पेशावर 16/12/2014

कल उड़ गये कुछ पंछी जिनके पंख ही नहीं ,

गरम हवाओं को चीरते ,ऐसे आसमान में ,जिसकी छत ही नहीं ,

ममता का दाना माँ के मुँह में ही रह गया,

निर्मम शिकारी का हर तीर छल गया।

किस बहरे भगवान से फ़रियाद करे माँ ,

किस अंधे अल्लाह को दिखाए दामन वीरान,

जब बन्दे के दिल से ख़ुद ,खुदा मर गया ,

इन्सानियत का जनाज़ा फिर एक बार निकल गया ।

She ...

My heart so still

Not a wind to move the leaves

Not a wave to sail on sea

Parched earth & withered flowers

Even the thoughts failed to be

The clock would not tick

Through a long endless night

So absolute was my death ...

Till she came and inspired a whiff of life. 

The end ...

My heart so still

Not a wind to move the leaves

Not a wave to sail on sea

Parched earth & withered flowers

Even the thoughts failed to be

The clock would not tick

Through a long endless night

So absolute was my death ...

She left, and so did life.

A Flower

A Flower

In your happiness
In your pain
In your loss
And in your gain
On your coat
On your bed
On your birth
Or on your death
As a symbol of
Love & devotion
I'm your friend
in every emotion.

कल आज और कल

A collaborative poem by Dr. Meenakshi Ahuja & Dr. Sanjay Dhawan:

वो भी क्या दिन थे:
मम्मी की गोद और पापा के कंधे
ना पैसे की सोच ना लाइफ के फंडे
ना कल की चिंता ना फ्यूचर के सपने
और अब
कल की है फ़िक्र और अधूरे हैं सपने
मुड़  कर देखा तो दूर हैं अपने
मंजिलों को ढूँढ़ते हम कहाँ खो गए 
ना जाने क्यूँ हम इतने बड़े हो गए ।
(मिनाक्षी)

कुछ ग़म नहीं
आज भी दिन हैं मस्त और रातें हैं अपनी
नटखट बच्चे, दबंग दोस्त और सेक्सी पत्नी
कुछ पूरे हुए सपने और कुछ की उम्मीद कल पर
कभी उप्पर कभी नीचे दौड़ रही है ज़िंदगी इस पथ पर
बूड़े हुए मात पिता और ढ़लता अपना योवन है
क्षण भर हंसी दो बूँद आंसू यही तो जीवन है ।
(संजय) 

Stok Kangri (6153 m), Ladakh: my coitus interruptus climb

Ladakh: a photographer's pilgrimage or orgasm

Ladakh is the ultimate photographic orgasm or pilgrimage - depending on whether you love photography or worship it. I have aways found the beauty of Ladakh breath-taking - figuratively & literally. And my expedition to Stok Kangri proved this statement even more true to it's meaning.

Stok Kangri (6153 m)

South of Leh in Ladakh, India, the peak dominates the skyline with it's snow covered summit touching 6153 m. One of the few 6000+ m peaks that can be reached by trekking & does not require any serious technical mountaineering training or equipment - this is the greatest lure of this mountain & the biggest trap. I succumbed to it.

“Kang” in Ladakhi means ice & “ri” means mountain and “Stok” is the name of the village that ushers the way to this peak. The approach location is Leh at an altitude of 3500 m - which itself requires serious acclimatization. There are two trailheads leading to the peak - first & shorter starts at Stok Village & second at Spituk. For want of time Stok Village was obvious choice - yes I was looking at short cut to success. It was going to be my first attempt at a serious 6000+ mountain & my first solo trek.

Plan

The itinerary was decided in consultation with my guide - Tashi Norbu Jayo (+91-9596929195 jayo_stok@yahoo.com):

Date	From	To	Comment	Altitude
26 Sept 11	Delhi	Leh / Stok	Rest & acclimatization	3600 m
27 Sept 11	Stok	Stok	Village walk & meet people	3600 m
28 Sept 11	Stok	Mankarmo	Trek & camp	4500 m
29 Sept 11	Mankarmo	Basecamp	Trek & camp	4900 m
30 Sept 11	Basecamp	Peak & back	Summit Push	6153 m
1 Oct 11	Basecamp	Stok Village	Descent	3600 m
2 Oct 11	Stok / Leh	Delhi	Return Flight	235 m

In addition to the guide there would be a cook (Mr. Chamba) & a pony man (Mr. Tsering Angchok) & of course four little ponies (the work horses).

Day 1 (26 September 2011, Monday)

I booked the morning Kingfisher flight from Delhi to Leh at a leisurely time of 8:45 am. Carefully I chose left window seat 04A - that’s the side to get you the best aerial views & photo opportunity (to the right on return). So from 235 m above sea level (Delhi) I reached Leh (3500 m) in just 1 hour 20 minutes - well that’s a perfect recipe for high altitude mountain sickness. However, to mitigate that I had started Diamox (actually Iopar-SR 250 mg twice a day - a slow release preparation) from the previous day, and I intended to take complete rest for 2 days before embarking on my strenuous journey up the mountains. The parasthesias (needles & pins tingling sensations) in my extremities were reassuring as they told me that Diamox was working - also a constant nagging reminder to breath deeply, consciously.

With my past experience of two visits to Ladakh (& especially the 5 day stay at Tangtse last year when the eventful cloud burst played havoc on Leh & Choglamsar), I expected to fare reasonably well at high altitude. Moreover, with a dedicated support team & option of  rapid descent, it was a safe proposition (for anything else I had the travel insurance).

Stok is a small quaint village southeast of Leh across the Indus river. Farming is the main occupation of people here & the population is sparse. Far from the maddening crowd it offers peace & serenity to it’s visitors, and some places for meditation. I chose homestay in this village with my guide’s sister’s (Tseang Yangzes) family. My room was a traditional one on the first floor with beautiful vistas visible from the windows & floor sitting arrangement. I crashed into the bed on arrival & took the rest of day easy.

Day 2 (27 September 2011, Tuesday)

The day began lazily with Ladakhi bread (Khambir) served in the breakfast - I don’t know why I felt a kind of a bond with the bread. The day was dedicated to walking around in the village and meeting local people - talking to them & imbibing their lives & culture. I had tea & biscuit at some place & fresh from the trees apples & apricots at others - they filled my spirit with palpable energy.


Having had a traditional lunch from my host's kitchen, I wandered into the fields & glades in the neighborhood. Gazing at the blue skies while ponies were grazing made me feel like I had blended into the field I lay in - the wind cutting through the leaves filled the air around me with soulful flute.
. . . I felt completely attached to the mother nature.

Back to homestay, the owner’s teenage daughter (Nurzinangmo) showed me their 200 years old heritage home - a gem hidden in the backyard of their modern home. I was transported to a different century. I had never thought time travel could be as simple or as profound as this.

Retired after packing my bags for tomorrow’s climb.

Day 3 (28 September 2011, Wednesday)

Hit the trailhead at 9:30 am (3600 m)  & started out after obtaining the climbing permit. Reached Changma (4000 m) at 12:30 pm - the half way mark, and reached Mankarmo (4500 m) at 3:30 pm.

The trail was well defined & clean. Mostly a gentle slope with a gradient of about 20-35 degrees (maximum 45 degrees in short stretches). But even a 30 degree felt like 60 degree in terms of breathlessness it caused. There were also long stretches of rock fields in valley through which streams were flowing.

Took a half hour break for lunch at Changma - only an established busy trail could have a chai-dhabba. And previous to that was a short poo break - thanks to mild diarrhea which certified my traveller status.

My journey was rewarded by encounter with Bharal or Himalayan Blue Sheep. These graceful small animals dot the slopes of Himalayas & form a pleasant sight. Wild horses, cows & Ladakhi crows are the other life from seen on this trail. The mountains & views were beautiful all around. Every step was a step into heaven & at every turn a new vista unfolded.

I was doing very well on the musculo-skeletal front but the cardio-respiratory department was overworked - I was deliberately breathing hard & deep. Deep breaths supplied more oxygen to the brain - as a result any sensation of an impending headache simply vanished. I was glad.

The camp at Mankarmo was a nice flat next to a water stream & gazing directly at Stok Kangri & Golep Kangri (flat topped but technically more difficult peak). An out house toilet enclosure was a luxury that is hard to find on such altitudes - but thanks to Indian Mountaineering Foundation- it was an attempt to maintain the ecology of the place.

Alone in a two men tent I enjoyed my space which would have been cramped for two. It was quite cold with evening temperature inside the tent dipping to 5 degrees - that heralded a freezing outdoors at night. As a result I was hesitant to go out to the kitchen tent for the dinner. However, the venture was rewarded by hot soup in a cosy tent warmed by kerosene stove. Dinner was a satisfying experience.

My fears of cold were unfounded. No sooner than I zipped up my tent & my -5 degree Quechua sleeping bag, I became warm enough to sweat. I had to shed my Sherpa fleece layer & felt comfortable in base-layer. However, what knocked constantly at the door at night was a pounding headache which initially I resisted with breathing hard & deep but in the morning I had to resort to consuming Voveran-D (chewable Diclofenanc my favorite for headaches & pains). Another hour of sleep & the headache was gone & with it were gone my fear of having to abandon further journey. I shared my fears with my guide after getting up for a late morning breakfast but assured him that I was ready to roll (however, cautioned the support team to start an hour later than us).

Day 4 (29 September 2011, Thursday)

Late start from Mankarmo (4500 m) at 10:45 am due to headache & slowly moved on to reach Basecamp at 1:30 pm (4900 m). Support team was instructed to start an hour later & they crossed us at about half-way through. The trail was a gentle uphill gradient of about 25-35 degrees throughout & mixed with rock-fields along river streams.

It was tough for me - I was extremely breathless. I needed to stop every 10 steps or so to recover my oxygen debt. My mind was wandering all this time about how would it be at the basecamp & during the summit-push (if there was going to be one). I thought that this would be my last endurance trek, I was happy with the enjoyable family holidays. I was tired & out of oxygen. But then I thought that I must do it for my family & my friends who wished me success at my attempt. So I went on.

Reaching basecamp I just sat on my camp chair for half an hour & had tea & biscuits. Felt energized again.

My tent was placed on a smooth level ground - first time I wouldn’t have to struggle in my sleeping bag. A rare luxury in a camp.

A poo trip took me out in the open with cold wind blowing all around me.

Lunch was hot & sumptuous with vegetable / potato pulao followed by refreshing water-melon. It gave me enough fuel to walk around in the camp & do some photography.

Early dinner at 7:00 pm & retirement at 8:00 pm in order to plan & prepare for the summit push the next morning. We would be starting out at 4:00 am before the day break - a big day ahead.

Day 5 (30 September 2011, Friday) - Summit Push

I woke up at 3:30 am, got ready & we set out at 4:40 am from the Basecamp (4900 m). Touched the 6000 m mark at 3:00 pm & managed to get back by 8:00 pm to the Basecamp. What was meant to be a strenuous trek for 10 hours got stretched to grueling 15 hours on feet (& on lungs).

The day actually began the previous night with preparation about what to wear & what to pack. The aim was to dress enough for the below -15 degree C anticipated and carry the things to be used & for emergency. But at the same time the objective was to travel the lightest possible.

I needed to rest  & sleep the previous night but simply could not. But I didn’t mind staying awake because of fear of aggravating AMS (Acute Mountain Sickness) during sleep. During sleep the respiratory drive is decreased leading to an increased severity of symptoms of AMS - as happened to me during the night at previous camp (Mankarmo). I was finally out of bed at 3:30 am getting ready for the day. Well, the only “nature’s call” to be heard today was the “call of the summit”. Had tea & biscuits for breakfast & started off.

As I moved there were apprehensions about AMS on my mind but I was confident about everything else - that was the weather, my physical ability to climb & my desire to do so.

I moved slowly and steadily to climb up to the high mountain pass after the basecamp. It was a steep slope with a an inclination of about 50-60 degrees & made of all smooth soil without much hold. It wasn’t too difficult to climb up it - I was more scared at the thought of having to descend it later that day (which later turned out to be even more scary). After the pass it was long gradual uphill walk on a narrow trail to the advanced basecamp. Somewhere here we were greeted my morning snow.

My lips & tip of nose began to get tingling & pin-prick sensations & very soon I could not feel them. I lifted the tube of my hydration bladder to sip on water, I heard a crackling sound & when I bit on its mouth piece I felt a crunch but no water came through - it had all frozen inside the tube. I reached for my bandana to put it back across my face as protection from cold wind, all I could feel of the bandana was a shapeless paper-mache art. Welcome to the world far below 0 degree.

Advanced basecamp gave the first glimpse of the beautiful glacier. This camp has been abandoned to preserve the ecology of the place. Next was one long stretch of of rock & moraine field which somehow I had no difficulty in traversing.

First steps on the glacier were exhilarating & the further I walked the more I was in awe of its beauty. May be it was my first experience of any place like this but I found the place genuinely spectacular & rewarding in itself. Midst of the glacier you are faced with 180 degrees of snow covered wall of mountains which gently feed this smooth river if ice. Here you just need to avoid slipping or falling into a crevasse (there are not supposed to be too many). I did manage to slip & fall but without any hurt - fortunately didn’t fall into a crevasse as we didn’t have any gear or preparation for crevasses rescue (or may be there aren’t any real deep crevasses).

On the far bank of the glacier was another short spread of moraine field that was crossed with any problem.

Until this point my breathing was comfortable except  for a normal awareness of being at high altitude. But here on as the gradient of the trail turned up so did the severity of the graph of my AMS. Now was the climb to the shoulder which the guide had earlier hinted as being “steep”. To my eyes it was an inclination of about 65-75 degrees. The slope was a mix of smooth soil, scree & rocky patches but never was there a hint of comfort in the ingredients.

As I climbed my AMS worsened from one breathing cycle for two steps to one complete cycle for every single step forward. Every 10 steps or so I paused to recover my breath. I kept breathing hard to keep my brain lucid & to keep my body working. Somewhere close to the shoulder I was stopping after every 2-3 steps to lean forward & rest my head on my hiking pole to take recovery breaths which increased from a few to as many as 50 to give my mind some clarity. I was beginning to lose my balance & my vision beginning to become unclear as though I was watching a dream. I avoided taking any long sitting breaks because that would cool the body down & then re-starting was an ordeal. I also noticed that this part of the journey was not very easy for my guide too even though he had shed part of his load at the bottom of the slope - the shed load included our precious torches & headlights.

I was beginning to feel drowsy& felt that I could fall asleep while resting my head on hiking pole. A fall - asleep or otherwise was something I could not afford at this stage of the climb. I struggled my way up to the shoulder (5800 m) - a narrow bend of rocks. From here the gradient eased to about 20-30 degrees of gentle traverse. The trail, however, still not an easy cakewalk - it wasn’t too difficult but still required strenuous effort. And to over-worked limbs, hard pounding heart & a choked out brain every little effort counted.

The views were amazing. Panorama of himalayas on either side of the ridge spanning almost 360 degrees. I tried hard to spot K2 - I saw a couple of high standing peaks to north-west but there was no way of knowing if I saw K2. As the spectacle more breath-taking, the more breath was I losing. I could have easily slept off at the shoulder & my guide almost did. After this first long rest since we started in the morning I decided to get up & move on - after all life is all about getting up & moving on. Slowly we started negotiating up the narrow ridge. Yes, it wasn’t difficult but did require some effort & concentration. I still needed to pause every few steps to recover my breath - if at all that could be called a poor attempt at recovery.

We trudged on breathing, pausing, recovering & enjoying wonderful views on both sides of the ridge. The glacier with its surrounding bowl of appeared even more magnificent with distant himalayan peaks forming a frill on its top. Towards north were endless views of peaks p some of which standing really very high. Each time I looked north my drowsy mind filled with thoughts of K2 - there was no way to know & my mind was too groggy to ask.

I now saw another row of prayer flags - at least they reminded us to pray, whether our prayers written on them were taken to the heavens by the cold wind - only heaven knows. Winds were very strong & cold but that did not pose any difficulty rather it infused in me a feeling of a high. I paused, rested, breathed & breathed (without counting). My head was dizzy, my vision was misty & dreamy & my feet unsteady - if someone were to test me for balance by making me walk on straight line, I would fail miserably. It is so foolish that all throughout my climb the entire respiratory physiology & AMS ran through my mind  like a documentary - as if I was revising it all before my professional medical exams. Is my heart pounding at its maximal rate? Am I breathing too hard - hard enough to grab all the oxygen molecules in the air or am I washing out too much CO2 ? Am I hypocapnoeic? Am I in respiratory acidosis? Are the paresthesias in extremities due to Diamox or cold? That my cardio-respiratory system working at its best could only meet the demand of either the musculo-skeletal system or my brain - it could not satisfy both. Is my foggy vision a sign of papilloedema? Do I have early snow blindness or the irritation in eyes due to dry air? Being a doctor can be both a boon & a bane - a medical mind is always obsessed with physiology or pathology of one’s own body. Doctors tend to think of the worst possible complications & medical catastrophes especially when it comes to themselves or their kin. Doctors can’t be patient.

Suddenly a thought struck me & I looked at the watch - it was 3:00 pm. I asked the guide, “What is the cut-off time for the summit”? He returned a blank look - either he found my question stupid or he did not understand it. I repeated my question & he repeated his look - I got my answer & also the reason why it’s called a non-technical peak. I realized that his is to guide & mine is to lead. I put my limping brain back on some quick action & did some cold calculations. I had touched 6000 m mark but some 150 odd meters were yet to go & with my crawling pace & oxygen breaks every 4-5 steps, it would take me another 1-2 hours to reach the top. That would mean about 4 pm leaving just 2 hours of daylight. And in 2 hours it seemed impossible that I could descend to the bottom of the slope where our stashed bag & headlights were lying - I did not even consider estimating if we would be able to cross the glacier & the moraine in daylight.

I decided. I turned to my guide & said, “Let us go down”. He said, “Doctor the summit is very close by & we can reach it in 1 hour”. I just said, “We are going down”.

Climbing down was easier & I needed less frequent oxygen breaks. But I was still as slow & my mind still as much in haze. At sunset we reached the spot where are goodies were lying safe in a bag. And by the time we reached the it was dark. Half way down the ice river we has to switch the headlights on. Then came the long rock & moraine field which was little more difficult to negotiate than earlier. The headlight made this rock strewn surface look weirdly two dimensional - so it was difficult to judge if you were stepping on the rocks or between them.

In the far distance I noticed shimmering lights of the city of Leh but nowhere could I see the end of rock field or a glimpse of advanced basecamp. We kept moving on hopping rock after rock & then checking to see any trace of the abandoned advanced basecamp. Suddenly I could see two pairs of eye red glows - I could identify one pair - a pony & I could correctly guess the second - the pony-man who had come there on a rescue mission because we did not return to the base camp by 5:00 pm. It was 7:00 pm now & it was reassuring to see help at hand. But how? They insisted that I got on to the pony for the rest of the journey back to the basecamp - which meant traversing down the narrow trail to the mountain pass & then down the dreaded steep descent to the basecamp. I didn’t have much time to decide or a position to negotiate. I surrendered - I knew that these animals are extremely able & reliable on the mountains. On the other hand was the animal I could not trust - my AMS. Hesitatingly I climbed on to his back - and my hesitation had nothing to do with my ego - I was simply afraid. The animal lived up to his reputation & my expectations. Safely did he bring me down to the basecamp. I was still scared throughout the ride - which strangely I found bumpy yet thrilling. Funnily I thought to myself that this is exactly what was required to make the picture of my adventure complete.

8:00 pm I was comfortably lodged in my tent at the basecamp. I wasn’t breathless any more - rapid descent it the treatment of choice for AMS. I was extended the privilege of being served hot soup & maggie noodles right inside the comfort of my tent.

There was ample time but no energy or state of mind to write my journal and the end of that eventful day - I completed that chore later. But the mind could not help but reflect on the happenings of the day. In the hind-sight it was very logical decision to get back without obsessively clutching to the lust of the summit. It was also justified to to push myself to the 6000 m mark - “Take it to the limit” - yes, I did see some birds soaring high up there over the mountains but my vision was too hazy make out if they were eagles or Ladakhi crows. We do get the choice to test out limits, we also have the choice to improve our limits by training & perseverance but what is our limit is not of our choosing. I’m glad I tested mine.

Day 6 (1 October 2011, Saturday)

Lazy morning - the morning after. I got up at 8:00 am & did not feel any rush to pack my bags & get ready for the return trip. After a lethargic breakfast I started down at 10:15 am - this time I walked all alone. Before starting, a short uphill walk to the toilet point was a quick reminder of yesterday’s AMS.

Walk down the trail was comfortable & enjoyable. I decided to indulge the day in my passion of photography - so there were no more oxygen breaks but shutter-release breaks. Therefore, today I only carried my camera bag. And it turned out to be the most “enjoyable” day to the trek - no pressure of reaching the summit, no chasing after the oxygen molecules. Reached Stok village at an unhurried 5:00 pm. Ended the day with an extended long bath, phoned back home to tell my wife that I was still alive, had dinner, packed for the next day’s journey & diary time. I could have written endlessly were it not interrupted by my involuntarily falling off to sleep - a fall that I could now not only afford but also desired.

Day 7 (2 October 2011, Sunday)

Time to go back home. Early morning & I stole a walk to the village to capture a few last parting shots. It was also the time for photographing my host’s family.

As I waited to board the air-plane the words kept flowing down my pen. And then it was time to position in my chosen right window seat 03A ready with the camera settings to shoot through the sky. I’m glad that I could capture some aerial shots of Stok Kangri. Looking at her my eyes were wet - may be I was just missing the drying effect of cold summit wind . . .

No I'm not Anna. Don't jail me, I support corruption . . .

I wasn't really born when the saga started. End of first trimester & I wanted to know my sex, for a small premium on the fee the ultra-sonologist obliged me. Happy to learn that I was a male I decided to abort abortion.
At 9 months I could have descended the normal channel but my obstetrician did not want to take any chances (or lose opportunity) so I came out the Caesarian way - that was my first lesson in opening the alternate doors.
The obstetrician in her rush completely forgot the technical flaw in my date of birth - I didn't want to lose a year of school due to this chronological blunder. The remedy, however, was simple & the MCD clerk didn't charge too much for tweaking my almanac.
What was not easy was the entry to the school. I called all my connections & pulled all the string to get myself a seat. When nothing worked I took to the old trusted route - and actually what is wrong in supporting the forever under construction school building?
Thereafter, life was simple. School projects were simple digital exercises in reassembling the downloaded data - it also helped me keep my parents occupied. I didn't have to stoop too low to buy leaked question papers, I could afford the / de capitation. And taking private tuition classes from the teachers ensured a comfortable passage through the exam trail.
I could become anything a doctor, engineer, a police officer, a politician, a business man, a lawyer, a judge, a clerk in the office or even a senior IAS officer - I had the basic qualification common to all. So I come in many Avatars: When I'm a doctor I forget Hippocrates & go ahead to cut where a gentle touch could do wonders, when I'm an engineer I cut corners to fatten my dough, when I'm police it's easy I don't need to do anything & they just keep filling my pockets, as a business man I work hard to earn & harder to hide from taxes, when I drive I'm in my own world where there are no rules and you will never find in my actions what you would hear in the words that I preach. Sports doesn't mean that you have to play hard to earn gold - the real game is off the field which I play to my last breath.
I feast when they fast or some starve. Money is my God & corruption is my religion. Call me a pedigreed Indian if you will, but don't accuse me of being Anna . . .

To hell with Tagore . . .

Where the mind is messed with fear & head hangs low
Where knowledge is a farce
Where the world & hearts are broken up
into pieces by craters in ground & minds
Where words craft many layers of lies;
Where tireless treachery stretches its arms towards deception;
Where the conning stream of treason
has not lost its way into the dreary desert sand of dead patriotism
Where the minds are led astray by them into ever-widening distrust & hatred
Into that slavery of corruption, my Father has let my country sleep.

Tagore weeps.

Keep the faith . . .

Gutsy job !, originally uploaded by heartthatbeats.

"If God were perfect, there would be no disease, no death". And we expect doctors to cure all diseases without any complications & to help us purchase an eternal life.

Now that we have bags full of money, we look upon the hospital as though they were megastore where we could walk in and buy good health, cure for all the God-made-diseases, have the wrinkles on our face tweaked and book ourselves piped supply of youthful life delivered right into the comfort of our homes. We even want to buy this state-of-the-art on-demand available 24x7 erection of whichever part of our body and our spirits.

Well, To Insure Prompt service we can TIP (new-age name for consultation fee) the sales boys or girls (again new-age name for doctors). And because we pay them they have to deliver what we bought, deliver well-packed without a blot on the wrapper. Dare you remove the price tag, we want our friends to see that.

How very foolishly human we are !

Actually God made disease & death on purpose and He made them so perfect that no human can ever change that.

Think about it.

Only God is perfect !

This sonata of sarcasm has been inspired by recent reports of medical negligence and public unrest towards doctors and hospitals.

The general perspective towards human body & life has become warped these days. And the ability to spend money gives people a sense of omnipotence - so when they can afford to buy a perfect cure & a long life then why can't doctors & hospitals deliver? This is impossible because neither is human body a machine whose parts & processes are well-defined & predictable that could be re-engineered to perfection, nor are doctors Gods who by the stroke of their magical hands could make diseased, degenerating & dying bodies new.

I do not mean to endorse negligence or medical malpractices. For the people on the other side, I still maintain that medicine is not a business but a noble profession whose main objective is to deliver compassionate care and money is only a byproduct meant for sustaining the main product.

I do believe that all major & un-expected medical outcomes & mishaps should be investigated in detail to increase scientific knowledge and to rule out / confirm any negligence. All negligence should be penalized. But the natural course of the disease, unavoidable complications of a procedure and unexpected response of the body should not be construed as negligence.

The patient & family has right to know what happened but they also have the duty to understand it in the right perspective. They also need to believe.

No doctor ever wants his patient to have complications. No doctor ever wants his patient to die. It does not even make commercial sense for the doctor or the hospital.

It is a fact that many a doctors have become the victim of the same greed that plagues the rest of our society and corporates owning the "flourishing healthcare industry" focused more on the top lines and the bottom lines - life line gets blurred out somewhere in-between.

Be warned that it is very naive to believe that government hospitals or doctors working there are sacrosanct. The stories of happiness and the stories of sorrow are equally prevalent everywhere - and so are the stories of greed or negligence.

Our healthcare system is not ideal but there is no fool-proof system anywhere in the world. If our system lacks accountability then it may be disheartening to know that one of the most accountable system in the west has the highest rate of medical litigation.

I wish there were a system where money was never a consideration in the doctor-patient relationship. Where money would not be a factor in how the medical systems were established and the medicine practised. Where money would not be dictating a patient's expectations out of doctors, disease or death. A system where there was no money but still high values !

Yes, I know I'm a dreamer !

Whatever be the system in place, whatever be the reality on ground, let us not forget that we all have to die one day. Death is inevitable, it may come in different forms and shapes and sizes, it may come at different places and in different hands but come it surely will. And before she arrives she will send her messengers, her agents in the form of pain & disease. This is the natural culmination of the body, the natural culmination of life. The old torn and worn-out clothes have to be shed.

However, we always remain !

So, keep the faith.

Kutumb

Dhawans, originally uploaded by heartthatbeats.

We share the same roof, the same floor. Cry the same tear, laugh the same laughter, eat the same food and fight the same fight. We thank the accident of nature that brought us together. We share the same dreams and the same fears. Same are our likes and prejudices. Should the ruthless destiny ever rip us apart - we will still always remain - a Family !

Happy Valentine's Day !

On Valentine's Day the best expression of love is through a song. And how I wish I could have put here pictures of all the beautiful girls that I wanted to sing it for but survival instinct made me put my photographs of flowers instead !

I'm not a Valentine's day kind of a person and even my age doesn't permit me to be. But then what made me so loony & tuny?

दूरदर्शन पे एक समाचार देखा तो खून खौल उठा | हाथ में हथ्यार नहीं तो लेखनी से वार करने की इच्छा जाग उठी | देखा "राम की सेना" को कुछ "सीताओं" का तिरस्कार करते | योद्धाओं को देखा माताओं और बहनों के मुहँ पर अपना बल प्रर्दशित करते - प्रदर्शन जो की "रावन" को भी लज्जित कर दे | "राम सैनिक" जो भारतीय संस्कृति की सफ़ेद चादर में अपनी नपुंसकता छुपाये निर्बल नारियों को ज़मीन पे पटकते रहे | और बाकी रहा पौरुष दिखाना चाहते हैं St. Valentine पर |

So here's a special message to "Ram Sainiks" - Sita swayamwar was in no way less than any Valentine's day where a girl can exercise her right to choose her prospective groom. Dashrath did ages ago what later St. Valentine was to repeat. So on this Valentine's day all the "Ram Sainiks" should go home are revise their Ramayan.

But looking at those "Ram Sainiks" it's hard to even imagine if they would have ever looked at Ramayan, let alone read it.

सीता माता का पलन किसी पुरूष से कम नहीं हुआ | राम को दूर से देख कर ही सीता का हृदय विश्वस्त था की वोही उसके जीवन साथी होंगे | राजा दशरथ की विचार धारा शायद आज से भी युगों आगे थी | और ये पत्थर युग के मुट्ठालिक अगर शर्म से पत्थर भी बन जाएँ तो कोई राम इन्हे पाँव भी ना लगायें |

यह प्रेम गीत है सभी नारियों के प्रति प्रेम की अभिव्यक्ति एवं राम सैनिकों के लिए ललकार - अगर मुट्ठालिक जी ने दूध पिलाया है तो आओ और मुझे अपनी मर्दानगी दिखाओ |

Hey Ram !

The most abusive words - "stay calm".

Weapons from WW II, originally uploaded by heartthatbeats.

Kandhar, Delhi, Mumbai, Parliament, Redfort ...... "Bharatmata" (Mother India) is being repeatedly raped and gang-raped, and our most senior sons of the nation - our leaders come on national channels and utter the most abusive words, "stay calm". Watch your mother being raped while we workout a peaceful resolution of the crisis in the larger interest ... interests larger than the nation herself. "Stay calm" till you join many of your brethren in the calm of the death.

"If you watch while your women folk are being insulted and do nothing. It is not non-violence, it is cowardice" - said Mahatama Gandhi, the greatest proponent of peace. And today's politicians in power, the disciples of Gandhian philosophy, have been mute spectators to the terror "tamasha".

Do we need morose leaders who address the nation in slow motion and cold blood to only offer the impotent words, "stay calm"? Do we need leaders who let the nation die while clutching hard to the last breaths of their political life?

Where are the charismatic leaders who would shed the last drop of their blood to save the national dignity? Where are the politician who would dare to sacrifice even 100 of our own for eliminating every single terrorist, every single anti-Indian? Where are the ministers who would inspire in their fellow men, a will to die for the nation?

12 million jews were exterminated between 1939-1945 at the hand of Nazis, just because they stayed "calm" and so stayed the Americas and the Britains. The war against the Axis powers was foght for reasons other than humanitarian. For the dying jews there was only a sinister "calm".

If we stay "calm" or wait for the Americas and the Britains to come and help us out, then we will need to wait till our funeral. If we do not shed our "calm" then only the "calm" of death will prevail.

You can often hear the world politicians screaming that democracy will wield its magic wand and the terrorism would be gone. If democracy, peace, non-violence could deal with terrorism, there would never ever be any terrorism in India. A terrorist would pay heed to the meaning of the word "non-violence" if only it came from the lips of strong, powerful and potent people like the president of America and not from the Home Minister of India.

Masses are tricked into believing religion is the cause & cure of terrorism. The other religion killed your, so you go kill others'. Least do we realize that religion is just a divisive tool in the hands of politicians that help them stay in power. We, as fools, get controlled by it.

These days religion has got nothing to do with God. Religion dumped God a long long time ago and, therefore, God dumped religion.

Dad, I win !

My daddy strongest, originally uploaded by simran_anand88.

Son, you win, I win.

You lose, I die.

Move on

Move on, originally uploaded by heartthatbeats.

Two limbs that are there
two that are not
two too little to live in this world
two too much to move on ...

Zyklon B

Holocaust Memorial, originally uploaded by heartthatbeats.

Millions just swept away like particles of dust. And their memory as dead as they themselves. Children, women and old alike, killed as though they were "born to die", or like pests removed from harvest - the harvest of death. The science of murder predates the science of cloning by decades. Had heard of "neccessity is the mother of invention" but for Zyklon B & IBM Punch-card Machine - "death gave birth to these invention".

What is the final solution to human madness?

About 9-11 million people were exterminated in holocaust out of which 6 million were Jews (estimates ranging from 5.1 to 6.2 millions) in the death factories between the years 1939-1945.

Don't believe it? Following the links below for getting convinced:

The Holocaust (Wikipedia)

United States Holocaust Memorial Museum

Holocaust Survivors

The Holocaust History Project Homepage

The World Must Know: The History of the Holocaust as Told in the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum

Death Dealer: The Memoirs of the SS Kommandant at Auschwitz

Commandant of Auschwitz : The Autobiography of Rudolf Hoess

If you feel sad learning the truth, don't blame me, just say a prayer...

Butterfly-by-night !

Nectoronics !, originally uploaded by heartthatbeats.

And there she sat in front of me. Her eyes enquiring, "what next?"

I hadn't fancied or fantasized encountering a butterfly although I had questioned myself as to how I would react to one. No wonder I was unprepared, I would not even recognize were she not introduced by another flower. While fellow flowers fluttered, I shyied away folding my petals and hiding in the dark of the night. I could have had all her skillful love for a little nectar - no but I would not part, I wouldn't exchange.

"Toss the dice", she said "and make fortune of the night". "I don't gamble", was my muffled reply. Before she could open her wings, I walked away.

The close encounter with a butterfly ended before it began.

Drama in Ladakh Sky

Drama in Sky, originally uploaded by heartthatbeats.

It was drama unfolding in the sky. The plot thickened to the climax as the sun descended. I heard the air whisper in my ears - drink it as much as you can and get drunk, tonight's your last here you may not return soon.

Now, I'm looking back, longing for Ladakh !

Smile in the face of adversity

When the going gets tough, originally uploaded by heartthatbeats.

आसमान को चूमती मेरी आकांक्षाएं

फ़ौलाद से बुलंद मेरा हौसला

प्रकाश की गति से तेज़ मेरी कल्पना

दुखों के पीछे भाग, उन्हें दूर भगाती मेरी मुस्कान

मत देखो मेरा शरीर, मत समझो मुझे अपाहिज

मैं मेरा शरीर नहीं ।

एक निरर्थकता का एहसास !

एक प्रश्न जो सभी बुद्धिजीवी सोच को निशब्द करता है - वह है:

मैं क्या हूँ और मैं क्यूं हूँ।

कईं रातें बेचैन करवटें बदलती रहीं, कईं शामें चाय की सुर्खियाँ भरती रहीं इसी प्रश्न के कारण । उत्तर जैसे रेगिस्तान का पानी, जितने कदम बढाये उसकी ओर उतना ही दूर पाया उसे अपने होटों से । चारों ओर बचा केवल एक निरार्थक सा एहसास और जीवन चल रहा है एक टीले से दूसरे टीले पर एक बूँद की तलाश में ...

Love is a wonder ...

Taj Mahal, Agra, India, originally uploaded by heartthatbeats.

Is she an imagination of a dreamer or a dream of a lover
Is it words of a poem or colors of a painter
Drawings of an architect or craftsmanship of a mason.
Whatever she is but she's surely the mecca of photographers all trying to capture her and take her home.
Wah Taj ! Or you may choose to say Wow Taj !!

More photos of Taj !

Taj - A Love Poem !

Taj - A Love Poem !, originally uploaded by heartthatbeats.

Peacefully she lays there enshrined by a monument of love. But she needs to wake up again in the heart of Mughal children and kindle the light to make them see that it's easy to kill but difficult to love. And that a killer is forgotten as easily but the lover lives on in every morning sunrise and everyevening sunset, in stones and in misty air.

More photos of Taj !

Kashmir screams ...

Sonmarg, Kashmir, originally uploaded by heartthatbeats.

I was so beautiful, so innocent - a much envied virgin. Then they came and ravaged me - sometimes in the name of men and sometimes in the name of God. So unrelegiously did they devour me as though there was no God - and probably there wasn't.
I see no light ahead. Will I ever be someone's wedded wife or will I always remain a mistress of no one?
It's me, Kashmir.

This image shot in June 2003 at Sonamarg, Kashmir, on a transparency - Reala 100 with Nikon F80 & 24mm F2.8 Lens - scanned.

Visit to Kashmir was a dream come true and living in a house-boat at Dal Lake, Srinagar is a truth that's so dreamy !