Hey.. its me, Tanisha a 21 year old girl studying medicine in India.
well while i am into those intellectual,vastly informative books of medicine I accidentally explored my love for writing and its THERAPEUTIC. ( Who among us here won't agree?) therefore it is the sole intention of coming to this blog.
coming to my life again, i am currently residing in the southern part of India but i come from this amazing place on Himalayas called Kinnaur. both the parts are quite opposite in terms of climate, demographics as well as cultures but i almost equally rejoice them.( except i miss my family)
i have an extremely thoughtful and caring elder brother , mother whom i quote as the strongest lady i have known my entire life and a very kind father who mean the world to me.
Getting this seat of medicine in a government funded college of India isnt a cake walk, so did i do my part of fight as well and ended up here.
Life isnt that bad here you know, but there is this void i feel when it comes to interacting with people. i am not very good with their local language kannada. and it did hurt all those times i was standing blank before those eyes starving for the gesture of comfort and ears waiting for the words of hope.
this incident was when i was posted for learning course in medicine ward and we interacted with a newly diagnosed patient with stomach cancer. a dusky , lean man. with bright smile and sparky eyes yet the shrunken muscles didnt support him to make it a happy face. assuming me as the appointed doctor, he asked the very question " Doctor, i am doing better right!" with those words he piled up the stack of recent reports he had got in the morning. i scanned through them, compared with the previous reports. And here.. it was getting worse! a tinge of despair happened to be visible on my face and he asked again the very question. i quickly covered the dumps with the smile and gathered all my courage, answered " you will be fine soon" in my broken kannada. i packed the reports and handled him. i wished my kannada speaking friends could comfort him a little but they seemed involved in another discussion. i satrted walking towards the other bed, and he thanked me with his palms together with more luster in his eyes and the lips straight, widening his smile. This was my first experience when i got the offering of gratefulness for a fake assurance. I still dont know whether i had cherished it or carried as a lump of guilt. but i did say a little prayer in hope that the light of life in him should sustain.
While i am writing it down, i feel grateful being alive.
While i am writing it down, i feel grateful being alive.
it will be wrong if i call this as the perk of studying medicine that you come across the deepest of human feelings. only the human part of medicine fascinates me so much. (i am not so much into books and techniques of medicine <my bad!> but i have full faith that this other force will carry me through all of this)
so in the coming blogs i wont really be writing like a diary, but i will surely jot down the things make me ponder deep.
stay tuned for the coming blog. have agreat time!
