The tiny pieces are
Strewn across,
After your heart,
Slipped from your fragile
Leaving you
Confused as to
How to collect and
Your life
From shards,
That pierce and prick,
And pain and bleed.
Wouldn’t it be
Easier to sweep
Them away,
Better to be never seen!
In emotional numbing.

You think
People will do
What you think,
Embrace and love
You through thick and thin,
But they’re humans
Incomplete souls still
Looking for meaning,
In their life,
And here,
You are,
Waiting for them
To complete you

Expectations like
Parasites, are
Creeping inside,
Slowly eating
Away all your peace.
Leaving you hollow,
Craving more love.

Hollow soul is what,
They leave you.
You crave more, get less
And thus your
Vicious cycle begins.
Turmoil and storms inside
You breathe,
Havoc and chaos,
You are.
The calamities that
You store,
Draining you of energy.
even the strongest of
Dams break with
Untamed rivers.
Ready with
Massive power to wreck havoc
Upon itself and others.

It’s only in destruction,
That lies creation,
Sometimes better worlds
Following disasters.
Civilisations arise
From forest fires.
Drowning teaches
You how to swim,
Only after falling,
You learn how to cycle,
Only after slipping,
You learn how to balance.
And only after breaking,
You learn how to love yourself.
And in loving yourself,
You learn how to love again.




You were the full moon, 

Bright, glistening,

Shining and reflecting,

Even in the darkest of nights. 

I had thought of you then, 

As a reflection of me,

And my emotions, 

Meant to bring out the better in me,

Guiding me in the dark. 

But, little did I know, ,

You were a parasite,

Feeding of me, destroying me. 

The light ranging on my savage soul, 

That you cast from your thieved light, 

Begins changes in me,

And soon I’m unaware of what I have become,

A man,

Or a monster or a

Hideous combination of the two

What did they call you? Anxiety! 

Hadn’t heard of you before. 

Suddenly you come, 

Not restricted to monthly timetables, 

Feeding on subconscious stresses, 

And discarded thoughts, 

Magnifying them, 

Till my whole body bears the brunt. 

The transformation begins,

Without any set ritual 

My heart begins striking against the chest, 

Attempting to break free from confines, 

I feel, the rhythm with which I beat

And the rhythm which does beat me, 

I am palpitating, till

Palpitations become normal, 

And soon I’m living

Between palpitations, 

A missed heart beat is closer to life, not to death! 


My throat aches, 

Mouth turns dry, 

I gasp for breath, 

Which gleefully does ditch me, 

And soon I’m 

Claustrophobic in the open, . 


Trying frantically to get out, 

My soul from my body 

My mind from my brain, 

My feelings from my heart.

I’m unable to eat, 

The problems are not enough to digest, 

I try to vomit them out, 

But they are still nauseating,

Clouding my mind, 

My mind has become a canvas

For painting the worst of scenarios, 

Where timid decisions turn into catastrophic consequences, 

And there’s only hell, no heaven. 

There’s fatigue without exertion,

There’s fever without infection, 

There’s tremor without explanation, 

There’s sweating without elucidation. 

And that’s what I have become, 

A werewolf howling at the white moon, 

My creator.

Transforming every now and then,

At the whims of the white moon.

But, this mind belongs to me,

These thoughts are my creation, 

There is power in belief,

And magic in faith,

Sooner than you know,

I’ll transform myself

Into whatever I wish,

And be whoever I want, honey 

I’ll be my own Animagus!

Medicine in Bonds 

‘Paracetamol. Refer. Repeat’ 
I’m not against giving back to the community and serving the society but with the current scenario, I couldn’t help but wonder the loopholes that are fraught with the bond service and if it’s not looked into, it would be a waste of time and money for us, for the government and for the people. Obligation of duties can never be a solution. 
Dear ‘To Whomsoever it maybe concerned’ 
1. You have not trained us during our final year and internship to handle emergencies. We know the names of the drugs, the side effects, the actions, we might even have mugged the dosage, the route, any special precautions to be taken, but ultimately medicine is as much art it is as science. If we haven’t been taught how to tackle medical emergencies, how do you expect us to be any good in a rural area, just after internship? Apart from treating ‘uncomplicated fever’ and referring, we won’t be of any help. 
Why don’t you try to train us better? The medical education system that you have created us have made us rote textbook learners who know to ask history in a prescribed format, that too according to the prescribed books, history format which is going around since years and ultimately not used by any of the clinicians I have met. Killing creativity and not letting questions be asked has made us stereotyped vessels functioning in a particular way. Wouldn’t it be prudent to enhance creativity and research, and to teach us the practical dilemmas that we have while treating patients; patients that an average MBBS doctor should be able to manage. 
2. Have you ever been to a PHC and seen the infrastructure there? With the limited amount of drugs, diagnostic facilities and expertise available in such areas, we wouldn’t be able to do anything substantial. It would be a waste of time for us because we won’t do anything but refer. What advantage does it do? Neither are the people benefiting nor us neither is the load on tertiary health care centres reducing. 
3. Why haven’t you asked the Government to increase the GDP spent on healthcare before making us scapegoats? The GDP is less than countries like Uganda and Ghana, why don’t you do something about it and ask the Government to increase the budget on health. The government can spend money on statues and coastal roads but can’t provide better healthcare but are there in any accident causing mass casualties to pay fake condolences. 
4. If you wish for people to provide in the rural areas, I’m sure many of them would be willing. But you don’t provide the right incentives for people to serve in the rural areas. If they are provided, then many will opt for serving the rural areas. There are many states which are functioning well and providing for their people without a bond, why don’t you take lessons from them? 
5. Even if the bond is applied, are there so many positions there so that you can accommodate all the two thousand odd students that pass out every year, whom you will be sending off to serve their bond. Do you have the money to pay their salaries? Or are you going to ask us to do that for free too. Is it even logistically possible? 
5. If an incident happens during the rural posting, and an MBBS doctor isn’t in a position to handle it, and God forbid if something goes wrong, marring his career, canceling his license or damaging his emotional compass, have you thought about what would you do? Have you thought about all the situations that would arise after your decision, that you consider the Gospel truth?
6. You are well aware of how doctors are becoming easy targets of the frustration of the relatives. Most of these patients do not take care of their health and come at a stage where the doctor cannot do anything. Now, let’s see a PHC, one doctor, dearth of security and multiple relatives. Have you thought of the danger you might be putting the doctors into? Have you thought of enhancing the security? Doctors are beaten up in Mumbai in spite of great security, can you ensure that we won’t be victims of crimes that we didn’t commit?
7. Why are we the only ones to serve a bond? Don’t these people need better infrastructure, better sanitation and health. Why aren’t engineers and architects asked to build better facilities over here. Aren’t they also learning on government money? But it’s fine for them to learn and settle in foreign lands. But if a doctor decides to do the same, you question our morality. Don’t you know that if you upgrade the facilities, provide better sanitation, diseases would decrease of their own accord. Don’t you have any idea of preventive medicine, the third year subject that we were told to learn but never taught. Also, don’t the people residing in the peripheries need dentists and physiotherapists? Oh, maybe they don’t develop problems requiring their presence but the burden of health has to fall upon just born doctors. 
8. Your aim should be to prevent brain drain, and better the system so doctors are morally moved to provide for their people. But this would do nothing but promote brain drain. 
9. You want to create softwares to track us, to tie the bell like a noose, why not implement the software for the million patients that seek health, digitalising it would be a great step to better health. But you wouldn’t use it for the right purpo

And let’s face it, it already takes nearly ten years, sometimes more, not to add the repeat attempts required to crack exams;for a person to become a competent doctor, and the process is frustrating, I can already feel it. Imposing bonds after Ug, Pg and Superspeciality would do nothing but increase the time required to become a doctor. It would be a hindrance for people to take up medicine. 

We will serve the society, that is why we ended up with medicine, but we have our own life too. We aren’t gods, we’re humans too. 

Yours ungratefully, 

A bonded medical student
I don’t know if this post is going to make a difference, but I’ll believe at least I have tried. I believe in the power of social media and maybe it might reach the correct people. It’s an overestimation, but better than doing nothing. 

I request you all to share this, not only for yourself but the whole medical community that you represent when you’re out in the world. We have been at the receiving end of the whims and fancies of the authorities that continuously make new rules to make us prove our credibility and morality, whether it’s NEXT or the bond. 

We had shown considerable unity when one of us was beaten, we need it again because  this is on all of us to at least let know the authorities how we feel about their random breakfast decisions. We have been projected as villains for no fault of us, in media and otherwise and everyone should know of the full story, including our part, because half truths are full lies.


Pink was not only
the dress she wore, 
The lipstick she adored
Or her favorite handbag. 

Pink was the colour of her lips 
When she landed her first kiss, 
After the romantic night, 
With her first lover.

Pink was her cheek
When she graduated as the valedictorian. 
It mirrored the 
Pink smiles on her parents face. 

Pink was the dress, 
She wore on her honeymoon, 
Lazing under the sun, 
On the private beach.

Pink was her hand
When her newborn held her, 
Gluing them
In lifelong pink. 

Pink was the shirt 
Her husband wore, on
The tenth anniversary 
Of their love. 

Pink was the cake, 
She baked for her
second daughter, 
On her twelfth birthday. 

Pink was the ribbon 
She pinned on her dress, 
When she was diagnosed 
With breast cancer. 

Pink was she, 
Without her breasts, 
With scars and sutures 
Over her heart of pink. 


How much do you want to know people?

I’m waiting to know the stories between the wrinkles that you have on your right eyebrow.

I’m wondering continuously how did you manage to get a scar on the left part of your forehead?

I’m imagining in my mind whom do you resemble more, your mother or your father.

I’m thinking of how does your lover look even after all that description you gave me.

That’s it, I’m just desperate to know you all over.

You curb my curiosity and I seek more. 

I don’t know what’s up with me? The curiosity, the inquisitiveness, it’s a childhood thing.

Maybe I would have become a great detective, but maybe not, because I’m still unable to discover you.

I’m still waiting to share our souls under the silvery moon,

To talk about the endless possibilities of how our life could have turned out,

I’m still wishing you could have worn your heart on your sleeve, 

That way I wouldn’t have to conjecture hidden meanings and unravel unintended intentions. 

I’m wondering what keeps you up at night and the dreams you have, 

To know if you deserve a dream catcher. 

I’m obsessing over the saddened grimace. 

Did you have a bad day? What were you thinking? 

That’s it, I’m again getting desperate. 

I’m unable to draw lines between prying, compassion and claustrophobia. 

I might have crossed them many a times. 

I’m ready to forsake barriers of visibility, 

To show you the complete picture. 

But, I need to know you’ll do the same,

I’m still seeking your heart, 

To be the caretaker of your treasured trust, 

To be a shareholder of the memories you house, 

To live the experiences of your life, 

To read you as my favorite book. 

The vows of my trust have constantly been broken, 

And have left me caged with distrust. 

You’ve given me hope to open up, and

I’m wondering if I’m your hope! 

Fat legs, Slim stilettos! 

Dress up, dress up,

Party happening in town.
Hair wash, hair wash
Condition, blowdry.
Facial, facial,
Scrub away the dirt.
Foundation, foundation
Splash the compact.
Mascara, mascara
Makeup and bling.

Look at your cheeks,
Puffed up and chubby,
Perfect cheekbones adorned with fat,
Thinking you look cute, still knowingly
Unknown to the phrases
Of ‘walking pumpkin’ and ‘buffalo face’,
And they unknown,
About your hypothyroidism,
Would that make them judge you less?

Mirror, Mirror
Double chin on face,
Makeup, makeup
Get the perfect selfie angle.
Black, black
Makes you look thin,
Fit, fit,
Makes you look slim.
Leggings, leggings,
Shorts and skirts, too much cellulite.

Short height, high BMI,
People call you letter O
Your bff, tall, low BMI
What size? Size zero
You walk in together,
Until you hear the mean guy say,
Your friendship is like sticks and stones,
Perfectly ten on ten, dripping
LiWith the savory snigger on his face.
Unknown to your overeating linked to your depression.

Accessories, accessories
Distract the fat,
Handbag, handbag,
Be praise worthy,
Brush, brush
Set your hair
Click, click,
Capture moments.
Stilettos, stilettos,
Flash your shoes.

Seen the walking ball of fat?
Dysmorphic and grumpy,
Shops at the XL store,
A waist of the world.
Airily, you ignore the comments.
They’re ignorant too of
The multiple diets you did,
And of unfaithful gym subscriptions.

Party, Party,
Dance away the night.
Shots, shots,
Buzz and high,
Names, names,
Focus on the high.
Fat, fat,
Ignore the screams,
Bully, bully,
Fight back
Harass, harass,
Walk away and cry.
Pizza, pizza
Overeat and binge,
Pop pill, pop pill,
Cry. Sleep. Repeat. 

One Sided Friendships 

Introvert, introspective mind, 

Dearth of attention, did all he find, 

Craved love that was battered at home, 

To share stories on phone. 

Introvert sitting at the class corner. 

Hearts colder, face warmer, 

Viewing situations from every angle, 

Waiting to conjoin life’s triangle.

Days fly, months pass, 

Teased around, reduced to a farce. 

Kids come, kids go, 

Introvert at the corner, high on being low. 

New child enters school, 

Huffed breaths, rapid beats, inconsistent drools, 

Armour for the distress, 

Or someone else to make him feel stress? 

Armour it is, for lifetime it seems, 

Shared over notes and beyblade screams, 

Stories were shared on phone, but 

Armour changed school, was gone. 

Introvert child sitting in the corner, 

Summer gone, winter nearer. 

People came, friends became,

Went to a new school to stake claim. 

Loved each, refreshed and renew, 

Hoping to receive similar sinew. 

Always disappointed with the response, 

Stay strong, stay strong! 

Fast forward, the loop continued, 

High school, college, same gloom loomed. 

Risen expectations and butchered hearts, 

Vacant soul and a thousand darts. 

Present state, similar situation,

Little expectations, feelings diminution, 

Heart pricks, thickened walls, 

Apathy looms, soft falls. 

Introvert child is ambivert adult, 

Smile, confidence is his cult. 

Found his sinew and mirth, 

In few people, totally worth. 

Worthy of tears, worthy of smiles, 

Still distressed of inches not turned to miles, 

Suffered from unequal friendships, 

But guilty of one sided friendships?