the scolding and punishment by his teacher. Laddoo’s parents immediately filed a police case, wrote blogs against the school and the teacher, and then also complained to the school about the teacher with threats of legal prosecution. It was only after the teacher and the school apologised to Laddoo, that the cases were withdrawn, and his pain and giddiness improved. No teacher ever scolded Laddoo throughout his career thereafter.

Now Laddoo is heading a major company in California. His useless, old parents live in an old-age home, pretending to be happy. They believe that their beloved Laddoo does not see them regularly because of their own parenting faults. They cannot express this to others, they just tell people “He is extremely busy”. Laddoos parents also truly believe that his success in grabbing a great job is the highest achievement of their life.

Laddoo does not have any friends. He only has drink-n-game partners in luxurious clubs. His first wife left him long ago (“She was ridiculously orthodox, she wanted to grow up kids and all”). His second wife owns a company in Washington DC, they meet twice a year. Both of them tell people how they are victims of childhood traumas., especially when they fail competing with those “unruly, ridiculously happy” colleagues. They have decided never to have children so as to compensate for their childhood traumas, bullying by friends, teachers and parents etc. “We cannot afford time for such traditional lives” they mutually agree. They believe, understand and cover each-other’s lies so effectively, that they find it difficult to grasp why others around them cannot accept those.

Laddoo does not like anyone arguing, asking him questions. “Geniuses like me do not owe an explanation to anyone” he says, often freely quoting the likes of Newton, Einstein and Steve Jobs. No one really wants to interact with him now a days. Just as people avoid the spoiled brats of rich fathers, knowing that they are beyond any resurrection, they avoid Laddoo too. © Dr. Rajas Deshpande.

“Thay are all jealous about me, my genius, my success” Laddoo thinks. His wife agrees. Both of them spend their time at home and work blaming the whole world, showing people down, being bitter to the happy ones, and repeating the stories of how they suffered in the past, how they struggled through those imaginary problems and how heroic they have been to reach where they are now. They compliment each other like the two halves of a doughnut.

I meet such Laddoos and doughnuts (men and women) everywhere now a days. They are frequent among Doctors, Patients, Engineers, Lawyers, Businessmen etc., but also very common in big offices, major posts in the governments and managements, professors, judicial offices, ministers and even among rulers.

Do you meet any?

© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

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“Alive Or Dead?”

(c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

“I saw the news myself. The doctors declared her dead. They took her home. In a few hours, her son noticed her breathing, they immediately took her to another hospital, where she became conscious. Doctors are absolutely careless now a days. All doctors and hospitals work for only money..” the hefty dark man with a large moustache was telling this story loudly to a group of about eight people sitting around him, three of them quite pretty, young and attractive.

“Yes,”replied another, tall and fair, but with a shrill voice: “Doctors have become butchers now. My friend’s father suffered a head injury, and was dead on the spot. But the doctors told us he was alive and kept his dead body on the ventilator for five days, saying that his heart was beating. All for money”.

I was sitting in the cafetaria of our hospital, it was nearly ten at night. I had just attended a call for a patient of convulsion, in the recovery room , where patients are kept for a few hours after major surgeries. . The patient, who had had fits since childhood,had presented with heart failure due to a defective heart valve, and had undergone a major heart surgery to replace the valve just two days ago. He had had another fit. The cardiac surgeon Dr. Ramnath had personally called and requested me to rush and assess the patient. He was quite worried, like most surgeons are after major surgeries. After making some changes to the patient’s prescription, I called up and informed Dr. Ramnath. He was relieved “Thank you, Rajas. Will you please wait in the cafetaria? I would like to have a coffee with you” he had said. (c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

That’s why I was waiting in the cafetaria, as usual my back towards the world. The group sitting behind me probably wasn’t aware that I was a doctor, or likely had chosen to ignore it.

In the next ten minutes, there followed many anecdotes by various members of that group: that allopathic treatment is costlly yet useless, all doctors are sold to the drug companies, that humanity has vanished from the medical profession, etc.

The most beautiful sign of growing up is not reacting to a certain type of people. I practised it, although rattled with all that I had heard.

Dr. Ramnath walked in. His trademark fast pace and smiling face brightened the small cafetaria.

“Hi, Rajas, sorry to keep you waiting. Much obliged that you could come. I have just seen him. Oh Hi..!” he said, noticing that two people from the group stood up.

“Namaskar doctor! How is our patient? ” asked a person with the moustacheo.

“He is quite stable now, all is well. I will shift him out tomorrow if everything is okay” Dr. Ramnath said.

“Then why did he have a fit? Why didn’t you tell us that could happen?”asked the moustacheo. He had found a gentleman, polite, highly educated doctor replying his questions courteously, this was his chance to misuse it to impress the three PYTs in the group. (c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

Dr. Ramnath’s smile vanished. “I had explained to the patient’s family. May I know who you are?” he asked to the moustacheo. Even a surgeon has limits to the misuse of patience.

“I am patient’s father’s friend” he replied, his voice on an offended backfoot.

“Please see me in my office by making an appointment”Dr. Ramnath told him.

We went over to another corner of the cafe and ordered our mutual favourite Italian Roast black coffee. (c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

Two weeks later, the patient came to my OPD for adjustment of the fits medicine. The moustacheo came too. The patient had recovered magically, now living a new life. I told the family so.

The moustacheo was not yet satisfied. He asked many questions. I had most answers. At the end of it, I asked him what he did.

“I work as a commission agent in property deals” he told me.

“If I may ask, how much are you educated, and in which field?” I asked him.

“Oh I left school after tenth standard. Why?” He was offended.

“Can you google?” I asked him.

“Yes” he said proudly.

“Please read about ‘Lazarus Syndrome’” I told him, writing it down on a piece of paper for him.

There are many examples all over the world, where a patient’s heart stops functioning, and doesn’t respond to the usual measures of CPR / resuscitation, but automatically starts beating again after a few minutes, and the patient becomes conscious later. This is called the ‘Lazarus phenomenon’. It happens because of a complicated combination of chemical, electrical and physical changes in the heart, even many minutes after it stops. This has been reported more than 38 times all over the world. However, it is only in India that doctors are beaten up, hospitals vandalised, and the media earns crores by shouting poisonous about this headline. One state government even shut close an entire superspecialty hospital because of such incidence! (c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

On the other hand, if a doctor tries to keep the patient alive even when the brain has stopped functioning, or the heart is failing, then some of our less educated muscular bollywood heroes cry foul about the entire highly qualified medical profession, that “doctors are keeping dead bodies on the ventilator to extract money” and even slap doctors in the hospital on the screen, to impress their quality of box office. Maybe we must call these “Ëxperts of life and death” in media and bollywood to treat every patient, to perform operations, and even to certify every unfortunate death that may happen in some cases. It is because of this poison spread by these ‘pseudo heroes’ at the cost of the best doctors in the world, that even after the best outcomes at the cheapest rates, Indian doctors have to face the bitterness and wrath of our society.

Whether a patient is “Dead or Alive”? Everyone in India other than qualified doctors seems to know better!

(c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

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The Poverty Vow

(c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

Long day. Came home. Ritual steamy hot bath to wash away the hospital feel, followed by steaming hot dinner. Switched on jazz, and I picked up the pasta. Heaven descended upon my tongue.

“How perfect this moment is!” I thought, and that’s where I was wrong. The phone rang.

“Sir, 18 year old buy, had fever since a day, took some tablets, became unconscious, now comatose. Vitals are stable, although he is coughing occasionally. No past history significant. Poor family, cannot afford treatment. Father is a labourer. What should I do?”

“Get him into the ICU, intubate if required and stabilise. Arrange for an MRI”

“OK Sir, but Sir they don’t even have a deposit. They had first gone to the government hospital, but as they were not happy there they have come here”. (c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

“We will work something out. I am on my way” I replied.

In an hour, after examining the boy and seeing his MRI and other tests, we concluded that he had viral encephalitis. The standard medicines were started.

The boy’s father, an obvious poor slum dweller, was in a state of shock. The mother, sobbing, told me the history. I reassured them. When I explained the diagnosis and treatment they asked some questions.

“We don’t understand anything, we are illiterate and poor. Do anything Sir, Just save my son, Sir” the father folded his hands together. Private hospitals have a quota for free patients, but usually it is always overloaded. I requested the hospital management to please make this a free case, they accepted.

The next day, the child opened his eyes. On the third day he started responding. I was quite elated to have his mother speak with him. However, his respiration was still shallow, and blood presure very low. His heart rate was fluctuating due to the effect of viral infection. He was still critical. I spoke to his parents twice every day, specifically reassuring them. Poor patients must never feel that they are not equally cared for. (c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

That evening, as I attended my patients in the OPD, the patient’s father came in, requested that he wanted to have a word. He came in with six other people. None of them could possibly be poor, given their get ups.

“Yes?”I asked.

The patient’s father looked at the giant next to him. “You ask” he said to the giant.

The giant, chewing his gutkha, askked me “What’s wrong with his son?”

“I have explained them thrice”I replied, “he has viral infection of the brain. There’s a lot of swelling upon his brain”.

“How come he is not improving? His BP was normal when he came. He did not have any heart problems. Now you tell us his heart is not functioning well” asked another medical superstar with white linen and gold teeth. (c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

“Yes, this happens commonly with viral infections” I replied, feeling hopeless. How to teach complicated medicine to this pure- muscular class? I wondered.

“But you said he had infection in the brain. How come now he has it in the heart? Is the treatment wrong?” Asked someone similar among them, in a tone nastier than medical examiners.

I looked at the patient’s father. He was looking at the ceiling, deliberately avoiding eye contact with me.

“Listen, Sir”, I told them, “Your patient has viral infection, it has primarily affected the brain, but involvement or dysfunction of other organs is well known with such infections, this is not something new to us. We are on guard, dealing with the situation. Nothing is wrong about the treatment, in fact his brain swelling has improved, and he is conscious now. Ask his mother” I looked at her.

“I don’t know” she said, “we don’t find any improvement in my child. Nobody tells us anything”.

“Haven’t I explained you and his father patient’s condition every day?” I asked. They did not reply.

The white linen gold teeth spoke again: “We want a report. We want to show the case to another doctor”

That was a relief. I gladly wrote them a report. They went doctor-shopping all day. They returned next day. Almost everyone had asked them to continue the same treatment that we had advised, except some desperate non-specialist telling them to shift the patient immediately for a surgery at his hospital. Even our gold-toothed medical superstar understood that it was wrong! (c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

“We will continue treatment here only. But our patient must survive” came an open threat.

”I will do my best, but I cannot guarantee you anything. You may please transfer the patient under the care of any doctor of your choice” I told them.

“No no, you continue to treat him.But if anything goes wrong, we will file a police complaint. We will ruin this hospital”said one of them.

I am allergic to threats. I don’t allow them twice from the same source in my life. How could any doctor guarantee that there could be no complications? How could I say that the patient could not react to any medicine in such a critical condition? If every patient could have guaranteed improvement, what’s the need for a doctor?

“I am sorry, I am planning for a leave next few days. I won’t be able to see your patient. I have requested our management to transfer your case to another doctor” I told them.

There was a movie “Teesri Kasam”in which the lead character, at the end of the movie, vows never to help the character of the lead actress in the movie, because the very wish and effort to help her has shattered his life, caused him regret. Most Doctors are now being forced to take such a vow. Urban Poverty is not so simple and innocent in a hospital as it appears to the media and society. Whether it is the roadside rowdiness of slum dwellers who roam around with weapons or a maid’s drunkard husband in civilised society, we all understand the misuse of poverty status well anywhere outside hospital, but somehow when this happens in a hospital, the blame is automaytically pinned upon the hospital or the doctor.

But who among the vote-mongers will speak against the majority voting bank?

(c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande

Profit and Loss

Profit and Loss
© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

Case 1:
45 year old man. Many weeks of tiredness, then three days of fever, quack treatment. Developed convulsions, admitted in coma. Blood sugars over 500. The long term past sugar index is very high, suggesting he has had untreated diabetes for months. After stabilizing patient in few minutes, I brief the relatives about critical condition.
His brother asks: Why is his sugar so high? He never had sugar. Is it because of any of the medicines you are giving?
I explain them that he has had high sugars for long, the tests say so. Also that we are giving him medicines to control sugar.
The wife says: “We don’t know all that. I think some medicines have made him unconscious”.
When he was discharged recovered, they fought about the bills saying that wrong medicines had caused delay in recovery. They gave negative feedback because the bills were not reduced to their quotes. “We were duped, we lost so much money” the son kept alleging aloud. © Dr. Rajas Deshpande

Case 2:
Old man, 82. Lung cancer, under radiation. Two episodes of paralysis, diabetes, blood pressure, now has drowsiness since Tuesday. His son and daughter in law come to opd on Saturday evening. The old man needed immediate admission and MRI. I tell them so.
“What is your diagnosis?”, “Exactly why is he drowsy?” “Why admission??” “Exactly what treatment?” “What will be effect of the treatment?” and many such screwing questions (sometimes I wanna ask back: when will you exactly pee next?) later, they went home. In the interest of the life of the old man, I chose not to lose patience.© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

They come back two days later, he had become unconscious.
“Why, doctor, why? He was walking till Sunday” cried the daughter, angrily asking us. “Why can’t you make him conscious? It’s been two days”.
Not only the arrogant tone, but the open distrust was offensive. “What is the exact reason of his unconsciousness?” “When exactly will he become conscious?” “Exactly blah blah?” asked the son, as if he was a Judge, and the doctors were criminals.
I wanted to tell them exactly what they were and where they belonged, but refrained. Patient first.
The treatment was on. Three days later, the old man opened eyes. “He has always had a strong will power. We knew he would recover” told his daughter to us.
Upon discharge, they wrote very bad reviews because the bills were not reduced to their expectation.
© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

Both came for follow up later.
In both the cases, a few years ago, I would have made an effort to spend more time, compromise self respect and continue treating them. Not now. Especially when peacock-fame decision makers decide about the fates of specialist doctors. Now, I tell them to please follow up with whichever doctor they can trust.

What about the probable income from such patients? Let me quote a dialogue that only Mr. Amitabh Bachchan could have delivered, from a film ‘Trishul’ that influenced me much since my college days:
“Zindagi mein kuchh baatein faayde aur nuksaan se upar hoti hain, lekin ye baat kuchh log nahi samajhte” (Some things in life are above profit or loss, but some people don’t understand that)”.
© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

The Music Called Life

The Music Called Life
© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

“What prize do you want”? My father asked me after I finished my tenth standard exams well.

I was desperately awaiting that question, knowing him well.

“A Sony Walkman” I replied almost instantly. I got one, the most basic Sony model, and lost myself for weeks in the stereophonic effects, collecting songs and recordings that had best quality. Right from the scratchy sound at the beginning, made by the record player needle-tip on the record disc, to the realization of different soundtracks on right and left, with separate sounds of each instrument. One favorite hobby was to select and follow only one instrument from the whole orchestra throughout the song.

Besides the music of MJ, Madonna, Beatles, the Indian stereo effect songs were a pleasure too. Ye bambai shehar haadson ka shehar hai (Kalyanji Anandji) and Pag Ghungroo Baandh, Thodi si jo pee lee hai (Bappi Lahiri) had the best stereo effects from the headphone. Kishore Kumar, Lataji, Lionel Richie, Cliff Richard, and Bee Gees became addictions. The collection grew enormously.

A cousin returning from the USA bought himself a Bose audio system, I was 18 then. I remember arranging the exact angles of the speakers, all directed towards one single chair at the center of the room, then taking turns to listen to “How Soon Is Now” (The Smiths). The strong wish that I must own the best music system for myself, make a music room in my home dawned that day, and is still thriving within me.

Much later, on a birthday, returning after ward work, I found a huge parcel at my hostel door, and the watchman told me that a fan had left it there. I had told some friends how I loved “Experiencing music”. Opening the box, I found the most advanced 8 speaker Panasonic music system, the home theatre one. That was one of the best gifts I ever received. The effectiveness of listening to music as a treatment for one’s negative moods is beyond question. I feel that good singers , those healers of soul, are better doctors than many medical degree holders,as their love songs and happy songs cure many a sad minds. © Dr. Rajas Deshpande

Recently when I listened to great music all the night with a very precious friend, a beautiful soul who understands that each instrument and even the voice of the singer has a different expression, other than the lyrics, who can feel music imprinted upon blood just as I do, I realized what I was missing in life. With this friend, the hear beats of life have become stereophonically audible again to me!

Technology has started drowning music into sounds, taking out meaning to be replaced by sound effects, we have almost lost the appreciation of the intricate fineries of meaningful music. The true feeling of listening to music is much like being underwater, if at all to compare: unless you drown yourself in it, you don’t feel it right!

Talking to patients, students, colleagues, this thought grew into a major revelation: we are losing our fineries not only about music, but also about feeling out other people: near and dear ones as much as strangers, both can have so much more meaning than the “bodies and words” that men and women have become now! There’s so much beauty in almost every human being who dares to preserve individuality without either copying anything or looking down upon anyone else.

An alert, feeling, self-aware mind that dwells upon the here and now is the best song nature has ever sung to me: and also the highest state a human mind can achieve. Unfortunately, we are lost in the digital-technology jungle, and take pride in either losing ourselves, escaping or running away from ourselves, or searching ourselves outside our own conscious reality. © Dr. Rajas Deshpande

I have decided for now: that I want to live this music experience without compromising: I want to to feel every bit and piece of the music that life brings to me, through songs and their lyrics, through the rains and the sun, through eyes, touch and silence, and above all, the resonance that it generates within me.

Only Love can match the beauty of good Music.

For the music called life is never sad, and I want to always walk towards a happy inner peace.

© Dr. Rajas Deshpande

Bravo! Aarya Ambekar

Bravo! Aarya Ambekar

A few years ago, my mother would often call me and my kids to watch especially this cute little girl Aarya Ambekar sing in SaReGaMaPa. Sweet and humble, expert at winning hearts that she is, we all loved her innocent smile and super perfect ease in singing like a pro. Inspite of being a celebrity with lacs of fans, her humility is so natural that she herself messaged me that she loved to read my articles (her father DrSamir Ambekar is a mutual connection). A celebrity herself complimenting spontaneously is an unforgettable moment!

She has worked very hard from a very tender age to maintain her singing “Sadhana” under the guidance of her mother. Waking up at 3.30 every morning just to practice music for over a decade is dedication par excellence. No wonder she has won so many prestigious awards!

This singing wonder is now lifting a curtain to display her new talent: her movie “Ti Sadhya Kay Karte” releases tomorrow. Gruelling hard work has gone into the making of this film which directly relates to almost all of us through a delicate subject in our hearts: First Love.

I wish her the best and pray for immense success of her efforts with her team.

@aaryaambekar @tisadhyakaykarte