Unfortunately, dear Reader, human history has witnessed many gross injustices done to females through the ages. In the olden days in the Arab world when girls were born, they would be silenced soon after their first cry, till the Prophet Muhammad peace be upon him put an end to this menace. On the Indian subcontinent, until Raja Ram Monohar Roy and others put an end to it, the unfortunate custom known as “Sati” which demanded that women cast themselves onto their husband’s funeral pyre, persisted for centuries. Nowadays so-called civilized and advanced man has gone still farther, and has been choking female fetuses while still in the womb, “the female feticide”. It must have affected millions of girl babies so far, and has naturally created serious gender imbalances in many parts of the world. The contribution of women to the world has been and is still enormous, and is wonderfully summed by William Ross Wallace in his poem ‘What Rules the World’, when he said that the hand that rocks the cradle is the hand that rules the world. It illustrates the influence a mother has on her child and, in the long run, on society itself. From it we understand that by yielding to her natural maternal instinct to nurture and teach her child, a woman explicitly makes the world a much better place. This puts a great responsibility on the medical fraternity to stop female feticide, which is nothing short of murder. An antipathy against female children in any society would soon disappear when women are enabled to become strong citizens on a par with men. This is possible only by means of education for girls, in every sense of the word. They should be taught self-defense as well, so that devil’s evil eye remains at bay. A step further towards this goal will be made when society simplifies its customs and offers equal opportunities to all. Only then will this unfortunate male imposed gender inferiority of women disappear from our planet. Destruction of this wonderful creation of Almighty would then become a thing of the past.
Coming back to our maternity posting, the days continued to melt and the same group of students lived together for virtually the entire month. We would often study together, and of course we would also often discuss the process of labor. It was a perfect example of that wonderful model now called “team based learning” in modern medical education. We would eat together, crack many jokes and in general also had lot of fun. All of us enjoyed the posting and the month flew by.
Although each one’s experience of it was a little different, we left that hospital having learnt many things. A posting like this shows how much trust patients, better call them saints, bestow on a budding doctor. I remember this period with great affection, and to this day we all honor this great hospital and its great name. It has served many patients tirelessly for many decades now.
Friends, while the maternity posting offers a wonderful opportunity for a budding doctor to hone his medical skills, it also makes one stop and think about, and understand, one’s love for your mother. A mother sacrifices herself for her children right from conception and through the 9 months of gestation, and then finally she faces the terrible pain of labor. Witnessing this should remind us how much we owe to our mothers. It should make us stop to think also of womanhood in general, and in particular the unfortunate social structures which still exist today. After this posting we joined our classes again and after few months we went for a picnic to Pahalgham. During our medical school days, we would often go for picnics to Gulmarg and Phalgham.
One summer I had a chance to go trekking with Dr Shariq, Dr Mehraj and Dr Rafiq. They had already completed their training, and were then working in their various house jobs.
Early one morning on a lovely sunny day in August, we boarded a bus from Srinagar to Shopian in order to trek to Kausar Nag10. By noon we had reached Ahrabal, which was also our bus’ terminus. Beyond this there was no public transport, and the whole area is ideal for trekking. Ahrabal is famous for a very big waterfall. After lunch in a restaurant, we started our trek in the surrounding thick forest, carrying heavy rucksacks on our backs. The site itself is breathtakingly beautiful, and despite our growing fatigue, we admired every aspect of it.
That evening, hardly able to move, we camped near the banks of the Kausar Nag lake. Dusk had fallen and the night was upon us, and the moon was waxing as we started preparing our outdoor dinner on a kerosene stove. The sky was a huge dome above our heads. The breeze made lighting the stove somewhat problematic, making the flame flicker and waver, but finally we surrounded it and in this way stabilized its flame so that our dinner could be cooked. The stars twinkled brightly, and the reflection of the moonlight on the still waters of the lake made it seem as if the moon was looking at its radiant face in that huge mirror. There was no sound or trace of any other human beings – it was just us four souls under the vast roof of that beautiful sky. It was mesmerizing to look up in the sky with its vast galaxies of innumerable stars. Who lit these lamps and why? When simple parts of a watch cannot assemble all of a sudden, how can this vast big unimaginable universe do so? Normally one never gets a chance to think much about these things but life in the open air and this trekking started my thoughts off in this direction. We were all very tired after our trip and all the fresh air we had had, so we retired soon after we had eaten, sleeping like logs in those beautiful blue tents. As soon as the sun started coming up, the tents got lighter and lighter, and it was as if nature itself was knocking from all sides, and nudging us to get up, which we then reluctantly did. We washed our faces in the cold water of Kounsarnag, and had our breakfast in the sunshine. What a wonderful huge ball of fire and energy the sun is! Yes, I thought to myself, it is behind all activities on this earth, and for billions of years it has been tirelessly performing its duty. It seems to set only to our earthly eyes, but in reality it never sets, instead it shines unceasingly. While priests of science postulate the mechanisms of the way it produced its heat and light but why it does do this? These questions go round and round, kindling many more questions and random thoughts in an inquisitive mind. But back to our trek! After having a wondering time out in the fresh air for several days, we started our return journey.
We stopped at Koungwatan, where we camped for the night. The clouds were racing and moonlight was hiding behind them periodically, but luckily it didn’t rain during the night. After breakfast the next morning we started our walk and after a few miles, a light drizzle started and the path become rather slippery. The uphill trek had made us all sweat a lot. In fact, it felt as if we were running a marathon, and now, due to the rain, the sweat from our foreheads was running into our eyes, producing lot of discomfort. Luckily we spotted a few huts in the heart of the dense forest and we headed towards them. We knocked gently on the door of one of the huts, and an old man stepped out. He welcomed us warmly and we entered his low hut, made of stones and wood. We introduced ourselves as medicos. “Would you like some tea, and then, would you mind seeing a few of our patients?” he asked politely. “It will be our pleasure”, we replied warmly. He sent his son to spread the news of our arrival in the area. He was carrying a large black half-broken umbrella as it was raining lightly. As the saying goes, “hunger is the best sauce”, and we really enjoyed maize corn bread and Kashmiri tea we were given in their home. Dr. Shariq had brought quite a lot of medicine along, and he examined a group of patients. As a student, I was more of an observer.
A young boy around 4 feet tall entered the room, and Dr. Shariq examined him. “Squeeze your shoulders together” ordered Dr. Shariq. The boy smiled broadly while doing so, his movement surprising me greatly while I watched. “Ibrahim! Just look at this! It’s cledocranial diasostois , or the absence of clavicles (collar bones) from birth. I have to confess that I have never seen such an interesting case later in life! After an hour or so, the rain had stopped and we started footslogging again. We carefully chose some long sticks in the jungle to help prevent us from slipping during the trek. We talked, laughed and cracked jokes on our way. When we finally reached home, we did so with refreshing memories and a feeling of great satisfaction. The cramps in legs did not disappear for a few days, but what a great message and motivation this trekking carried with it! As a medic you can be helpful with very little extra support at any place in the world where humans are living and your books or study materials are present even in jungles. …..to be continued
Excerpt from the Book Bumby Roads authored by Dr. Ibrahim Masoodi.He can be mailed at ibrahimmasoodi@yahoo.co.in
