Cured Person…

Cured Person…

It was a long time ago and many years had passed…. the day was in early spring, a bright sunny day as I  walked into  the medical school grounds, all happy  that my parents dream was coming true. Though myself more mechanically oriented than theoretically, I was going to be a doc.

Years passed and I never looked back..I graduated and was inducted into the government services as assistant surgeon and served at various places across the valley , almost all of them in remote areas. Though there was in me to go abroad but my family ties never allowed me to proceed thus binding me down to my roots,  a part of my life for which I, in my latter  years  am very  grateful. There is this tragedy with the doctors serving in the field, especially those who are sent to the remote areas, that they lose  all the motive and that inner touch which is necessary for perusal of the further studies and I too was dragged  in to the same garnet  till   I met a person . This meeting  latter proved to be a great embargo that would shape  and catapult  the future of my life in a totally different direction. The immediate result was   that I came out of my slumber and found my old books, by now covered in thick layer of dust and full of silver fish and started to go through them like in my undergraduate days. It took me two years more to get selected for postgraduate studies , but by then I was nearing my forth decade of life and already  inflicted with  advanced degenerative disease of the spine.  My post graduate study period  was the most beautiful and happiest period of my study period. It was the period when  militancy era took its roots in our valley and everyday there were riots, firing, blasts and death in addition to  everything that a war torn  state can experience. I was fortunate to have finest of the teachers and best of the colleagues. The atmosphere was a friendly one rather a brotherly one and it engulfed me in its work laden frenzy in no time.  I was the only postgraduate of my unit and hence always at the receiving end from junior most to senior most and this continuous assault from all the sides along with the unlimited number of  patients to take care  of and operate upon ( especially  poly-trauma- a ruthless  truth of those days)  that  my skill as a surgeon got honed to the finest of the levels.

Subsequent  to my qualifying the degree,  I was  selected as a registrar  in the department ,  and in this capacity most of us served for many years till we were labeled as “chronic registrars” by one of the Professors, whose persistent efforts finally  got us  relieved from the department. But one thing that stuck with me was the “helping hand”. Some how I had imbibed the quality and  it was now a part of me.  That professor failed to get this ‘chronic habit” relieved from my soul! It  may be worthwhile to remark it here that many times I have been in trouble because of this “help all” attitude.

It was during these years that I met many young  medicos  who latter on were to join the department as registrars  or even consultants. As I have  already remarked the  atmosphere was  friendly and I myself learnt to be helpful to all even outside of our department. I tried my best to join the department as a consultant but it  was prewritten somewhere in  the pages  of my destiny to be otherwise and  I  had to join back my parent department of health.  During these years  my two children had come of age but none of them joined the  field  of medicine  that their father belonged to and often  the thought would tug at my  heart as if to pluck a painful chord and then it would be gone. I could have been the best of their guides and  best of the teachers  but this  pleasure was not for me  to relish.  This feverish thought  that  none of my children  followed me in my profession was a sort of  persistent  weight as if an inadequacy on my part of being  a parent.

Many years passed and one day  my wife had to undergo  a battery of tests including CT Scan of the chest.  None of  people who worked there looked familiar and I waited for my turn in the corridor outside, while my ailing wife was seated on the bench, among  other patients. The same  thought  came to me again that  if Sam could have  joined my profession, may be it would have been different. I was jolted   out of my thoughts by someone suddenly calling me ‘sir’ and I looked up to see a  young handsome spec adorned face , in white coat calling me sir again. The face seemed  familiar and then it came to me that he was  one of the young residents with us in my yester years. He took me inside ,offered a chair and tea. I looked at the young face and was pleased to see him there. He started to recite that I had been his teacher and he would always remembers  me, the things I had taught  and the kindness I had shown to all, in spite of being strict with the work . The he called someone on cell phone and another young man came in. Lo this too was my student so there were now two  here and surely many more will be in the hospital. I asked him the same question and yes  my guess was right. So after all I was not alone..Suddenly  I was taken back in time  many  years when I had watched a movie with my father, a movie by the name of “Mr. Chipps”. These  were of the same age as my Sam and surely like him. Rather they were  him, It did not matter whether he was my son or not but it was him,, I had so many of  him, so what difference did it make to me where they had come from.? Wasn’t it enough that they were there and were taking  good care of me like him, rather better that he would have ! “So Dr. Bashir” , I said to my self, ”Allah has opened your eyes  and soul today and all these are just like your Sam. If Sam couldn’t be a doctor , you have so many instead. Thank  your almighty Lord.”

 

That day when I walked out of the hospital I was a cured person! And  my wife she is fine.

 

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5 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. ayesha7
    May 05, 2012 @ 09:39:33

    Dr. Bashir , that is the most beautiful story and you are a beautiful person. Allah bless you and your family all the days of your life. May Allah open all of our eyes and souls so that his slaves can serve him better inshaAllah and ameen

    Reply

  2. ayesha7
    May 05, 2012 @ 09:42:41

    Dr. Bashir thank you for posting this beautiful life experience. I have the greatest respect for you. Allah bless you and your family all the days of your lives. May Allah open all of our eyes and souls so that we his servants may serve Him better InshaAllah and Ameen

    Reply

  3. girija dhar
    May 05, 2012 @ 15:33:10

    Straight n truthful what ws the need now?

    Reply

  4. Ba Khan
    May 06, 2012 @ 03:33:42

    Did i say that now?

    Reply

  5. Sh Ahmad
    May 06, 2012 @ 05:55:05

    Lesson for others and it depicts the fact that you are really great and Allah bless you dear BAK.

    Reply

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