What is in a name ?

                                          By

                            Vivek Hande

What is in a name, you might ask? I talk about nicknames or pet names or whatever you may call them. These names have so much of a story to tell. They tell you often about regional affiliations, religious inclinations, musical preferences; at times about size, shape, color or even a state of mind. Well, sometimes   they convey nothing at all. Some names are distinctive of a particular region and you could almost fix a personality and a face to the name by merely listening to the name. An analysis of these names is as fascinating as the names themselves!

                     Classic nicknames like Tony, Rocky, Bunty,  Pinky , Dolly ,Sweetie invariably remind you of warm , hearty ,affectionate, energetic folks invariably from Delhi, Punjab or thereabouts. Jhumi, Tinku,  Rinku, Jhumpa, Jhumpi, Bulu , Toolu, Baapi and Khoka-the list is endless and   takes you to the Bengalis, who are one of the great masters of the nickname business. A Goan couple I knew, had their first two kids named Bunny and Sunny and when they were blessed with a third one, a little late in life , they had no option but to call the young fellow Funny!

            Chotu, a very popular name might have been alright for the kid but just seems a little incongruous when a hurly six -footer with a thick beard responds to this epithet. Also, somehow, most waiters in hostels, canteens and cafes just somehow are always Chotu. Baby, need not necessarily be of  diminutive size and delicate disposition- I have seen enough who  are neither baby-like in size or behavior. Tingu ,is more often than not a short , wiry individual. A subtle one was AB Singh ,a Sardar ,a trifle whimsical but who was rechristened ‘Ab-Surd’ for life!

       Some names, invariably transform into abbreviated names and that sticks for life. Bharadwaj almost always is Birdy; Subramanian is either Subbu or Mani. Saxena, is often Sexy(regardless of sex appeal); Venkatesh is Venky; Chopra is more often than not Chopsy; Parthasarthy is Partha and Pattabhiraman is obviously Pattu. Krishna Kant Prem Kumar is KKPK; Dayaram Naresh Arolikar is popularly DNA and   Algappa Baindraj Chellaiah Doraiswamy has to be ABCD and nothing else!

        I may get confused with the real names of some very interesting personalities in college. But their nicknames are still fresh in mind. I don’t remember whether it was their physical attributes or behavior or persona which prompted these names but they sure got engraved in memory. Bull; Gainda (Hindi for Rhinoceros); Chipku(sticky); Moti(pearl) and the trio of Aadu, Maadu and Khadu- I don’t have the foggiest idea regarding the significance or the origin of the names but these names have survived time and tide.

            Another set of interesting names are those based on gastronomic delights. One of my favorites was a set of twins, Kaju and Kishmish! Nobody can take away the thrill of calling out to Jalebi or tenderly beckon  Jamun. HS Nath became Nuts for life and is quite nutty in his own way. A little out of the usual, a passionate mango lover, who had three boys fondly responding to Langda, Dasheri and Aapus- believe it or not!

Each name has a distinct character, flavor, identity and at the cost of disagreeing with Shakespeare , Rose can certainly not smell as special  as Gulab!!

the call of nature

                       The call of nature: no leaks please..

                                    By Vivek Hande

The victorious England team recently celebrated their Ashes victory on the pitch at Lords by answering “nature’s call” and chose to water the pitch after some feverish Beer drinking. Not quite cricket and not quite gentlemanly, one might say. But what is a leak amongst friends- when you have to go, you have to go.

Apart from some sniggers and some smirks and suppressed amusement, I doubt if this would really outrage a country like us. For us, no place is really sacrosanct. Roads, pavements, streets, buildings, garages, parking lots, gardens, parks, railway tracks and in more recent times ,even coaches in local trains – anywhere , anytime , wherever on the go :that seems to be the motto.  The truth is that in large measure, the progress of a country has to be determined by its standards of sanitation. The less we speak about the standards of sanitation and hygiene in this country , lesser is the stink raised.

It is a fact that more than fifty percent of the 1.2 billion population of the country has no access to toilets. The governments have spent more than 1250 billion rupees on creating toilets and hygiene infrastructure in the last twenty years. However, open air defecation continues to be the norm and toilets that have come up in many villages and rural areas are located unimaginatively and are used as stores for fodder and grain! These are the facts of a government conducted survey and quite literally, money seems to be going down the drain. 

There are toilets in stations and bus stops but do try using them at your own peril. It is a nightmare which may scar you for life. Roads have improved and we have some glorious highways, but there is very little appreciable difference in the standards of the loos. If you are a lady, you can be sure you won’t forget a road trip in a big hurry. Men can be men and can water plants anywhere along the road.

I don’t think we can qualify to ever be called a civilized nation or a developed one, if we can’t get the basic standards of sanitation accessible to each and everyone.  We can build satellites and nuclear reactors and be the amongst the oldest civilizations of the world, but we still cannot defecate and urinate with dignity.  That is the stinking truth!!!

the soldier scholar

                                      The soldier scholar …..

                          By Vivek Hande

My father served in the Indian Army for 34 long years. All who served with him regarded him a “soldier down to his boots”. He was an Ammunitions expert and had participated in the military operations in 1962, 1965 and 1971. He joined the Indian Military Academy as a teenager and having virtually spent a life in the Olive Greens, he knew no life other than the Army.

 Well, Dad has always been a very impressive figure; in many ways larger than life. One grew up on his anecdotes for every possible occasion, and it did not matter that very often they were a repeat. Somehow, each time, they did sound different and entertaining. He has always been the life and soul of every party. He has had the amazing ability to make friends. His friends have included the watchman in my school, a watch –repairer and corporate head -honchos. The men who have served under him have been loyal to him long after his retirement.  He was a competent tennis player in his younger days and a pretty bad golfer- but he was willing to try out everything. He has always spoken his mind, and stood his ground on his convictions and has often paid the price for the same. There are many things I have admired him for over the years.  He has always been a soldier and he has always plunged into everything headlong and faced everything head on. 

 I respect and admire the way he has reinvented himself. From a  hard-core soldier to a German language Professor, it has been a long journey.  From the rudimentary seeds of interest in the language, sown in him by way of an official “interpreter ship course”, way back in the late Sixties, he has come a very long way.   After retirement, he decided to pursue the language whole-heartedly.  He took all the courses in the Max Mueller Bhawan at Bangalore, and was by far the senior most student of a class with an average age of thirty! 

  Some might have sniggered behind his back but that did not deter him. He came through with flying colours. His fluency in the language and command over the vocabulary amazed everyone. His memory was razor sharp and he soaked in the language like a sponge. His command of the language drew the admiration of the locals, during a visit he made to Germany.  He was certain; he was born in the wrong country! He teaches German today, six days a week and would take on students on Sundays too, if my mother went along.  Amongst his students have been corporate executives, Germany-bound nurses and air-hostesses, as also Germans and Austrians residing in Bangalore, who have all enjoyed and gained from his teaching skills and proficiency in the language, over the last decade and more.  He is pleased as punch when he gets letters and e-mails addressed as "Professor". 

Salutations to the scholar soldier or is it the soldier scholar? Life does begin at sixty perhaps!!

kolkata driving manual :wheels within wheels..

                     Wheels within wheels! Kolkata driving manual 

                                            by

                                  Vivek Hande

Driving in any Indian city brings its own share of challenges. I recently had some driving to do through the length and breadth of Kolkata. My father  asked me the other day,”how is the driving experience in Kolkata? Is there some kind of a pattern?“ My first response was that there was no pattern whatsoever. But I then thought back and realized that there was definitely a pattern and driving in Kolkata is a unique experience and there are certain rules of the game which one has to learn and certain rules which have to be forgotten! I would like to share some of the rules I have learnt in my short diving experience in the City of Joy ….

(a). Driving on the road is always a race. You have to, have to, have to come first !

(b).You can overtake from the right but it is preferred to overtake from the left!

(c).You have to realize you are always in practice for the Monaco Grand Prix; weave in and out of traffic; keep changing lanes to hone your reflexes. It is most imperative to keep changing lanes!

(d).Try to keep your vehicle as close as possible to the vehicle adjacent or ahead of you. Try to graze the other vehicle at least once ;from any side. If you fail to do so ,overtake and follow rule (a) or (b).

(e).The Horn is a weapon to ensure victory on the roads. Try and keep one palm fixed on the horn and try not to stop pressing the horn ,whatever the distraction or provocation!

(f). If you are a cab driver ,your license may be suspended if you do not have a success rate of at least 75% in landing a healthy dose of Paan juice on the door of the adjacent vehicle!

(g). Another weapon in your hand is the “indicator”. Use it liberally to confuse your opponents on the road. Indicate to the left and turn right; indicate to the right and turn left or indicate in any direction but don’t turn at all!

(h). Above all , remember , when you drive ,you are the King of the roads. The road belongs to you and you alone and others on the road are incidental; a necessary evil to be borne and tolerated. You are the King!!

These are some of the rules I have picked up and I am sure there will be some more as I drive along. But for those new to the city roads , assimilate these rules; these are key to survival . You will win the race! Actually , with some modifications , this manual can help you drive in any Indian city...

RIP : dear warrior

                                                RIP: Dear Warrior!

                                  By

                           Vivek Hande

I lost a patient the two years ago   on this very date , after  a valiant  fight with  his multiple ailments for the past five years. He was sixty eight going on eighteen when he died. He was under my care but on several occasions, I actually felt it was he who was doling out medical and every other kind of advice to me.

 He was actually more than a patient. I learnt many things from him. I probably got much more from him than I could give him. 

He was suffering from Hepatocellular Carcinoma(Cancer of the Liver). He had undergone surgery for the same and suffered through chemotherapy and its side effects. He subsequently developed Kidney failure and required weekly dialysis. To make things worse, he also had severe bronchial asthma and required nebulizers and a lot of other medications. He did not consider his Hypertension a problem at all and that was considered part of the background score. He was truly and verily , nothing short of a walking medical disaster.  He gulped down pills and capsules by the dozen thrice a day. He could recollect his weekly blood reports by memory. He was a walking medical dictionary and read up constantly and updated himself on all his ailments. He knew the adverse effects and consequences of all the medical procedures he had been subjected to over the years. 

He had every reason to ask the Lord why he had been singled out for attention and why he had every conceivable medical problem. He had reason to be frustrated and upset with life.

And yet, not once did I see him pity himself or curse his fate. I am sure, he must have had his lows and felt miserable physically and psychologically. But not once did he let it play out on his face. He always maintained a cheerful demeanor; a smile playing on his face. He bore his infirmities with grace and dignity. He would often ask me to take it easy and lighten up and start enjoying life. He would tell me that before I realized, life would slip away. He would encourage me to take the weekends off and spend more time with my family. In a large measure, he was the one responsible for motivating me to take up Golf as a sporting pursuit. Every time, I tee off , I invariably remember him . As the disease got hold of him in a vice like grip, he knew his countdown had begun. His days were numbered and he was ready for it. 

I saw him shrinking away each day. He was passionate about cricket .He had predicted an India – Sri Lanka final before the tournament got warmed up. Lying on the hospital bed with drips and catheters invading him, he would cheer every Indian victory on the television. He was not alive to see the match , but I am certain ,he was fervently praying from the skies for an Indian triumph. He taught me self belief, he showed me grace and dignity – the dead man truly showed me how to live life!! RIP , dear warrior..

the sign of a very very sick society

                    the sign of a  very very sick society…

                                By Vivek Hande

What has happened to us as a society? Is there no end to this perversion?  Are  there  new depths to which we can plummet? Is there an end to this? Is there any light at all, at the end of this interminable dark tunnel?

I am , by nature , an optimist . But I ask myself ,is there place for optimism? You pick up the paper any day and you have to read the gory details of a terrible rape in some part of the city or country. No age, locality, socio-economic class seems to be spared. It almost seems to have reached epidemic proportions. Is it because we have degenerated as a society ; is it to do with poor upbringing; is it to do with moral decadence; altered value systems ;is it to do with economy or corruption or whatever else people want to blame everything on? I just cannot fathom how and why we have reached this terrible state of depravity?

The same cycle repeats itself again and again. There is a rape followed by some angry and agonized sound bytes. Some grand-standing  and some sloganeering. Some candle marches and some innovative placards and posters being thrown about. Endless debates on endless TV shows -discussing, pontificating, suggesting and demanding and so on. But unfortunately, while these discussions are  on , another woman , another girl , another child is being raped and we seem to be silent bystanders . While the protests grow louder and slogans are high pitched, the noise and the din seems to be drowning the screams and pleas of another woman being violated that very moment.

Laws and Bills are being discussed and being promulgated. Discussions take place at every level- the street side chai shop; in homes and malls; in clubs and cafes; in print and visual media; in Supreme court and Parliament but the sad truth is that the epidemic rages on. I don’t want to get into a debate on a “second chance” for the rapist and the “quantum of punishment” and other distracting issues. I just know that there has to be a system in place where a man thinks and thinks and thinks yet again before committing this most heinous crime –unless there is a fear, unless he is scared that the crime will be followed by punishment and humiliation for himself, he will continue to be emboldened to behave in this dastardly manner.

Man, they have often said, is a social animal. But behaving in this terribly anti-social manner is worse than any animal. An animal pounces or attacks for its own survival, for its own existence, for being a part of the food chain. But this attack and violation of another person’s privacy and sanctity is the surest sign of a terribly sick society. How much more are we going to degenerat

tell me , what is your problem

                               “  Tell me , what is your problem?’

                                 By

                    Vivek Hande 

                             It has been nearly two decades in medical practice for me and it has been a tremendous privilege meeting  and treating hundreds of patients over the years. It has been a great learning experience and I daresay it has brought rewards which money can’t buy and it has enriched me in so many ways that words can’t express. I have learnt so much from my patients and many of them have left a deep impact on me in their own special way .Many of them have been distinctive in their manner or attire or attitude or their way to deal with stress- each of them have taught me something in their own way!

                   One of my earliest patients, now a grandmother, settled in Lucknow, has tracked me through my postings and sends “prasadam” from Tirupati,each year,  after her annual visit there.   I don’t even have her postal address to thank her but she is unfailing in her largesse. For a while, when I was posted as a young doctor in the North east and would treat the local civilian population as part of military liaison, the simple folks would leave small wicker baskets containing eggs with my nursing assistant , in return for my services. At the end of the day , I had enough eggs to feed the garrison and enough goodwill to last a lifetime .Being a vegetarian, the eggs were distributed to the families in the base- it got me additional goodwill from the ladies in the station , but that is a separate issue!

            I had a patient, a retired widower; he would come every Saturday dressed in  a trendy three piece suit with a jaunty flower stuck in his lapel. He would talk about vague and obscure complaints and then ramble about his son and grandchildren settled in the US. For the life of me , I could find nothing seriously wrong with him and one Saturday after several months of this social exchange , I told him , I thought he was quite well and he need not come back to me. I saw his face fall and he started talking about some fresh complaint. Exasperated, I asked him, “Tell me what is your problem?” He looked at me sheepishly and confessed he had no real problem and he just enjoyed dressing up and coming over to chat as I , apparently was a good listener. He told me he had no one to talk to and these visits were the highlight of his lonely week. He  came  week after  week and frankly, I started looking forward to his visits and we discussed a million things under the sun.

                  I must tell you about this elderly gentleman who had a debilitating chronic illness. He was in severe pain and had frequent flares of his condition which would leave him weak and emaciated and physically broken. He was on medication for virtually every organ system of his body. He was in and out of hospital for one complication or the other. He was in constant suffering for nearly two years, but not once did I see him lose his cheery optimism. He would always have a smile on his face and he bore all the ravages of his illness with such dignity and forbearance that one could gnly admire his spirit. Ha passed away quietly and with the least fuss-may his soul rest in peace!

               Then there was this lady who needed to come to me for several follow up visits. After a couple of months she asked me if I were a Brahmin. I nodded and asked her how that was relevant to her illness. She told me I would be an excellent match for her neighbour’s  daughter . I spluttered and told her I was much married and I had two boys. Not deterred, she asked me how old my son was and she could fix a match for him with her niece! Then there was this young girl , who had a rather well thumbed OPD notebook and I saw  handwritten follow up notes from virtually every specialist in the hospital – I asked her what brought her to the hospital so often and required her to visit so many specialists apparently for myriad complaints-she told me with a straight face that she was trying to find out if there was one doctor in the hospital with a legible handwriting! And there was this lady who after getting her prescription from me for her ailment ,told me as she was getting up,” Doctor, why are you so tense all the time? You must smile more often. And you seem to have a stiff back. I must teach you some Yogasanas. It will make you feel younger and you will feel better about yourself!” Talk about ,Physician heal thy self!!

                  I must tell you about this elderly gentleman who had a debilitating chronic illness. He was in severe pain and had frequent flares of his condition which would leave him weak and emaciated and physically broken. He was on medication for virtually every organ system of his body. He was in and out of hospital for one complication or the other. He was in constant suffering for nearly two years, but not once did I see him lose his cheery optimism. He would always have a smile on his face and he bore all the ravages of his illness with such dignity and forbearance that one could only admire his spirit. He passed away quietly and with the least fuss-may his soul rest in peace!

            Then there is this net-savvy breed of patients who sometimes know more about the illness and the latest on a condition than you do. While the internet is a wonderful tool , it also provides a whole lot of information which can be misleading to the uninitiated. I had a patient telling me that a particular drug has been found very useful in experiments on Japanese rats and Australian cats and why we could not use the same with similar success on his mother-in-law!

            Well, one learns as one goes on and each day one has learnt from the patients and their relatives and attendants and it is truly been a privilege dealing with so many of them from every corner of the country. The look , the smile , the gratitude, the word of thanks ; the satisfaction of seeing a sick man walk out of the hospital is truly more gratifying than anything money can buy!!