Life is like that

Some months later after their their fourth son was born, my family moved from a small town (maternal grandparents hometown, Vriddhachalam) to a city, Chennai in 1962 where the paternal grandparents lived. Things became hard as our father moved back to the city, Bombay where he worked. The rest were left in the care of his parents. My paternal grandmother was not nice to say the least. One time my mother stopped eating for five days and threw up bile. My dad’s BIL gave some money to my mom every month. We were given change to buy some snacks from a restaurant which was diagonally opposite to where we lived separated by a road where the traffic was heavy, after we came back from school. But we couldn’t bring our snacks home. My grandfather sat on a cemented seat in the balcony watching people on the streets. Many times we ended buying and eating on the side streets and coming home.

Growing up,when I say that I was stung by scorpions at least three times and endured the pain until I got relief and in the process, the screams from me till my dad took me on his scooter in the middle of night to the Government Hospital left an impression of how my life was, when the 1975 floods in Chennai, India destroyed the little things we had as the flood waters came up to waist length inside the house and had to live through those times is not a memory you want to remember as we rebuilt our future. Walking long distances in the High School years to watch a movie and save the bus fares to have a cup of coffee during the intermission might look like not a big deal but it was to me. To be made to stand outside the classroom in High School because my uniform pant was faded and not to the liking of my class teacher who didn’t understand the socioeconomic situation where I came from was difficult to swallow. To be left out on school picnics because you couldn’t afford to pay for the trips was disheartening to say the least. Representing your school cricket team and not to have the shoes or able to wear the white pant not bought for you( shirt was also white but it was part of the school uniform) and had to get your dad’s old pants altered to wear it for the games and borrow shoes from your teammates was humiliating. When I was asked to wake up at 5AM because I ran a fever and was given the bus fare to go to Government Hospital, to stand in line outside the gates which were opened at 7 AM, and caned by the police for standing not in line properly was not easy when my immune system nor the physical strength was in great shape. When one had to taste pickles as a side dish and get to be shocked by a iron box if you didn’t hold it properly was not a life I dreamt of. Exchanging shirts with your brothers to their dislike as there were no choices was not easy to live with. Buying shoes from the cobbler who made thrown away shoes by the elite class look like reusable- the only difference was that the sole was replaced by a tire part- and throughout my Medical School I couldn’t cross my legs for fear of being exposed gave me anxiety and panic attacks. If they were shameful then, it is not so now. I have traveled the distance to look back and know that the past has disappeared but the memories have not faded.

Without those experiences, how would I have learned to empathize to the fullest extent, a quality that I was able to hand over to my kids who never experienced but understood well with conviction. How would I have walked the streets of Chennai during Medical School years and collected thirty gunny bags of old clothes to be given to the flood victims of Trichy and Nagapattinam, in the State of Tamilnadu or raise funds from my classmates for a Northern State (Bihar). How would I have understood that the attenders/Techs in my Anatomy Hall came from the rock bottom of the society and went on to provide them with enough coupons for them to have a simple bite in the canteen during the Medical exhibition when I was the class representative. How would I have taken the pains to collect funds for a teenager with tetralogy of fallot who had an appointment with Dr. Debecker in USA but didn’t have the means to travel. I also helped him to get a job by appealing to the Governor of the State ( with the help of my classmate in Med School whose dad was an ADC to the Governor). My experiences grounded me to look down before I looked up and lend a hand to those who needed it.

As I look back, I got help for my patients whose children were brought to my clinic in dire circumstances, took them by auto, a three wheeler taxi and paid for it and got them admitted in Children’s Government Hospital in the middle of night. I convinced the Pharmaceutical companies to give enough samples to distribute to the poor as they wouldn’t have money to buy the prescription. Some of my patients who did not have the money to go to a private hospital in situations like a heart attack or a stroke and wouldn’t go to the Government Hospital as they believed that I was their last hope was difficult to handle. I risked paying for their stay in Private Hospital by guaranteeing the payment in full and using my influence to push them to accept without paying initially a deposit was not easy. I did end up paying sometimes.

I believe that my life story can be an inspiration for an ADD kid to dream and succeed, for someone to start to think and wish, even when it appears to be a doomsday scenario. When growing up is not easy and with no end in sight, I believe it can help someone of how to start dreaming. That life is not a bed of roses and one gets to feel the pain from the thorns to be reminded that it is part of how life is and when life is at a low, how not to forget the rose is something that I want people to remember.

To end, I am who I am. I am not ashamed of who I am. Exposing my vulnerabilities gives me the strength to let people know that I have the courage to face the future and the experience I had helped me to shape who I have become. And I am proud of my life for having had all those experiences. For someone to look the other way because it makes them uneasy is like asking my childhood and adolescent life to be wiped off because someone is uncomfortable to hear or read. I just couldn’t do it even when I left this country I love when I had the opportunity but refused because this is who I am.