Maternal Instinct

Wiping the sleepy eyes and looking at the rising sun through the window, Kashmi realized she was already late. It was getting tougher for her to stop worrying about her little baby at home and resist the urge to leave. But then, she knew she hasn't yest finished at work and might have to stay back until she's completed.

It's just one month since Kashmi gave birth to a baby girl. As a single mother with no one to look after, she had no other choice but to get back to work at the earliest. Following delivery, the day she felt she could move around without much difficulty, Kashmi got back to her routine. Had she chosen not to, she would starve and so would her newborn.

Every evening, as she left for job, she would leave the child with the old lady with whom she shared a small hut. The old lady, who once lived the life of Kashmi, would look after the kid until the mother took over and then leave to scavenge the near by town. In return, Kashmi was happy to share a part of whatever little food she could manage with the old lady.

In most cases, Kashmi is back home soon after the conical speakers of the nearby temple blurted out the ritual Suprabhatham. On reaching home, the first thing she would do was to put her sweet little baby girl to her breast.  

The sense of motherhood she felt as the baby suckled on those breasts, drowned her in a sense of well being and made her feel at the top of the world. This would help her forget all the hardships she faced in earning just enough to eat as much as she needed to nurse her baby.


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On this tortuous lane of life,
I serve all those baffled souls.
Staying witness en this route,
Let me warn you once or more.

Route that brought you until here,
Splits in two and takes you home.
Roads are not as plain as past;
Careful when you take your step.

Having traveled miles at ease,
This might look that simple too.
In your quest for perennial light,
Things are more that you must know.

Last Words - An Unfinished Deathbed Talk.

This is an excerpt from the diary entry I made on the morning after a busy duty, a few years back.

I'm about to finish my 24 hours duty. Will have to pull on till Dr X turns up and can return back to my quarters. Yesterday was hectic and not a single minute I could sleep last night. I had 4 patients in the ICU, 53 patients in the ward, 20 new admissions and 7 causality calls. God alone knows, how many hours it's going to take in handing over the previous night to Dr X.
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My dear diary, I'm sad. A patient admitted yesterday for close monitoring and evaluation in our FMW is no more. I know, this is not the first time we are losing patients. I have not mentioned about any of them after the first month of my clinical years. But this incident was unique and heart breaking.  

Last night, after my causality call at 12.05 am, I was walking through the corridor of Female Medical Ward (FMW) when I saw light in the last cubical. As I crossed the nursing station, the ward sister woke up from her midnight trance and joined me thinking I was on a midnight rounds.

Teachers and Tortures.

[This is a piece of writing that I found in one of my old notebooks. Though I wrote it in pain, distress and hatred, today, this teaches me an invaluable lesson as a budding medical teacher. Sharing it with you all  as it is. No offence for the words used. 
A note for the teacher in the context: If you haven't changed, and wish to change at-least now, do it, for you were a total failure then . Else stop teaching.] 

Rape - The Curse Of Our Day.


Was she belle for just then,
As she weaved her dream so fine?
If he cared to spare that  bleb,
Then it's life that trails her way.