Midnight In Paris

Have you ever dreamt of a different time, a time perhaps, in the past or the future?
I have, a beautiful time,  where there was peace and tranquillity, the fresh air, prosperous villages, a time of magic and enchantment. It sounds almost fictional, but there was a time when it was not just a fiction,and i want to back there, for perhaps i believe I am an old soul with a higher purpose,or maybe i am just in denial.
This very feeling of fleeing to the past, very aptly named as Golden Age Thinking, and elaborately explained by a character in Midnight In Paris (2012), as,
“The erroneous notion that a different time period is better than the one one’s living in. It is a flaw in the romantic imagination of those people who find it difficult to cope with the present and that nostalgia is denial, denial of the painful present.”
It makes me question, whether i am truly in denial, or is it some lure of the past,some distinct features of the age long past that invade my day dreams, and pull my heart.
Romanticism, a concept so noble, of a utopian land, perfection of an ideological mind, music of a dreaming soul. A concept that consumed masses in the past, and now just a figment of imagination in believer’s words. And yet it carries on, it’s light eternal, and we seek refuge. It makes me wish to jump back centuries, and fall madly in love. In love with myself,my family, my land, my people, fall in love with every droplet of fresh morning dew, to every coo of the noble dove. Where the sun shines, and nights lit by stars. Where we dance in the rain, and sing in snow. Where love flows from heart to heart, illuminating all.
Where every page is a story, every word dripped in honey. Where the pen writes wonders, and eyes read miracles. Where lips sing the song of nature, and ears hear the songs of Gods. Where a touch, a kiss, bring eternal bliss, where hearts beat in harmony. Where maiden’s tresses flow like the waterfalls, where men hold the standard strong. Where children dream, adults accomplish. Where stories told, destinies written. And I dream, my romanticism knows no bounds, from losing myself in words of Fitzgerald, to crying rivers for Austen, from patriotism in Hemingway, to expression by Shakespeare. And I dream on, my own bubble of perfection, riding a chestnut stallion, roaming the lands, experiencing the woods. And romanticism lives on, ever strong.
But the question still remains, denial or not?!
I argue with myself, and find that perhaps my romanticism is fueled by logic itself, though how contradictory the statement might seem. Present world, may have advanced technologically, but has declined in all other aspects.
We are hooked to our devices, and selfishness is rampant. Most sweetest of gestures are for pomp and show, and criminals buy freedom with blood of innocence. Wars fought everyday, yet none but devils incarnate win, lives, futures lost on both sides, yet the propagator forgotten. A time when money speaks, and lifes are dispensable. A time when humanity needs to be taught!
If wanting to escape this titan’s hell of an era is denial, then yes my romanticism is denial. But the need for peace is nature itself, then how can romanticism ever be denial?!
Maybe I just want to spend that midnight in Paris, walking in the rain, embodiment of love, honesty,freedom.
So what hold true for you?
Denial or romanticism?


Bhurban, Pakistan.

Hope and despair.
Everyone has those moments in life, where one of them overrules the other. And then there are moments that turns the tables.
This place, a safe haven, turned tables, when there was no silver lining visible. It doesn’t have to be profound, but it does call to you. The first flowers of late winter. When snow melted, and spring was knocking on winter’s door. A beacon, a symbol of hope, for someone lost.

Down The Memory Lane

My First Attempt, NaBloPoMo.

National Blog Posting Month, i assume most of you know all about NaBloPoMo. For others, it’s an event where talents and courage of blog posting is celebrated every year in November. The aim is to post daily, whether it be a picture, one liner, article, or a poem.
I find this challenge extremely daunting, and was reluctant in daring myself to try. But i guess, my ego at trying myself to prove that I can do it, made me accept it. I am a doctor, and have a crazy busy schedule. Sometimes i don’t even get time to talk to my family, and yet i took up the challenge of NaBloPoMo. Till today, i have been keeping up with it, and it has been a learning on its own.
NaBloPoMo introduced me to a highly supportive blogger family, that expands everyday, every minute. It also introduced me to some amazing blogs that i might not have found otherwise. Also it gave my blog a boost, that i couldn’t have without the blogger family. NaBloPoMo, in short, has been an amazing experience. But it has it’s cons. For people like me, who like to write when the urge to write gets uncontrollable, the words flowing out without a thought, the highly inspired state, NaBloPoMo affects the writing quality. I might have been posting daily, but i don’t find my posts to be as profound as they could have been. Although the love of fellow bloggers assure me that my posts are pretty good, still the satisfaction of quality writing, is scarce in NaBloPoMo. Although the post count, almost, sort of, makes up for it, but it leaves me desiring more from my own work. Also, the topics, there are so many topics that might not be perceived well in one community or another, and hence i try to keep my posts as global as possible. And that leaves me thinking about possible writing venues. It limits me, but then again, it also grants me a freedom of totally different kind. The freedom of experimenting, and yet assured of acceptability.
And i have a patient, who just might need my help in a while, hence to wrap it up, all in all NaBloPoMo has been an amazing learning experience, where even it’s cons manage to become pros.
I am most thankful to all the lovely, talented bloggers, that make NaBloPoMo a reality!

I would love it, if some of you might like to challenge me further, by giving specific titles/ topics. And see, if i can manage that! 
Happy Blogging! 🙂

Fifty Shades of Me!

Yes, I know your secret.
There’s no need denying it, I know you have read Fifty Shades of Grey (and perhaps even enjoyed it), well who wouldn’t, with the hype that was created. And now here’s Fifty Shades of You, Me, Everyone of us. Confusing?!
Let me explain.
No, this is not about BDSM.
Humans are known social animals. We need society and our social interactions to survive. We need some sense of belonging, fitting in, to thrive. Families, friends, institutions, cities, states, these all divide us into subsets, and yet give a sense of belonging in a diverse sense. The connection of being, we all carve it. And hence we have our own ways to fulfil those cravings. We need our family’s love and care, we need our friend’s attention, we need to fit in our own social circle. We get influenced, and influence others in our circle of influence. And to do so, we develop small yet noticeable quirks, responses, mannerisms, all unique to the group of people we are addressing.
We act mature, professional, calm, efficient, and in control, at our workplace.
We act funny, charming, witty, in front of people we want to impress.
Yet we act our most dis-inhibited, carefree, at times irresponsible, with our closest of friends.
And these are just a few of the examples. We act all the different ways, with all the different people. With every different set of people, we have a different shade of ourselves. And this makes us so much more, of what we perceive ourselves to be. Even not just ourselves, but others too.
We are capable of acting ruthless possessive (Mr.Grey :P), at the same time we can act all mushy ( yes, that’s Christian Grey too). We can act meek, and naive (Anastasia Steele 😛 ), yet have a wild streak ( again Ms.Steele).
We have all the different ranges of interactions and emotions, until or unless, as Hermione said, “You have an emotional range of a teacup”.
We try to compartmentalise ourselves into a particular set of behavioral pattern, and suffer for it.
Yes, I am responsible,but I can commit stupid mistakes too. This shouldn’t come as a disappointment. Surprise, justified, disappointment, no.
Yes, I can act all tough and indifferent, but at times I can express it too.
Yes, I can like sports, cars, video games, and yet be a girly girl at heart. I don’t have to have restricted likes and dislikes, when i can enjoy everything.
Yes, I do love nature, and it’s abundant mystical beauty, yet i am a believer of science.
Yes, I can be religious, yet worldly.
Yes, I can be two opposites, at the very same time, because frankly I am not a teacup!
We have created an accepted behaviour curriculum, that we have to follow. Is human mind so simple, that it can follow a set of patterns?!
If it is so, then why do most of psychiatric illnesses have no definitive treatment, infact most psychiatric illnesses lie in the huge gray area between sanity, and insanity. We are unable to truly define, and identify. And yet we set definitive behaviour patterns.
What an irony, isn’t it?
We are all of those million pieces of our behaviour, and yet none, at the same time. We have been trying so hard to define human behaviour, and never just thought that being human is a definition on it’s own. We are our own definitions, complex beautiful yet indescribable, indiscernible definitions.
We are human!
And we are a million different shades of ourselves.

Random Rhyme

MH, Rwp. Picture taken after a 36 hour duty, a sleep deprived brain trying to wake up.

MH, Rwp. Picture taken after a 36 hour duty, a sleep deprived brain trying to wake up.

All ugliness of life aside,

Forget all the rules we abide,

Stare into heaven’s eye,

And hear the distant sigh,

A bird flaps, feather or two,

A soul flies away, without much ado,

Yet we cry for the times past,

And present leaves just as fast,

Sit, relax, maybe a cup of tea,

Let go of all, just let it be.

(Random early morning rhyme, produced by a sleep deprived brain 😛 )

Let it Flow!

He has been sitting there, staring in the space, not saying a word. Sometimes his expressions change, as if they contort with pain. But he doesn’t move, he keeps sitting there, staring out at something unknown, something unseen. A wild flower in his hand, he has been rolling it’s stem, but careful not to harm the flower itself. His dark hair, are messed up, but his suit crisp. His expression is calm, but his eyes….his eyes, a story of storm itself, raging thunder, burning lava, monstrous waves. His eyes tell a story, so different from his demeanour, and yet it is said, eyes are the window to the soul.
It makes me wonder, what secrets his soul holds, secrets of such intensity, that make his soul, his own hell.
A butterfly lands on his hand, trying to play with the wild flower, and yet, he sits there oblivious to all. And i keep on staring at him. Those amber depths,hold secrets that captivate me, they have me entranced. Those liquid pools of gold,have the magic of a thousand spells, and I am, bewitched!
I have lost control of self, and I move towards him, remotely aware of what i am doing, my main focus, those amber eyes. My body moves of it’s own accord, travelling the distance of thousand miles, in a heartbeat, and right beside him. My presence shakes him from his reverie, and he turn those amber pools on me, making me forget my very existence. I am fully captivated, line, hook, sink!
Suddenly there is rain, yet, the sun is out. And i realise the rain is in his eyes, the skies are clear, but he cries for hopes lost. He cries for what was once his, he cries for what was in his grasp, he cries for the vanished future, he cries for his torn soul, and he cries. And i stand there,looking at him, soaking it all, an unquenchable thirst, to remove his tears, to heal the tear. And i cry, cry for his lost ambitions, and my torn soul, i cry for his lost future, and my past wounds, I cry for his broken soul,and my shattered self.
And the rivers converge, feeding each other, and washing it all away. The two entities become one, to heal all that’s torn. Amber pools meet the chocolate depths, and new essence is born. An essence born out of truth, hope, loyalty, understanding, and care. The essence of love and respect. And it takes it’s own winding path, writing it’s own journey, leaving it’s own mark.

For The Love of All That’s Sweet!


Cute, single, and ready for another Pringle! Yes, that’s me, well that, and a lot more adjectives. 😛
It’s a competitive world, where everything is commercialised. Even the sweet visits to grandmother’s house have so many commercial accessories attached to it. Where it used to be a sweet visit, where hugging grandmother, and complaining to her, how your parents have been so hard on your poor self, and her resultant scolding of your parents, with added bonus of fresh homemade sweets, goodies, and everything delicious. Now it’s more about updating the Facebook status, or tweeting about it. Instead of making a heartfelt, thoughtful card for her, it’s about buying one. Instead of her knitting a sweater for you, it’s more about a gift card. Simplest of things have changed, and so have our standards.
Speaking of standards, the outlook, or anatomical humam beauty, has also been standardised. Well, i also live in this world, and sometimes, we try hard to be that perfect standard. Hence, i wanted to lose a few pounds, and hence started my search for appropriate, quick, and leaning towards the healthy, diet plan. I found one, it was do-able, not too hard, appropriate calories, enough energy for the day, but, it had a no carbs policy. Fats, and proteins, were allowed, but carbs, a big no no.
I put myself up for the challenge, and stocked the freezer with meat, chicken, and fish. Had my meals planned, meats washed and marinated, to get a flavourful meal. And so began my no carbs journey.
Day one,
Meh, it’s ok, not so bad, I can do it!
Day two,
Okay, yes, i can feel my appetite decreasing, good, feel the burn!
Day three,
Yay, i lost a pound, wow, forget about the headache that has been keeping me awake since last night, after all its one whole pound.
Day four,
I can do this, i did lose a pound, i should do it, push myself.
Day five,
Who am i kidding, let’s just sneak one tiny chocolate candy, yeah that much cheating is ok right?!
Day six,
I still lost another pound, wow, see a little bit of cheating doesn’t hurt, let’s eat the yummy chocolate bar in my fridge.
Day seven,
This is good, a diet with chocolate, i can do this.
Day eight,
Two pounds gained back?!
I cheated, damn…let’s try again.
Day nine,
I can do this, let’s do this.
Day ten,
Yes, i can have Kate Upton’s body, let’s push it!
Day eleven,
I will die if i don’t get some carbs, even that apple is looking heavenly!

(Waits a few hours, and then sneaks into the kitchen)
Wow, that apple is calling to me,it’s saying my name! (even though apples are definitely not my favourite fruit)
I shouldn’t, i am on diet!
But apple, it’s beckoning me, it’s pleading me, seducing me, just one bite!
Oh my good lord, this is the best thing i have ever eaten, how did i ever not fall in loves with apples before. The juices flowing, the texture crunchy, fresh and ripe, sweeter than the sweetest wine. I have found nirvana!
I need more, more, more!
Milk, yes i need milk, dear sweet nectar of mother nature, milk!
*gulp gulp gulp*
How haven’t i ever tasted such sweet milk, i should write to this provider!
And that’s how my diet ended, my aspiration to have Kate Upton’s body, well washed down with milk and carbs.
Not having carbohydrates (including fruits, dairy, most vegetables) for a few days, affected me so that i craved for stuff that i am not quite fond of in routine life. I know apples are good for health, and so is milk, but i had to make myself eat an apple daily, and drink a glass of milk. But the no carbs rule, made me crave them.
Yes, i could, and should lose the pounds i gained, while studying for finals, sitting and studying all day long, with junk food, and red bull as my trusted sidekicks.

But going to such drastic measures is not what is required or even healthy. This particular diet didn’t allow me to eat fruit, drink milk, but our bodies need that nutrition. The goodness of fruits, vegetables, dairy, and protein, it’s all required by the body. And if we cut, even one part of it, we expose our bodies to unwanted stress, which can cause issues in future. There are healthy alternatives to shedding some pounds, whether it be 10 pounds or 100, they can be taken care of, by a healthy way.
Yes, i love sweets, icecream, and all there is to food. I am a foodie, i appreciate food not just as a necessity, but as a luxury, in life. And yes, i will shed those pounds, and in a proper medically appropriate, healthy way, without use of any drugs, or restricting diets. Because health comes way before Kate Upton, or Miranda Kerr’s body.
After all, who can say no to icecream?! 😀

Past Tomes, Future Hopes


Picture taken when about to park in the garage.

Sometimes, looking back in the mirror, can show you the miracles you never appreciated. Sometimes it shows the hope for your future. Sometimes it shows, that there are those who believe in you. Sometimes it shows the journey you traveled. But at all times, it shows, that cherish the present, and hope for the future.


I see a candle burning,
Burning away,dying

I see the moon shining,
Shining white, blind

I see the sun setting,
Setting down,frozen

I see a flower blooming,
Blooming on,crippled

I see wind blowing,
Blowing away,dead

I see a man crying,
Crying out,despair

I see a woman working,
Working on,tired

I see a child playing,
Playing life,blood

I see myself ageing,
Ageing away…………………………………..DEAD!!!!!

The Tipsy Balance

Ah November!
You bring back so many things, winter, dry fruits, cosy evenings spent by the fireplace, eating marshmallows and chocolate. A heavenly cup of coffee, curled up on the couch, enjoying mild rain, and an enthralling book. And for me, end of leave, and back to hospital, isn’t that just cruel?!
Date: 1st November 2014
Time: 23:52 hours
I am sitting on a stiff chair, keeping an eye on all the critical patients under my care. I try to escape to my room for a little while, because frankly 36 hour duties are no joke. I have been on my feet since six in the morning, skipped breakfast, total water intake one and a half glass. Lunch, courtesy of a dear friend, because, if that hadn’t been provided, and forced to take time out, i might have not been able to get even a single bite today. Working solely on two cans of coke, and almost no solid food. Yes, i am a doctor, what an irony!
First day after leave, and that too the dreaded 36 hour shift. Incharge of 100+ patients, there’s simply no respite. Unfortunately it just wasn’t the workload that made this such a hectic day, but dealing with deaths of four critically ill patients, that i spent hours on trying to revive. All four of them had poor prognosis, and the families had been counselled. Yet, this never makes the death of someone under your care any easy.
I clearly remember the day when i had to face the first death ever, both, as a medical student and, a doctor. As a medical student, i was so stressed out that i had a small, car accident. As a doctor, I understood death better, but that doesn’t make it any easier. Even when i knew that the patient has passed away, i continued doing resuscitative measures, in futile hope that he might just live, God bless the resident, who didn’t let me deal with it on my own, and broke the news to the family himself, as i started crying silent tears during CPR.
With time, I don’t react that drastically to death, but death of any human being, is of a great consequence. As doctors, we are not allowed to show any weakness and emotion, in front of the patient’s relatives, but as humans, we just train to control our expressions, and file them away in secret patient compartments in our head. We give our best while we can, and afterwards, compartmentalise. No human can be actually indifferent to any other human’s death. If someone is actually indifferent, then perhaps it’s a case of humanity lost.
I know it’s a rather dull, foreboding topic to write about, but at present, this is the most pressing thought on my mind.
Life and death, such a fine balance. Your position relative to that certain line, depicts, which realm you occupy. A slight tip, and you just might be dead. Throughout our lives, we abuse our body, and when it starts showing effects of our abuse, we curse fate, creator, God, or whichever entity you might believe in. Some of us indulge in alcohol, then complain about liver disease, others consume junk food and complain of diabetes, yet others smoke two packs a day, and just can’t accept lung cancer when it shows. You and me, we all know all about it, all the information out there, and yet, we still can’t appreciate the health we enjoy.
The worse thing in life, is having regrets. And nothing defines regrets better than ‘what ifs’. What if i didn’t drink those six beers a day, what if i ate healthy, what if i never smoked?!
I care for many critical patients, and in most patients, I have observed the ‘what ifs’. And this is what adds to the already existing or developing depression, in regard with chronic illnesses.
Yes, doctors, like every other human being, love making money, but at the same time, no one ever prays for sickness. It’s every doctor’s wish to see their patient walk out of hospital, all cured, happy, and healthy. And a patient’s death, is not just a tragedy for the family, but for the doctor as well. For example, today, I spent one hour by a patient’s bed, getting acquainted with him and his disease, so as to help provide best possible care. An exceptionally detailed history written, thorough examination, and proper explanation to the patient and relatives. And just after fifteen minutes i left him to see another patient, he coded. Despite all resuscitative efforts, he didn’t survive. Now the relatives have the luxury to express their feelings, either by crying, shouting, or whatever, whereas, a doctor has to just politely explain it, and maintain a sweet smiling demeanour, for the benefit of other patients. And this is in addition to the already present stress of having to declare someone dead.
I have heard a lot of people saying that doctors are cold, they don’t care about their patients, and are indifferent.
But what if doctors didn’t acclimatise themselves, condition themselves? The answer is pretty clear, psychiatric wards will be overflowing, and medical talent being wasted in the belly of depression. There will be no doctors left to care. And the balance of health care system, tipped.
I hope this answers the questions of people who believe that doctors don’t care. So for our sake, and yours, maintain a healthy lifestyle, moderation being the key, always smile, be happy, and let’s hope that you never have to spend time in those sterile hospital halls! 🙂

I love my profession, and am an aspiring surgeon. This post is a narration of a few important events of the day, along with answering the age old question, doctors don’t care. Thanks for reading! 🙂