Longings of a heart

‘Aim at heaven, you have earth thrown in. Aim at the earth you get neither.’- C.S.Lewis. The wheels of the new Honda Activa raced along the serpentine road between Visakhapatnam and Bheemili. The rider cruised past the sharp turns and steep curves deftly. Suddenly there was a mishap. The scooter slid out of control hitting the pavement grievously injuring the driver.A few moments later, a crowd gathered around her. I was on the same road on my way to a retreat. I stopped more out of anxiety than concern to see what had happened. The person who sustained the injuries was my junior in college. I was no stranger to her like the rest of the crowd. Someone had called an ambulance and soon she was taken to the hospital. The point there, was that  I was a doctor and had just received registration from my state’s medical board. As my junior waited for the critical care personnel to arrive at the scene, I did nothing to even arrest the profuse bleeding that concealed her face. I was i

The south west monsoon had made its advent exactly on schedule, probably for the first time in my living memory. Each year they would reluctantly make mild advances and cool the summer heat only by July. This time they were not only corporeally punctual but also looked vituperative with boisterous winds and rash showers. The village of Repalle encountered this monsoon with a sense of surprise. The wedding home of ours was nearing perfection on the big day. Plastering, whitewashing the walls marked with greenish moss, the making of thatched Pandiri made of Palm leaves- a quintessential element of Telugu wedding, glowing lights illuminating the dark made our ancestral dwelling, a marriage home. Banners were put up; carpets were laid, sound systems arranged, and a buzz of the activity by relatives all around. All this set the tone of matrimonial frenzy in our family especially me. After all it was my wedding. I could not sleep the night before the wedding. My Bride was waiting in

All phenomena on the planet have their set of side effects- the unwanted collateral damages they beget. Marriage is not immune to such predicaments. I am now writing this from a laced wooden cot- those sleeping equipment that make appearance in any ordinary south Indian home. I am thoroughly exhausted. The string of Nalugus has taken their toll on me. For five days and for fifteen meals to be exact, I have been eating only Chicken. I went to my aunt’s place. I got Chicken stew with fried rice. I went to my uncle’s place. I was fed Chicken fry and Coconut rice. I went to my sister’s place. I was given Chicken and white rice. So this made me, an ardent devotee of Chicken averse to its very smell. So yesterday, my bowels revolted against this gastronomic non sense. I puked. Then I had loose stools. From then, I had to decide between social obligations and medical compulsions. I had to choose between Chicken and abstinence. Normally that would have been an easy choice. But for a Telugu