All my life I have thought..I don’t want to miss a thing was sung by Bon Jovi..just seems like his song.I’ll be 2 steps behind you was sung by Richard Marx.
Ok so the former was sung by Aerosmith and the latter by Def Leppard.I did’nt even know of Def Leppard until this year,inspite of wanting Love Bites to be our song whenever I becomes us…
Rightly guessed music is not my authority at all..things are so bad that in school when I was told that ACDC was alternate current direct current and R.E.M was random eye movement I felt compelled to believe it..because I did not know any better.
Oh and the funniest was when I met a group of people and we were driving around London.Apparently best of Def Leppard was playing and we were all singing to them.Me with the loudest blaring voice because I was having such a good time..Only for me to blurt out at the not so right time that I am not into rock music..Oh ya! I still see the horror,amusement in their eyes.
Ah well, so what if I don’t know who sang what?I am not band crazy or would’nt ever think of giving my arm out for a band( a guy once told me if they asked him he would would give his arm out), or dont wish to go out spending time energy money to go watch a band perform from the 13 hundreth row..Ok may be I am not so cool or not perfect like a guy once pointed..but I am glad that good music has touched my life….I am happy that my life is enriched.That I have enjoyed,sang hummed,danced to music.
It does’nt matter what packing the happiness and joy comes from or what brand it is….what matters is that you have welcomed it when it passed by..

HSBC..this is Anthony speaking how may I help, Dell customer service Shania speaking how can I help, Travel helpline Raju speaking, what journey would you like to make…
It totally cracks me up…especially the travel line centres that have a Indian telling me whats the best possible route to take at that particular time on some local English rail or bus route..The marvel of technology or wonders of out sourcing??.So thousands of miles away some young kid or whoever from my country is really running the show, for so many companies.
Its in the news almost every month, hmm not surprising Indians evoke a lot of comtempt in this part of the world.Thousands of jobs are lost here only because,India provides cheap labour.The locals blame the policy makers, economists,politics.But its a lost battle.Statistics prove that India provides the largest educated English speaking and computer literate population.The agencies also repsond to increasing work load faster, better and with more gusto.In all the entire credit goes to my fellow Indians..and there is a lot to be done if one wishes to beat that competetion.
Our biggest strentgh is the human resource!A world political leader once said to the tune of, If all Indians had to look in the direction of Pakistan and pee, the entire country would be flooded.Hmm I think we could do with a more productive chanelization of our man power.
I have come across a lot of desis complaining about it though.I know the biggest put off is the fake accent.
But I enjoy the fact that when I call..its a familiar voice, name, style of talking.I know..Ive made this toll free call to mera Bharat mahan.After the first few seconds of formality..I generally go,”Hey arent you in India?”..And there’s generally a “Ah! yes..arent you Indian too..I kinda thought so,you dont have a British accent.”..And I go..”But you have a good one!”..blush blush, smile, small laugh and then its small chit chat, good luck and good byes and all my work accomplished..way to go guys…HAIL the call centres!!!

I belong to the category of people who would’nt lift a finger to impress another soul.I am me..take it or leave it;is my policy.I might walk an extra mile for people I like..but thats it…I think laziness has to do it with more than anything.
But whole day before my mum arrived,I saw myself, cleaning, cooking, shopping, an extra class of yoga(my mum had warned me that she will disown me if I hadnt lost any weight )..all to be the perfect daughter when my mother arrives.I actually wanted to impress my mother..my own mother…
I was at the airport, not right on time but early..thats a rarity..but I was there alright.While waiting I knew exactly how mum would smile once she had spotted me, give me a huge hug, complain I have’nt lost an ounce of weight,though I am looking forward to all the goodies she might get me..so much for weight loss!!! and then we would chat away while I gorged on Indian sweatmeats.
I also thought of how she will react to my new abode,my landlords, and then in 2 days time she will be nagging me and we would be getting onto each others nerves.She will complain to my father and I will be calling up my best friend.
She was there, really happy to see me.We gave each other huge hugs like we had not met in years when only in July I was home.I called home to tell papa his precious woman was with me.We hailed a cab and started the drive home.We chated and continued to do so till the end of her trip.
In all that excitement she did comment that she thinks she can see me better since the fat is not all hiding me.It was’nt funny.
So she read lots of novels,enjoyed lots of bakery products,saw the gaurd mounting ceremony at Buckingham palace.I wanted her to watch a play here and…she made it very clear,since she is on a holiday..she is not going to cook or clean or do any such thing..and since she can already see how hard Ive tried to make an impression, she very willfully agreed to help me try harder.
The only evidence of my mum being around was the amount of Indian junk food in my room, and the loud snoring that was funnily enough not music to my ears..But I was happy, I felt warm,loved for, cared about,pampered and I had some one who tirelessly listend to my endless stories..yes guys….my mum was here.

 You know how some people make a huge impact in your life…You could have only known them for some time..few days may be..and yet you could have learnt a life’s lesson or two.
This was early this year..I was a wee bit late to start..I was’nt very impressed by myself and yet I was trying to sneak into the Stroke and rehabilitation unit at Worcester Park Royal Hospital.Trying to create the impression that I had got there five minutes earlier.I was going to be working as a house officer for 3 weeks and I was quite looking forward to it… Just then rushed past a tall fair bloke typical English attire..the long scarfs..I think European men carry it off the best.
By the time I found the front desk of the unit I was going to be working in..I met a similar looking…no I met the same guy who just brushed past me..Hmm so he was trying to create the impression of being there forever too..He was my immediate superior….We were both late on a Monday morning..Good..I liked the start.
After formal introductions..he showed me around.The 65 bedded unit , all old age, all going to die at some point, nurse led unit, we are just their pawns, we dont see all patients everyday,we dont do acute medicine because there is not point, dont even break your head over it;leave your ethics out of the door and what have you…
Ok so I wasnt sure about the patients but Toby definitely needed help here.We went about the days business and then he showed me the canteen and food shops and then took me to the library where he introduced me to the world of cheese and pickle sandwitches.So if anyone of you has had one of those sandwitches you know that the salty disposition of the cheese and the sweetness of that I dont know why they call it a pickle..is not the most complimentary to an Indian die hard fan of bedekar acchaar.That day was odd.
Next morning I was there early.I had the lists of all the patients and all of their profiles.I made my own list and added all the details we would need to make a plan of action.Of course Toby would have to lead the way..but I would be calling the shots.I didnt approve of his attitude, his frustration was not going to rub off on me.I was there to do a job and I would..come what may.
Toby challanged me at the task I had undertaken…I love challenges ..they drive me to work hard..and harder.I did accomplish what I had started out to do..But in only half of the patients by 6 in the evening…I had been there for 9 hours and I was only able to see one unit….I couldnt even think about the next.I hadnt had lunch.The nurses were very helpful.They kept telling me that only women care and can be true doctors.That it was fanatstic to see the compassion in me.That some of the patients hadnt been seen in like 15 days..That the notes were not complete,the plans werent enacted..that I was in a mess and I wanted to to go home.Toby just kept trouble shooting..asked me if I wanted coffee and…
He then took me aside..he knew I was on the verge of tears..he knew I had got more that I had bargained for and he..didnt want to help me..he had had enough of that system…
And then talked to me..I could see why he was frustrated.There was a lax in the attitude..the environment ..was given up and damn didnt I want to get out of there….Toby said he had tried but he didnt have the strentgh no more..he had no support.
I questioned his morality, his attitude, his authority. Boy did I know then how wrong I was about Toby.He sat down with me and asked me what I felt after day one.We discussed the shortcomings,the limitations. I tried to understand and take all that in.All the patients were end stage stroke patients who probably had no quality of life;either the families had given up or we had…. But the patients had’nt…couldnt Toby see that..I questioned him and he said he knew that he should be more proactive..but he could’ntt beat the system.
Coming from where I come from..we always have to beat the system…From then on began my questioning and urging and his complying…We decided to break our work load.I was his attitude and back up he was the brain storm.We started compartmentalising the patients..sickes vs stable..need to be seen..can say hi to…I started questioning the para medical staff in the hospital and started gearing up plans for all our patients.By day 5 both of us had seen all the patients, we had concrete plans for all of them, the OT Physio were mobilised, the jobs in the nurses books were all delt with and I think we had a working plan.Toby was pleased, I was ecstatic.
The consultants came for their rounds said hullo to all the patients,but some where I realised that there was a lot of politics in all of that.We werent just working against a bad system we were battling a war ..I cant even name the warriors of the war or the factions of it all..for want of political correctness….
But in all that..did Toby really stop caring, really stop doing what he believes he should have been doing as a good doctor….No..I will be so wrong to think that of him.
I will never forget that evening..One of our patients..John*..was getting bad to worse.He had come in for severe bacterial infection of his blood.The long immobility led him to have ulcers in his skin, he had had a stroke while in hospital and now his swallowing was going bad.His sister I think refused to have anything to do with him.The Gastro team..in view of his co-morbidity didnt think inserting tubes directly into his stomach was a good idea and he was getting grossly malnourished. We were losing his veins..couldnt get one to put a line in..he was so dry.What he needed was a tube down his nose directly into his stomach.We could give him water food medicine..Get him back to life.He had become so weak that his smile was just a twitch.
After all the so called experts had failed to insert a tube in, we were beckoned to do the honours.Its always funny when all else fails it becomes the responsibilty of the (that too junior most) doctor to make things right.Toby said I could have a go..but after seeing all the damage that had been done..I volunteered to help instead.My job was to help John* to swallow little bits of thickened water while Toby put the tube down the nose into John’s* stomach.I could see, 14 tubes and three hours later..Toby wasnt going to give up.But I did see his tears swelling up his eyes…I dont think he will agree to that…I do think the emotion was because Toby had seen John* during his good days.And in all that time Toby had been talking to John*, reminding him that he was a fighter, that he could do this and chatting with me about John* as though John* was just fine..We both knew he wasnt..But Toby wouldnt give up.He didnt want to fail me or himself but most of all he didnt want to fail John*.
We did succeed…John* was most patient…But that success didnt last very long.John gave up a few days later.And we lost him.I understood Toby’s mood swings that whole day.I think he even snapped at one of the nurses.You know how we tell that doctors should not get emotionally involved.I think thats crap.We all get involved.We just get good at pretending that we dont.I did ask Toby, why he had put in so much effort in John* when he knew the prognosis was rather poor.
He reminded me that..As long as the patient hasnt given up there is always hope to make them better,even if you have nothing to work with, there is always hope.Dont ever deny anyone of that.
I started spending more time talking to Toby, questioning his rationale about treatments, plans annd Medicine..I realised that being a doctor isnt just about knowing all the names of your patients on ur fingertips, having
good lists, being very organised, knowing the text book in out center.Its about attitude, confidence, confidentiality, morality trust.Its about being human.Its about doing what you can to the best of your ability,and not aspiring to do what you think you should, but cant.
When I was leaving he told me that I would make a good doctor and it meant a lot coming from him.He said I had what it took to be one.What he didnt realise is that just being around him for those few days I knew my life was enriched forever…Whenever I feel low or feel defeated..I often think of Toby..He made me realise that inspite of everything some where..there is hope….Thanks Toby!

*John: name of the patient has been changed to maintain confidentiality .

I was so happy when England won against the Aussies in the Ashe’s .The victories are not the only reason that the people of England are warming up to cricket..its the good looking blokes I can assure you.
Cricket is some thing I missed when I came to England in Dec’03..Its not only the only sport in which I actually know whats going on I have also been closely associated with in my college days.Hell I even played for my team in the finals..I do think it was the most embarassing moment for Prasannah when he fell a player short and I was the only one he could think of to add onto the team.We won and that day is one of the sweetest memories I have of college.
I took Mark to watch a cricket match at the Lord’s..yes folks The Lord’s..Home of Cricket!I was excited because I was finally going to see the place every cricket fan would like to visit..Just the aura of it..and Mark was excited because he was with this Indian who was excited about cricket and he was hoping will be able to shed some light on the game and help him make sense of it.Ha..Ha..Come to mama I thought.
I gave him an over view of the game, explained the score board and put across some definitions and laid out the meanings of the most likely gestures going to be used by the umpire..All that over the very English lunch at the Alan Club restaurnt.Oh how very posh!!!
So it was finals of the Cockspur club between Green Barnt and Horsham.Horsham batted first.Lost their first wicket at 64 which was a caught out….made a total of 220 and in all that Mark managed to appreciate fours, sixes, clean bold,caught out, leg before wicket, no ball, wide ball, byes, leg byes, spinners, fast bowlers.
He also began to realise that there was a lot of prestiege issue here and everybody appreciated a good ball and a fantastic shot.He too warmed upto cheering every four..six..half centuary..I was just happy that he seemed to enjoy a game that I have grown up watching.That it runs in my blood to support my team no matter where I am..and especially pray if we are playing against my friendly neighbours.
He was most amused by the lunch break and tea breaks that the players got..Who drank tea in between a game..English definitely do Mark..Americans just dont get it do they?
I told him now the real excitement would be to see the players chase that score..But we took our own break.So went around the grounds..the gift shop.I bought him a cricket rules book and myslef some gorgeous postcards..I might send them over to all the cricket die hard fans I know back at home.
The chase was rather slow in the begining..bringing a sort of boredom to the game..no runs no wickets..a lot of hooting and a lot of betting..Ok that was the first time I saw betting..but..it was going on..
3 wickets down, the fielder that we were all picking at in the previous innings came onto the picth and actually surprised us..Surprised a lot of us..Coz he stared to score..he brought down the required run rate from 10.8 to 5.7..in just a few overs i think..I was impressed…and then the match started to turn around..
From 70 odd required in 40 balls the game neared an end at 6 required in 3 balls…and I knew anything could happen at the moment..I also knew Mark was equally tensed…I so wanted to introduce the possibility of match fixing ..but decided to rest my devious Indian mind to rest.
Horsham won the match and I was happy for Mark’s sake that we were sitting in the winning stand…
So now he knows anything can happen in a cricket match.You respect the game that much cos its like life..it can turn around at any point…u could be the best and yet u could lose..its grit and determination and balance thats required to survive the field.
Well that day we did too..

Am I the only one who finds it difficult to buy the perfect pair of jeans with the perfect fit??? Either the length is not right,waist does not fit properly if the length is fine,thighs too tight,or legs too broad, and if everything else was good the fog length just was’nt right.
Owning a pair of jeans is easy I reckon but the perfect fit is a task in itself.
When I was young,I have worn a lot of my brother’s hand me downs.At that age I think me and my jeans did well together.Or probably I was at the age that it did’nt really matter.But as I grew older and the onus on getting the perfect pair that fits perfectly shifted to me..and that has haunted me for part of my late teens and whole of my adult life.
I have tried so many brands,so many shops, now I take one look and I can predict excatly why this pair of jeans won’t be perfect for me.One good thing is I really dont need to go through the rigmarole of trying on jeans in some times extremely difficult situations.Or am I completely missing out on a perfect opportunity,due to my own prejudices???
I have even gone through a phase when I only wore trousers,chuck the idea of jeans I thought,I am a classy woman of today’s generation was my excuse.I dont bother with the easy-to-wear, easy-to-maintain,fashion defining, universal garment of comfort.All because I can’t find my fit.
Should I give up?Should I try harder?Is there a pair of jeans made for me?And if there is why haven’t I found mine yet?And while I struggle,I see around me people wearing what seems like their perfect pair of jeans.The perfect fit at the waist,the perfect length,the right colour,the right texture,the right everything!!!!
I shall not give up..I gather my courage…I hope Ill find what I am looking for when the time is right…But really am I the only one who finds it difficult to buy the perfect pair of jeans?

Moving my muscles more than absolutely necessary isn’t my forte.I can claim to have never excercised and have had no sports in my life that I have tried more than once.

I did join Karate classes but my motivation were the guy 6 years older than me who never noticed me and breakfast after class at a good old school friend’s place.

Needless to say it shows.And it shows big time.I had to stop using the punch line I am not fat I am pleasantly plump when strangers started offering me seats in public places.Kinda hit me that I probably come across as pregnant.

Not Cool.But not a problem either.I have not made me a priority in a long time.It was only this year when my mum decided to have a man to man chat with me..(literally felt like that) that wanting to lose weight and get fit struck the right cord some where.

Even my best friend took me to her Gym at Athens in my less than 24 hour trip to her for the first time.I believe that gyms are not for fat people.Its for fit healthy gorgeous bods to show off exactly that.

I did enjoy the tour…She showed me the machines,walking area, pools, place where she goes for her classes,yoga room.It was all fabulous and quite awe inspiring.But I did not see one fat person there.After looking around she said,”You are in the gym”.”But see I am a visitor I don’t belong here” I snapped back…And I rested my case.

I should have been a lawyer.Why am I a doctor?I get that all the time you are a doctor you should know it all.When my mother rubbed that into my face..I tried the emotional angle and tried to tell her that when I fight my weight issues I am a patient not a doctor,that I am battling my own problems and I can do with all the help I can get.She did not buy it.She is my mum after all.She gave me an ultimatum, and got me thinking.If I can’t take care of me how will I take care of my patients.

So when I got back,I decided no matter what I will go for a walk everyday(got regular only after my mum and my best friend nagged me unto death) and I will cook healthy meals for me and make sure I drink 2 litres of water and have 5 portions of fruit and water.And those decisions helped.I am dress size down with the machine pointing 13 pounds less.

LOL..so this is really not a success story blog..Its a drop in the ocean difference.

With the weather changing,I knew my regular walks are going to go for a toss.I decided to join a gym.I have been averse to the idea all my life.I have envied every sole who has the body to go to one, and admire all the people in my life who actually enjoy the hard word.What the heck.Ill gather my guts…

4 weeks back I met Carla at La Fitness.She took me around the gym, showed me the different facilities.Asked me gazzillion questions made me fill several forms.I maintained that I am a student (dont want anyone to know I am a doctor..most people start patronising and I cant stand that anymore)I want to lose weight, have never been to a gym before and I need all the help I can get.

So she put me on a gold membership..which means I pay gold..and I have a personal fitness trainer.He/she will chalk out my personalised plan and help me get a head start.Then I will have assesments and rechalk a plan.The next day I met Michael.He showed me the floor space area.With all the fire exits and safety issues discussed, we got to the machines, explained what cardiovascular workout meant.Stressed on the need for stretching, good posture,and right breathing technique. I was quite impressed with the simplicty of his diction.He talked of cardiovascular workout, toning, resistance training,yoga,mind and body workout,aqua aerobics.The works!

He encouraged me to take all the classes and figure out what I would like to do for myself.Sounds like a plan.But 2 days down and not a bead of sweat.This kinda seemed easy.Do these guys bank on the fact that people pay so much for membership that they will automatically lose weight? I mused? I got eager to get my hands on those machines, seem like fun.After having paid that fee, my motivation was sky high.

Before I left he asked. “So what do you want out of the gym?, whats your reason for joining?”…lose weight,tone my arms,tuck my tummy in, look gorgeous, become a babe…”Excercise”..after all that talk and tour and discussion.EXCERCISE!!!!..thats all I came up with..what was I thinking, me dumbwit 27 year old student.
He then asked me to make an appoinment to make a personalised plan.I was going to meet Harry the next to do just that.That encounter is worth another blog some day!

I was meeting up with Laura as she wanted to see the Woman in White a Andrew LLoyd Webber musical adapted from the novel Woman in White by Wilkie Collins.
And so off I was.Reached on time..which I am generally good at.Met up with Laura, picked up our tickets and our lunch coupons and headed for the Palace theatre.
True to its name, the theatre was grand.One of the best I have visited so far in London.We managed to get some fantastic stall seats…Just like cinema, stalls in the theatre have the closest view to the stage but that is a good thing.We were both thrilled.And then beagn the musical or should I say life like drama…
The sets,the props,the costumes,the actors,and actresses..so powerful so full of life..the story so gripping..the era so different (victorian)
If anything the voices off all the artists on stage mesmerised me.As the story unfolded and came to the climax I was so over come with emotion that I was crying.
I dont know much about theatre and literature.But I do know that I love the experience.I enjoy how for those few moments we are taken away into another land another life and are made to feel all the emotions that sometimes didnt know we were capable of feeling.
I enjoy theatre immensely.Been lucky to be in a city that is actually called the theatreland.

The first time I was introduced to the term BLOGS was when a cousin of mine had had a tiff at office.He was mad and he didnt want to listen to reason.I was trying to put on my good older sister act.But he would have nothing of it.He then asked me to read his blog..’that will explain everything to you’ was the reply I recieved.
Knowing nothing about blogs I consulted my then very good friend and he told me that a blog was a personal space for the world to see/read.I was intrigued by his choice of words.But then he has always been good with them.
I have been musing over the whole idea.Are they really a personal space when its open for the public to see,read then, comment on them.Is that the reason why people blog..to reach out to others.Is this a platform for reaching out a message..or just my little haven where I can write what I want to when I want to.
I think I am going to start and see what really motivates to keep me going.And then may be Ill know what a blog is all about.