Dr Bindumenon

It was one of my regular days to work.  I was watching the crowd outside from my car. At a traffic signal, I saw a young guy on a motorcycle stream past several vehicles with such twisted precision and reach the starting point. He seemed to be in a marathon race. He was constantly racing his very nice bike and the sound resonated everywhere.  He was the centre of attraction!  As we got the green signal I could hear his bike speeding off. I know him he is an employee at my place of work. While I reach my workplace, I saw him rushing to the elevators. Well, he had just gained a couple of minutes that me!  “I don’t have the time.”   It’s a phrase we hear daily. We live in an age of rush—fast food, fast eating, fast i.e. quick naps, fast internet, fast travel, fast texting.  And hence, as we rush, we also expect our returns to come at the same speed, which hardly ever happens.  We have forgotten to live in the present by chasing the ticking of ...

It was a holiday.  However, having just returned from a ten-day break, I had some pending follow-up consultations and reports to attend to.  After lunch, at the scheduled time, I called my secretary to check if any patients had arrived. Experience had taught me that while many insist on appointments, few actually show up on holidays.  “There are just two patients, madam,” he informed me. “I’ll come now,” I replied.  “Madam, Why don’t you wait? More people might come. Why do you want to waste your time?” he suggested.  I warmed at his concern and said, “It’s not their fault that they arrived on time and followed discipline. Why punish them for being responsible?”  I reached the clinic and saw my patients. As expected, there were long intervals of waiting, but I had no complaints. I used the time productively, catching up on other work. More importantly, I had done justice to those who had honoured their time and commitment.  I chose kindness over co...

Every day feels like a test now.   My profession requires me to meet hundreds of people. Most of the time, I don’t need to know them deeply. That’s the nature of my work. I can stay in my professional space, focus on my patients, and give my best to them. I’ve immersed myself so deeply in the medical world that I understand patients and caregivers well. I can often predict what they think, how they act, and react, and what they need or expect. Well. Almost most of the time!! But this deep professional involvement came at a cost—I became a novice in my personal life. As years passed, I aged both personally and professionally but matured only professionally.   I started to understand that the rules of personal and professional relationships are entirely different. Personal relationships, especially those outside your family, often come with conditions.  They change.   They can be deceptive, sometimes intriguing, but many a time, they are heartbreaking. I’ve always trus...

When I turned 50, I reached a physical and hormonal milestone — menopause.   As far I was concerned, it was a mild physical transformation, but what jolted me was the profound….. shift in my mental and emotional space.   While I had gracefully attained my physical half-century, away from all the   risk factors that often accompany age, I realized that my mental maturity hadn’t reached its age As I embraced my physical maturity, my mind began its first baby steps. Life taught me and I had to rewrite my thoughts, perceptions, and understanding of the people in this world.   I learned Trust is fluid . Long-standing bonds that I felt would never shake crumbled in a fraction of a second. I understood that it is better to let go to embrace self-peace. Some relationships teach us life lessons   Instincts are power banks . One should listen to the inner voice even when the outer world appears contradictory. I started trusting my inner voice more now.   Set boundari...

Last night, while I was rushing home from work, I overheard a young couple arguing, their voices heavy with emotion. The woman's voice trembling was speaking through her tears “I spent my whole life sacrificing. I did not enjoy anything in my life. I have always kept your happiness as a priority, and now look at what you have done”.   “My love was unconditional, but yours was not.”  The whole staircase resonated with her words “My unconditional love” I climbed the stairs, feeling miserable for the woman who loved him so deeply.  It made me wonder—what does unconditional love truly mean?  I suppose the definition is equal to selfless love, a never-ending stream of sacrifices but without any expectation.  Is love truly unconditional if it makes someone feel depleted, unseen, and unappreciated?  Perhaps unconditional love is more nuanced. It isn’t just about giving endlessly at the cost of one’s happiness. It also means loving with a sense of completeness...

The Scripted Life  It was a crowded place   Almost everyone seemed to be talking, coughing, sneezing or in pain. I too let out a sneeze. My mother immediately wiped my face and nose and took me nearer. I dug my face into her lap.   Suddenly there was a hush and I saw people getting up. I too got up on my feet and sneezed again.   A tall man with a long white coat and a black pipe around his neck looked down while passing by and kept his hand on my head. I touched his white coat.   Soft, pure, and magical.   I asked my mother “ Who is he?” She said he is a big Doctor. He will stop you from sneezing   As a little girl, I could imagine the power in his hands .  “The Power of Healing”   I looked at the queue in front and behind me. It seemed endless on either side. My mother asked, “ Are you hungry”. I nodded. She fished out a Parle G biscuit, and I devoured it with a few sneezes in between. I peeped into the doctor’s room as the door was complet...

In my years of practising medicine, certain incidents linger in my mind.  Once, as I was rushing out of the emergency room, a family bound to me by their neurological diseases quickly approached me. They were in grief. Their son, a careful driver who followed every traffic rule, was on the operating table after a drunk driver ran into him. He was sick, and they were struggling to deal with how unfair it all seemed. They asked me, “Doctor, how could this happen to him? He did everything right.”  Their words resonated with an experience I had years ago when my daughter was in school. It was her school’s annual function, and she had a major role. The school had prohibited cameras at the event. I respected the rule and left mine at home. But when the event began, I was surprised to see most parents go very near the stage, cameras in hand, recording every moment of their children’s performances.  My daughter was amazing, and while I captured every moment in my heart, I have no...