Covid diaries

 

The Advent.

First time I heard news of covid quivering was while I was at Sundarbanns, January 2020, breathing easy with my family. Rudimentary take was, be at ease. Odds of being like sars h1n1. The concern had raised later, with the proceedings at Italy. The unsettling speculation was how a developing over populated country would cope with a disease that was afflicting the European nations. Still I waited for steps being taken by frontrunners of my hospital. And it did cause concern with the first gathering that was addressed by Shantanu sir and Michael sir. But for the common man, the attitude did not show much of concern. The advent did pose entirely a different response. Its just like if you cast an obscure threat to a group of people, the responses of each one will be different, and chances of a reasonable answer will be nominal. Yet the preparation that was set up by the government was fairly good, even if not rational. It was 13^th April, 2020, the fateful night, when the news of the first covid case had brought the city down on its knees for a prayer. And the case happened to be a benevolent beloved figure in medical fraternity. There was definitely no soul in my discretion who wasn’t daunted by that news that night. The unknown entity had driven in fear, the fear gave birth to arbitrary retort, that channeled into stigmatization and intolerance, further leading to anger. 15^th April, 2020, I was woken up early morning to the dreading news of demise of Sir. As I kept up with the tribulations across his hospital, his uncouth sepulture. All just had come in to add woes. 26^th April, was the evening when I had got first call for covid duty, and the patient was another valiant soul from medical fraternity itself. As he himself battled the unknown, had seen Sir withering infront of his eyes, everything seemed pretty uncertain. But he stood up to tell his tale and serve the society during the tenacious calamity.

Sweet November.

Since the advent of the strained circumstances, my journey towards fatherhood had also set in. Times had been like I stayed away from family for weeks, as my wife started relishing the quickenings. As I battled the hours in PPE, with blurred specs, causing headache, shoes soaking in sweat, nose constantly itching, the regular pang behind the ears because of mask, and the uncertainty of the patients’ fate. One stirring evening was when I stood at my window, enkindled my leaf, as through the fog I beamed the man in red jacket strolling alone helplessly in hospital parking, pondering over the next step to do, as his wife’s death body I had just packed up. I called up my wife and narrated the sad incident. Times rolled on like that, until November came, the due date month for my wife. As I was stuck with fever and cough, as I sat in quarantine, I messaged my wife “I think I finally got it”. The following day I tested positive, I just told myself “why you came so late”. That night it rained as I hummed the lines : nothing lasts forever, even no November rain. I did recover soon and could attend the first cry of my child in the aisles of O.T. That made the journey to a sweet November.

The Cataclysm.

The first wave did waver down gently, leaving some bittersweet memories down the lane. As the country opened lockdown, disaster lay ahead with origin of the delta variant. By March, as India was getting absorbed into the peak of covid, we waited for the wave to come to us. I remember talking to my friend in Delhi in March, as I told him “we are still waiting for a case, what about you”. He replied “pray that you don’t get what we are facing.” We thought we were prepared for it. We were wrong. We were caught on wrong foot when admitted cases went from 7 at the start of my duty in April, to 21 in one week, to 40 in two weeks, to 96 in next two weeks. One day while on duty I had five intubated patients and I mulled over on thin ice as to recovery odds of my ventilated patients and averting ventilation for the ones on HFNC. Spending 16 hours in PPE, with less than six hours sleep per day, as I saw my grueling colleague speak out “I can’t do it anymore”, I really wondered the plight of Delhi, as I saw the picture of burning pyres, graveyard full of ashes. By July, cases showed some downward trend. While on non covid duty, as I walked past the door of covid ward, a single glimpse of the inside evoked memoirs of tinging smell of sweat, blurred vision, the confusion about next step for the deteriorating patient, and yes the weariness. After reaching home, as I lay flat on my bed at night, I wondered what a respite would it be with no phone ring rattling you. That was cataclysm.

The Habit.

“Its okay to be positive” a healthcare worker saying it casually at the door of ER. That’s the habit. I remember when I had failed in Anatomy in first year MBBS, it was the most inconceivable thing for a school topper to experience. My Anatomy H.O.D, saw my doomed face, and uttered “Wonder what makes human beings the most assertive creature on earth! You throw a man in the worst possible ruins and he will ascertain how to carve a remarkable life out of it in some years.” As I see around today and think of April 2020, I understand how humanity can live it up against all adversities.

“Mankind was born on Earth, it was never meant to die here” Cooper to Murph, Interstellar.

Sweet November

 26th November, I stood at the aisle of Nazareth O.T. Talking to Bibhuti sir, with my senses straying on what was going on inside the O.T number 3. I could see Bluecy on O.T table, while Livingstone talking to her. Anil ran in hastily, bit late, as expected from him, did not waste any time, rushed inside O.T. And The First Cry.

For a moment I was lost. It was the beginning of a new phase for my life. The Fatherhood. Quite a moving juncture. Someone in the line, someone from me, was born. Someone undeniably a part of me was born. Someone I could always cherish and celebrate, for every actions she would ever take.

I stood there, just smiling and nodding my head, watching Anil busy with baby. Brilly and others came out with the news "Its a girl." I said "Thank You". Bibhuti and others congratulated me. Dennis was the first one to call up on mobile. 

A cold November ending at Shillong. The nurses carried baby to baby room as I followed her. There sister Dari greeted me in. She was kept in baby warmer. After sometime the sister asked me "you want to carry her." I said "sure". I asked sister for one click of me and my baby. 

That was how the much contemplated month of November was ending for Bluecy and me.

November did not start up well for me. A reflection at November ending would echo how it all started from month of March. 

It was on 13th April, when Bluecy and I had headed to Steve at Bethany USG room. Steve showed us the intra uterine beating heart. That was the onset of pleasure for both of us. It was the same evening, reporting of the first Covid case at Meghalaya. Till date I would always ponder on the 13th of April, if I could visit Sailo sir at his room. A blended reaction, donned in both the jitters of guarding of own family and altruistic respect for Sir. Altogether it was a journey that had started at same time as Covid. 

Sitting at home, following the ordered quarantine, the evening of 24th April, with the news of Rymbai sir being brought to Nazareth, and me being called up to join Diam for the first Covid duty at Nazareth. Leaving Bluecy at home with her pregnancy, for covid duties, was also a worry. So were the risks of returning home after the regular non covid duties. During Bluecy's follow up check up, I was on the top floor of Nazareth, waving at Dora and her, as I gazed at her pregnancy bulge growing. Dora and Bluecy had paid me a visit while I was quarantined at MATI. I glanced them, a far glimpse from the top floor of the executive room of MATI, against the green dark shades of late evening. It was Dora who had spotted me early from the car and waved at me. After Rymbai sir discharge in safe healthy state for home, I made my way to home. Cyclone Amphan had made landfall that evening at Kolkata. 

The next Covid duty call was in July. The patient was an old aged female, really in a bad state. That was the starting of the unending Covid duties, round wise. Since then we kept on receiving patients. The second round of Covid shift, did not cause much jitters. It was more concerning than the first round with Dr Rymbai certainly. Some good memories of the second round were the early morning 7 am call for a patient in respiratory distress. Diam called "arnab lets run". That was a suspect patient, my first intubation in Covid ward, it had turned negative though. The patient also had made it, later. Second reminiscence was an alcoholic young male crashing at mid night in suspect ward. Diam called up "arnab come running". Abhijeet was there with his fancy post apocalyptic mask. We had managed to resuscitate him for night, only for Diam to declare the patient early morning. Third remarkable moment was Himjyoti sir feeling ecstatic as our patient was improving, she made her way out of the high flow nasal Airvo. We did not lose any covid patient in that round too. The ill was lying in wait.

Debu sir had pulled Diam and me out to replace us with Neel and Ashutosh. The scourge had turned up in their time. With two grim and third reaping, lingering for my turn. My third round, I had done with Ashutosh and Neel. My first Covid intubation was then. My each episode at Covid ward was always a learning session. An obese panicking patient, bleeding from nosetrils, partly due to the dry high flow oxygen from Airvo. I was left in dilemma between a desaturation state and a nose bleed state. The high flow nasal cannula would not supplement a botroclot packed nose and a high flow NRBM was not helping the hypoxia status. Other reminiscence from my second innings include my hot debates with patient attendants. Worst was a patient attendant telling me "you had said its little corona, not more corona." I didn't know what to do with that patient party. That session ended well with some of the worst patients recovering. We had sadly lost some. I had finished my that session after Kunal. I had good learning working with Neel, Ashutosh and Kunal.

The Covid ward had the critical area on its right and stable section to the left. Spending time with stable patients would seriously feel like selling vegetables in market. Then came the attendants of the patients. Dealing with them would remind me of the line from my School teacher "har pal kuch naya".  

The third innings came after Diam had left. I guess that was the worst entrance I had started up with. The first morning shift, was with Rosie alone managing six critical cases, one intubated, one on NIV, two on Airvo, two on NRBM. There were other 14 stable cases on other side waiting to eat my head with their non covid, luxury demands. A total twenty patients to look into with an astronaut suit on. I had just started my venture into the critical case files, that Rosie shouted "Dr Arnab". One heavy patient was on floor. Till date I don't know what was he trying to do. Rosie and myself picked him up on bed somehow, stabilized him, that after ten minutes another 'Dr Arnab' scream from Rosie, this time from the adjacent room. As I reached there I saw the patient on NIV, unresponsive, bradycardia, desaturating. A ward girl came to help me and Rosie with her little knowledge about the crash cart trolley articles. Any little act of kindness is always respected. We did intubate and save that patient too. In my that innings, I did lose some patients too. Managing to save the most. Some remarkable reminiscence were the stench of sweat soaked scrubs, the throbbing pang around the ears caused by mask string. The unending hassle and headache caused by fogging of glasses. The dripping sweat drops. The ache in the legs from prolonged standing. The soreness over nasal bridge. The bids to remember the new noted points about the patients. Sometimes the essentials would be missing. Sometimes the nurse would be caught up with something else. 

It was this session that I had heard my colleague telling me "don't enter that room, the patient is on high flow, aerosols are there to infect you", and "Don't spend much time nearby the patients, your duty is to write orders, let the nurses manage the rest", and "why are you doing so long duties, what if you get infected."

For any one instance, there shall always be a hundred different opinions from hundred different people. You can never do anything about that. I still remember the incident of me being tested false positive from Neigrihms, and my finishing the 14 days quarantine, inspite of being tested negative twice in follow up, a senior colleague calling me and persuading me to stay away from hospital for atleast one month. Maybe Robert Anton Wilson was correct in saying that we live an age of artificial scarcity, maintained by ignorance and fear.

Certainly the duties were high strung. It was never easy to wear the PPE for seven hours in one go, and think, about twenty plus patients. At times, after doffing, in my room, while shower I would wonder, what if I am tired enough to let the virus infect me. There was a time when I glanced from my window, at the husband of the wife who had just passed away under my hands. I watched him, strolling at parking area in red jacket late evening, while I smoked my cigar rete, I messaged my wife "see his plight, I feel so sorry for him, he was so hopeful of me and I failed him." 

Times can be very grueling. Although I don't have much of faith, yet I wonder what if one acts likes Lord Shiva, consuming the venom from samudra manthan, to save the world. He had survived the incidence with follow up title of Neel Kanth. A possible analogy can be the ones for the Post Covid health care workers. 

Then came the month of November for me. It was 31st October, I remember well that was my last night on covid duty from my fourth session, that I had the feverish feeling, I had a qualm that I might have got it. IPL was on. I told myself, let me go to hotel and watch my KKR play. Funny me. 

My hotel stay was an uneasy one. I told my wife "I think I finally got it, after escaping it three times." The bodyache and tiredness would douse my in slumber while I would sit to finish the night IPL matches. I read the 'Impending Doom' status of Anirban sir, same time, later got news he had suffered same fate as me while at Covid ward at AIIMS Delhi. The day times I would sit in sun, speculating the role of Vitamin D. Again. Funny me.

I would ponder at what my senior had told me "why are you doing this, what if you get infected". I would enshrine at the old man, whose pancreatitis I had missed out, focusing on his other comorbidities. He was a jolly old man, not complaining about anything. The complaints part had gone missed out from my examination, only when his abdomen distension and clinical deterioration had shown up, it was already late. Something Dr Rymbai used to tell while in Bethany "don't have a tunnel vision" "your ability to anticipate makes you a better clinician than others." The intubation and other incentives were of no use. It always had hurt losing a patient. Always. There is nothing as certain as death inevitably.

November had started with me updating Nothing last forever, nothing even cold November rain, from my fav Gn'R. It did rain at November starting. My wife had unending woe when I told her about my symptoms. Her due date was November end. I would keep telling her not to worry. IPL did not go well for KKR. Even Eoin Morgan could not take the team anywhere after the qualifying drama. On fifth day I went for testing. I did my own RAT, which gave double line. I called up Diam for a corona care center. Debu sir called up asking to stay at hospital. And I was a covid being transported in 108 to hospital. A very stable covid surely. Walking around in Covid ward without PPE was certainly a prejudice. A ceding moment for me. I remember Dr Debu laughing at me "Doctor without PPE." It was unimaginable to be able to walk in covid ward without PPE. Could be the virus imparted a sickness partly and a dynamism under veil. I felt like untouchable. Surely fear is more contagious than the virus itself.

Losing the CKD patient during my fifth innings was a surmounting anguish. Saving the other two critical cases, specially the late night intubation, was a feather of some condolence. I bade my goodbye to covid ward, while I was still positive status and headed for home, trusting what I had learnt, what I had believed, what I had practiced. Ardent regards to Debu sir and the Covid team for a standout. A testimonial from Rymbai sir "The battle is won with an efficient team leader and diligent foot soldiers. Lose anyone of the two and the battle is lost."

25th November evening, I brought Bluecy and Banri to Nazareth. Waited for the advent of Olivia. 

I did join back Covid in December. But felt like doing covid before fatherhood was better. 

The whole nine months were a battle against a pandemic as Bluecy made her way to deliver Olivia. It was never easy for Bluecy. More than half of the time of her pregnancy I could not be with her. A big gratitude to the family I have been gifted with. People call of covid heroes. Behind the heroes there are always family members forming a support for the person to go ahead for the danger. We are all harmonized with human relations. So its always a collateral damage for any hit taken at any end. In the end the pandemic did cause more of the phobia than the threat in itself. The person on covid ICU bed is also having someone waiting for him or her to return back home, and there has to be someone to help that to happen. I still remember the nurses on Covid duty returning home, to self isolate, and their kids trying to greet their mother, as she trying her best to isolate herself. So many covid diaries to reel off.

In the end that's how my sweet November ended. Happy Ending. Wishing everyone good heath and a successful vaccination drive. 

Mankind was born on Earth, It was never meant to die here : Cooper.

Black

The Black Album. Metallica. Was the band's best sold album.
First time I had heard of Metallica was from cousin brother Shantanu. Back then he had made his way to IIT Powai. I was still struggling to make my way to medical college. He had recommended me to listen to it. Later when I reached college, I lent my ears to Metallica from Stephenson Pohlong. That was the year of 2006. 'A' block at JNBH, MGIMS, sevagram.

The song Nothing Else Matters used to remain in my list of most played songs on my mobile, in the year of 2007, when I had suffered a 6 months back after failing in Anatomy. That was a time when I was made way to Metal songs. I remember India creating rattles in 2007 T20 World Cup. I would feel very ticklish to make way to a crowded TV hall of JNBH to watch any match. Those roars of each sixes hit by Yuvraj Singh, would lurch my heart to join the crowd, but I wouldn't.

I was pulled to TV hall by my batchmates only later. I remember watching Joginder sharma bowling the last delivery, Misbah Ul Haq scooping it to Sreeshant. And the JNBH tv hall went mad.
Same was during 2011, we had missed the Dhoni six cause someone stepped over the plug on floor in a packed tv hall, and the screen went off power.

I guess I switched on to Nothing Else Matters after a long time. Not that "I switched". Better it be "I COULD switch". That shall be a more appropriate line. It needs a proper occasion for a proper song.  

One positive report, although it was a false one, led me to go back to aeon of bummer. For one evening only though, yet I found my way back to the Black Album.

JNBH days were different. Room was full of posters. Had Altec Lansing speakers. Guess I did almost everything at college, except studying. Wish I had studied back then. Maybe had I studied well back then, I would not be here at Shillong now, doing Covid duties. haha.

I have done Covid duty only once till now. When Rymbai sir was brought in Nazareth. I still remember that evening. The first message that flashed on mobile was from Tariang sir stating they are shifting Teibor to Nazareth because of breathlessness. He was the second victim of covid who had turned critical. Otherwise in Meghalaya, then he was the eighth person who had covid. We had heard of only Sailo sir succumbing to the disease, we did not want same fate for him.

I did not sleep that night, packed up my bags early morning, set out for the novel. My ally Dr Diam had taken charge of Rymbai sir for the night. I just wanted to see him as soon as possible. When I entered the Covid HDU and saw him across the glass pane, I really wondered 'Is that him'. His first words were "I am ready to accept whatever comes." After spending the first evening with him in covid HDU, when I joined Diam and the devout, altruistic nurses for dinner, I told Diam "he does not look good." The one line of Diam hit the chord "We can't afford to lose another healthcare worker. this is just the starting. It will go as a very depressing message to the society. Keep everything ready for him."

From then, we did make progress. Under the navigation of Dr Debu, we cruised well and could accompany Rymbai sir for corona care stay after hospital discharge. That was the second quarantine for me. Rymbai sir was never marked as covid case by government citing they never found the virus in his samples. After the repeated Rt PCR were turning negative, we turned to H1N1, that also was turned out via our Flu Panel. In the end the repeated antibodies gave us a shoulder to rest on that we actually had managed a covid case well. Thanks to Civil hospital for doing atleast one good thing, doing the Ct scan for him. Seriously, just with one case I could come up to write a blog. I wonder for our dear mates, managing dozens of comorbid covid cases everyday, spending 8 hours in PPE straight at a temperature of 40 F, that also the Mumbai humidity. No lavish quarantine like us. No sight of when it will end and how it will end. 

I had a nice time with Rymbai sir. I remember the corona care ward boy taking Rymbai sir for climbing two sets of stairs while I was busy in arguing with authorities to arrange for wheel chair. By the time when I reached up, I found him lying on bed, breathless again. Every now and then I would have to explain the dyspnoea grading and reasons for his breathlessness to the authorities there over phone. Rymbai sir scolding another ward boy why he was so shit scared of us. I had dropped my guards when Rymbai sir was ready for discharge. Often he would tell me to maintain safety. I would say I am waiting for second call for covid duty. Even Diam is still waiting for it. Honestly there is always a big difference between a volunteer and a person forced to take care of a covid patient. I really missed Diam after he left for quarantine. Lets see what comes for us in coming months.

One of Rymbai sir patients had literally made his way into Nazareth covid HDU, faking covid symptoms, just to see his great doctor. And he was really happy after he saw Rymbai sir. Same was about a girl who had come for sample collection, she just had come to wish him good health since he used to treat her father. Some people are really very good.

I did not switch to the Black Album even then, because I did not have the woofers. Listening to Metallica on mobile speaker is like eating raw mango. Haha. 

This is the third quarantine for me. Because I had received a report saying I am positive. No contact no symptoms for my family either. A routine test. Fortunately my hospital tested me two times consecutively, same day, reporting negative. Yet I was ordered to stay for another home quarantine. The lab which gave my first report positive was closed for maintenance citing contamination and altered reporting possibilities. Government never clarified the matter. Media created havoc. Sad state of affairs.

Surely my locality was scared of me. Some of my family members too. I used to call ourselves Zombies after covid duties, how the public would react towards us. 

Staying alone, is ardent. While I was at the corona care center, in some way it was very tranquil. Dr Rymbai would often talk of priorities, in each one of our lives. Had it not been what I had chosen after I finished college, I surely would not been here today. Had I not joined Bethany, I would have never met him. He would tell about his post graduation days. I would reflect back on my biking years. Seriously travelling makes you a better person. You meet different people. In the end you realize we are all humans albeit the differences in our beliefs. 

The State is still safe compared to how the matters are in rest of India. But it was never about that. My collegemates, often recite their stories of struggle at Mumbai. It was never about if I could get infected. You can never say that Army guy in war shall not suffer injuries. At same time you cannot tell the army guy to manage a dying patient. Or tell a Doctor to play a pull shot off a Shoaib Akhtar bouncer. A health crisis has too be managed by doctors and nurses. Being infected and toiled is part of the care. Something I told Surajit after he finished his testing "we are all in this together bro." But in the end society has always caused more trouble compared to Covid. 

Most of the times its all about perception. When I had told my parents about my first report, there was a dread silence. When I told the same to my Uncle "Oh. Great. Now you will get the antibodies." When I told my parents about what the media was writing about me, they said why are they doing like this. When I told my uncle same "Now you are going to be the next Amitabh bacchan, they will ask what you did what you ate etc etc." Yes it did remind me of Peepli Live movie how the media and public behave.

Ibn Rushd — 'Ignorance leads to fear, fear leads to hatred, and hatred leads to violence. This is the equation.'

While I was at the corona care center, the Arijit Singh song 'Bandeya' had hit the chord. There is always a song for every occasion. While Rymbai sir lay on his bed in the ER 6 room, he had chosen to watch the movie Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara. A fruitful movie to watch if you make your way out of ICU. 

Well with 'Black', only one song does ring bells to me. Black by Pearl Jam. There was a time I would put this song on repeat. That was in college days, the final year. Yes, there was a Black by Sevendust. That was always in my gym playlist, even to the Iron House gym days. 

But more from the Black Album of Metallica, definitely Nothing Else Matters takes the score. Following it goes the Apocalyptica cello cover of the same. Another file, the William Joseph piano cover. But honestly all tracks from the Black Album were too good. Yes, it does match my current scene. Lets make a horrendous face. Wink please readers. Enter Covid. Sad But True i was negative. Holier than Thou, although in future if infected. You shall remain Unforgiven. Wherever I may roam, don't tread on me. Of course Nothing else matters than a dedicated medical profession. OF the layman and The Man. For the God that failed. My dear Mate of misery, how the society sees you. And the struggle within, both for the patient and the care taker.

Seriously there is nothing much to do when I sit at quarantine. Gyms got closed so many months now. The speed with which I finish movies is more than the speed of downloading. Yes. Books. surely. Badminton was swallowed by rain. Later when the rain went away,  my covid report ate my fate of getting any company. Seriously. Lets make a horrendous face. 

I shall be indebted to Dr Michael for his efforts to guard my faith in myself. Rest. When in Rome, do as the Romans do. Can't help it. Lets make a horrendous face again. 

Where there is charity and wisdom, there is neither fear nor ignorance : Francis of Assisi.

I am sure for Rishi, he still cling to reading blogs. I miss his company. 

An Ode to Sir

I guess the first time I had met him was back in 2016, when I had submitted my resignation at Nazareth, as was anxiously searching for a job at some other hospital, and yes, definitely to find a support for my bodybuilding as well. I remember I had just ventured inside Bethany then, made my way to Director office just following the sign boards. It was so easy, unlike in Nazareth, where u will be obstructed by someone asking u "who r u, whom u want to meet." 

Before entering his office, I read his name, a long name, and then my eyes glanced on 'AIIMS'. He had done his MD from AIIMS. Glancing that it sent a bit of shivers down my spine thinking 'he is a big shot, I don't know what he will do to me.'I remember I had worn my formal blue collared T shirt, and just made my way into his office. He looked at me and said "yes come in." 

With my first gesture for a job vacancy, ogled at me and made the first sentence "do u do gym?" 

I said "yes sir".

"Oh, I hope none of my patients get scared by looking at ur physique." Then he broke into a laughter prompting the guy sitting next to him also to smile at me. Then he told me "you submit ur CV at our admin block, we will get back to u." 

That was my first meeting with him. Then I had joined Neigrihms, carried on my gym, bodybuilding, won Mr. Meghalaya 2017. Neigrihms contract got finished. Again jobless.

In desperation I again had gone to meet him in the month of October 2017, as my last resort if he takes me. And he was not there, he had gone out of station. That had given me a jolt of dejection and had made me jump to the conclusion of packing my bags for Kolkata. 

On reaching Kolkata, my extreme desire to return back to Shillong had prompted me to open bethany portal and apply for a job. And it was a few hours past that I got a call saying "Sir would like to meet you."

I had packed my bag hastily, bade my parents goodbye, geared up my bike, rode back to shillong after few days of the call.

I guess it was somewhere around last week of November, 2017, I went to buy a new pant, citing my big 28 inches bodybuilder thighs then. I remember it was Tuesday , and Pantaloons was closed. I was wondering if they celebrated Hanuman diwas. I headed to Uptown Closet and got an oversized formal trouser, for my formal meeting with Sir.

I went to meet him, second time, in my life. I wore a white shirt and black trouser. I was waiting infront of his office. He walked out from ward with his patient attendants following him, him greeting everyone, with an eternal smile on his face. I walked ahead and stood infront of him. He looked at me and smiled and told me to wait a moment. Later he called me inside his office. I sat infront of him. 

Again the first question from him "Do you do gym?"

"yes sir". He asked again "have we met earlier." I just lied to him and replied no sir.

Then he asked "Do u do anything other than gym cause your body looks quite big."

"Yes sir, I do bodybuilding. I won Mr Meghalaya this Year."

He got so excited . He called up the senior medicine consultant and introduced me to her "we have Mr meghalaya with us now."

This was a sweet reminiscence of Sir. I had worked with him since december 2017 till June 2019. 

He was definitely a very delightful character to work around with in hospital. A very supportive, a father like figure. 

The next month after my appointment in the hospital, he had invited me to join him for an outing at his Nongpoh farmhouse. We were greeted by his extravagant hospitality. 

My next some months tenure, working at his hospital, was very care free. Until I was lifted to the assignment of taking care of hospital quality, with the quality team. It was then that my unfolding of sour rapport had set in. 

But even then whenever I had approached to him for help, he never was reluctant to offer an helping hand. It was always evident that he wanted a happy environment around him, both for patient and the staff. He never wanted to create a strain. 

When I was in my college days, one wise person had once told me a famous line : If you don't have any enemies, means you are doing something wrong.

Somewhat impart that with the famous line from Winston Churchill : you have got enemies. Good, that means you have stood up for something.

By mid of the year 2019, I really wanted to leave Bethany. I had made almost half of the hospital my enemy. Basically because I wanted to create an apple tree from an existing orange tree. Humor.

I had hinted Sir about my leaving, to which he always said no. I still remember my second last meeting with him at his office when he said "I will step down to see that you will not leave. I will support you." After few weeks, I again landed up at his office with my second resignation letter, asking him to let me go. He asked "why do you want to leave us?"

15th April, 2020. As I lay on my bed asleep, a very early morning call on my wife's phone, gave us the dreaded news. I heard it and turned towards the wall and quietly wondered 'what went wrong'. 

I had never imagined that news would come up.

In the month of January, while I was relaxing in Sundarbann with my wife and In laws, I used to read the updates about China facing the deadly coronavirus. We never had thought that we too shall have to wonder about our country updates for the same, each hour, just two months from then. When I returned back to my duties, I remember Jerry asking me in gym "doctor what do you think of this coronavirus?" I used to tell them it will be just another SARS or MERS or H1N1 stuff. Nothing to worry. I guess the same was the attitude at most of the places in our country.

In February, it actually created worry when Covid ravaged through Italy, India reporting its first case in Kerala. There were conjectures coming up for a needed lockdown in future. 

In March, Dr. Shantanu called us for the first class on Covid. And he clearly started with 'none of us have seen a pandemic before, but here we are going to face one. there is something big coming towards us.'

At home, in laws, everyone used to act very care free. At any notion, it was a very common reply "nothing will happen to us, our land is blessed."

There were some moments when it used to come to my mind, should I recount the crisis being foretold, or should I become an object of their jokes if really nothing happens here. 

People would continue to stay absorbed in their daily activities. No social distancing, no precautions.

And at hospital it would always expound as to get ready for the threat. Surely an educational institute of medicine is an entirely different place than a casual society.

Once one remark did come : our hospital is very proactive, maybe the most prepared one at this stage.

My wife was still at Bethany hospital, 9 years of service as staff nurse. Myself, had again rejoined Nazareth since July 2019. I used to daily drop and pick up my wife for duty and home, unless I was busy. There had always been contrast in the groundwork between Nazareth and Bethany, or, Nazareth with any other hospital of the state. Something I would always commend Nazareth for. Yes being a staff of Nazareth, a person like me, would constantly be brought to light to awareness, learning. Its always good to learn. 

The month of March went by seeing the number of cases gradually rising in the country. North east stayed unscathed for quite long. Until the Nizamuddin incident broadcasted. The words 'superspreaders' started coming up in news headlines. Still Meghalaya remained unhurt. 

The isolation duty roster came in. The donning doffing of PPE classes started doing rounds. I seldom would tell my wife "our turn will come. I will go." Yes my wife would hint uneasiness. 

Before I would leave for the isolation duties, I had one wish if my wife conceives. And that good news came in soon. We did USG and Steve gave us a good report. EDD 4th of December.

The night of 13th, after my wife's USG report came in, she came back from duty, and I was packing for my night shift. We had a dispute at home that she should take rest and my wife was unwilling to let go off Bethany so soon. 

Nights at Nazareth ER with seeing lesser patients, with lockdown going on. When I went to doctor's room and got shocked to see the update 'Meghalaya's first covid case a doctor.'

Shillong, a very small place, population 1.43 lakhs, news flies in a snap. In no time, I heard about Sir.

The hospital was sealed. Government officials had sleepless night. The whole city knelt down for prayer.

I was ordered to report for home quarantine. It was dismay to come back home to prepare to stay for next 14 days, not going out. 

That night I asked my wife once "How is sir?" She replied "he is maintaining saturation I heard."

I just told myself 'nothing will happen to him, he will be fine.'

Yesterday while I was surfing for a suitable message to send to Peter, I chanced upon this line;

'The trouble is You think You have Time.' by Gautam Buddha.

We don't understand the value of the case until it happens to us. There are definitely some people who even then also refute to learn. But there are some enlightened souls with us, who believe to keep studying and enlightening people. 

Sir did not go well. His last rituals could not be attended by his family. Then there were pack of fools who created dilemma in his last rituals. I wish this was not how it should have ended.

The following evening of 15th, I had to put up an update : social stigma, ignorance, unscientific beliefs will cause more harm to society in India compared to corona. 

The next day one of my in laws added me in family group, where I tried to bring everyone to notice to refrain from any form of unscientific activities. But I believe people will not change.

Rejecting a patient for dialysis, just because of his travel history. Keeping a myocardial infarct patient, outside in cold, just because he has travel history. Staring at a health profession, closing gate on a person from the family of a health personnel, hinting a person belonging to a creed because of the ongoing idea in the country about one gone wrong congregation. 

Someone truly said : this one tiny virus has played its part in displaying the true colors of human beings. 

Yes danger is real. But not fear. Fear has led to losing the respect of one human towards another. 

I wish I could have been with Bethany team, battling up against something that so suddenly came up on them. A battle was lost, but hope not their spirits. My dear comrades had put up a brave fight, risking everything. In the end that shall always be remembered and will continue to inspire someone willing to do good for humanity. We lost a beautiful soul. I wish we were better prepared. I wish it was not him. But in the end wishing is the last thing a helpless person can do. 

I wish the person reading this understands the need to open your eyes and be never so late that you can't help a wonderful person.

I will end with the last lines of Sir to me "I cannot stop you from going. Its your right to go. But I wish you had stayed with us."

I would tell the same lines to him now.

Just another Saturday night

Bodybuilding is frustrating indeed. The body doesn't grow like Hulk.
The day starts with before dawn meal. Then rest. Then Gym. Then back home. Eat. Bath. Run to Bethany. Come back. Eat. Sleep. Repeat.

Bethany has given a last resort to me to sustain my bodybuilding. I had to contact Balap for taking the track to IBBF. Anything outside Meghalaya is tough. Surely it was the easiest place to win a state level competition in just two years preparation.

I don't know how to do it. Struggling with money. Left old parents back at Kolkata. And here. Phil Heath said its a marathon not a sprint. The measurement of a man is in how many times he gets up after getting lost.

Today we lost a five years old kid in icu. This month they said icu is spiking in mortality record. A scrub typhus case wrongly managed.

How much do you expect out of man to really call him a superman. Bodybuilding I wanted to do. I discover myself in gym. Its like a child's playground for me. And then people came and said "you don't have a good body, what bloody gym you do, you don't look good at all."
Fun is in going and telling them on their faces "look now what I have done." But it doesn't stop there. Surely God gave man a mouth to just bark. There were days when they said a IFBB pro looks better than me. And then the chase started for IFBB. Some people do shut up their mouth. Some are so shameless that they just don't.

Spend hours in gym, grinding the muscles with the heaviest weights the body can tolerate. And smile cause it drives a psycho in you. And then idiots come and eat your head with their idiotic opinions. Surely if it would have been so easy it wouldn't have taken ten years for anyone to rule on Mr Olympia stage. Be it Phil or Jay cutler or Dorian yates. Surely Dorian rightly said "small minds cannot comprehend bigger spirits. Be ready to be hated misunderstood and mocked if you wish to be different.."

And then the struggle with money. At hospital they expect one kind of superman. At gym they expect the other kind. But they just want to see a superman. A 15 gcs patient collapses and passes away just under the nose without a trace. A ckd bipolar guy bleeds and bleeds till the ionotropes are of no help and we kept banging our heads to find the cause of thrombocytopenia. The kid died as we didn't know the paediatric doses. 200 intubations in one year at neigrihms and if you fail to intubate a convulsing child just because you didn't know how to sedate him. That child also bled. You cannot keep embracing failures everytime. A stranger walked into emergency and collapsed of myocardial infarction, complaining to abdomen pain, until the ecg showed st changes and I just stood there helpless. Another stranger brought into icu kept shouting he can't breathe until we intubated him and lost him in five minutes. He was a HIV positive case. He had no one. He was just a truck driver, brought by a fellow truck driver. His parents in some Rajasthan village had no knowledge he was in shillong. A 19 years xdr tb 5 months pregnant girl died right infront vomiting blood like anything and the nurses refused to go near her as she was xdr tb. family abandoned her. That kid was an autistic child, only child of his parents. And then the consultant comes and tells "everything happens for a reason. Find the reason and treat the cause. thats why you are a doctor."

Parents want son to do a pg in good clinical branch and marry another doctor to give birth to more doctors. And practise in Bengal where the common man thinks he/she knows everything. 

When you stand on the stage, people wish to see a Jay Cutler everytime. Not knowing what it took Jay to become like that. Eventually when they come to know how to create a body like that then they say its an expensive hormone game.

You cannot run away from critics everytime. Some assholes will always criticize you.

That day in gym we hummed the tunes of someday by flipsyde "someday we will dance with the lions."

Its tough to be alone. Keep grinding the day alone. Wishing some day we will surely dance with the lions. haha. Working in hospital is surely a means to fulfill the expenditure of the thankless expensive bodybuilding dream. But in hospital you cannot pose blank when some one walks to you as you are their only ray of hope.
If you are practising in Shillong, you are supposed to get the finest touch mankind when a dead patient's relative walks to you, holds your hands and smiles and solemnly says "thank you doctor, you have done your best." Its a far godly approach than the uncivilized people of bengal who break hospital properties when patient dies.

In the end. They expect a superman everywhere. Its not difficult to turn back the pages of mathews or kd tripathi and know how the bipolar patient on phenytoin to control his seizures developed gum hypertrophy, screwed his liver, developed bleeding disorder and bled like anything. Still the cause of thrombocytopenia remained unknown. You just have to open the books. Grind the muscles in gym. Follow the work ethic. The result shows. There is nothing called miracle. Everything happens for a reason. If someone likes you its because you are a superman. If you are not its otherwise. I do miss her. Her daughter is four months now. I feel bad for my parents.

This year was pretty cold in Shillong. Loneliness is creeping into me so as is frustration. The body is not growing upto the mark so as to win. No doubt I am back to blogging.

These two tracks were very nice House MD, civil twilight human and into dust.

Let Me Do Bodybuilding

Scribbling after so long. The mobile phone network facilities are like the government of India, too many promises and propaganda, least help for the common man. Sitting here in heart of Kolkata and my airtel internet is problematic. Shillong was better. I am going back there. Happy resolution.

Waiting for new saddle bags, bike gloves, mask, one new tank bag. And then I will be riding back. This will be a long ride after a long time. Bodybuilding had me occupied for the past two years. But no complaints. I loved bodybuilding. Always wanted to do it. Going ahead for that.

Ok Anirban sir clicked only five snaps of mine on Mr Meghalaya occasion. Well his captures are better than Stevie Sir ones of Ironman Classic. But Stevie sir did his best to capture my all poses.
Speaking of bodybuilding. Today I will initiate with the holy lines "the universe falls in love with stubborn hearts." Take another one "every champion was once a contender who refused to give up." the former line was maybe from Paulo Coelho. The later one is Rocky Balboa I think. I was the champion on the night of 21 october 2017 in Aurobindo Auditorium Shillong. No matter what the people say I will rest with final words 'it was a miracle.' Santosh didn't come up because of his ill health. Sohail targeted some other competition. With these two top competitors not competing I knew it was my night. One huge guy did come up, Andrew named him 'truck'. The guy was more than 40 years old, had experience and qualified for international level competitions. God knows why he came up on Mr Meghalaya stage. It was like some nuclear physicist sitting to write a maths exam with first standard students. I stood behind him watched him solo posing. I realised instead of criticising him I should take a lesson out of him that next time I face guys like him or better than him I should be able to show them the backstage door. He deserved criticism for standing in way of amateurs like us. That work was done by my fellow people. Thanks to them.

Well I planned my return. But I am looking at a drought, again. I remember the October month of 2016. I had no money. No job. No house. Mr Meghalaya was in November. Neigrihms joining was awaited and delaying on account of durga puja dusshera holidays. Sometimes I realise these festivals just turn up to delay the office works. I resigned from Nazareth on account of the rude behaviour of the administrator. Then I became Chris Gardener of Pursuit Of Happyness. Baia kept telling me to stop bodybuilding. I was reluctant. On the stage of Mr Meghalaya 2016, I did look like a potato. I am a bengali, being a potato is in my gene. After the show I returned to see myself in mirror and I told myself I won't quit. I told Baia I will compete again next year. She was angry. At most of the situations I kept referring to movies. Dad said no bodybuilding. I became like Niki Lauda walking out of his house determined to race. I remember how I used to keep Baia waiting for me in Galaxy gym while I told her to let me finish my work out. Santosh used to walk to me smiling and telling me "she is here bro." She was always supportive for me. Right from the first day I had told her bodybuilding will always be my first preference, anything else will come secondary, so never complain about it. And she kept her word. At the restaurants she used to see me starve myself, on account of dieting. She was my tutor at home. She was apt in picking up my flaws while posing. Like my parents and fellow Doctors, she also always wished me to do pg. When I was planned to leave shillong to come kolkata in October 2017 to pursue pg she said she was elated. She started saying she would be missing me. I had planned my return to Shillong the moment I took the cab to airport from police bazaar. Just that the return happened with in one month. When I told her I cancelled my pg plans for bodybuilding, she said ok. I wonder why did I think of leaving the three months extension option of neigrihms and returned to Kolkata just to return in one month. She couldn't make it to any of my bodybuilding competitions till now. Yet she used to keep praying and she would start messaging about the results. If the results went well it would end with celebrations and photography like in Mr Meghalaya. If results went otherwise it would end with me walking out with a down face. Well to tell you the truth, you can asses the results in tanning area itself. And if you are aware of some powerpuff competitors, like when I had spotted Sohail in tanning area in Ironman Classic I realised he was the champ. After that the stage is just for the last rituals. Use the lights. You have practised the posings well, so go on the stage and entertain the audience and show the judges what you are. The fight is won or lost far away from the witness in the gym, before I dance under those lights - Muhammad Ali. His lines have always been motivating any gym enthusiast. Sohail came to me in the back stage on Mr Meghalaya to check my posing again. That was a nice sportsmanship.

Leaving the Galaxy gym and joining Iron House gym in Rynjah was the turning point decision. I remember I walked in the Iron House, met Bransley and fired the first question at him "how much weight can your leg press machine carry?" He looked at me for a moment and said "this is a heavy duty machine, it is very good." I replied "Will it tolerate 800 kgs?" He was silent for some seconds and then smiled and said "you please come in morning and meet my dad and talk to him."
Next day morning I was there at 7 am, met uncle, he always carries a smile on his face. His first notion at me was "yeah I remember you, you looked like a potato on the stage of Mr Meghalaya." Thats how I collected the reference for myself "potato on stage in 2016, champion of champions in 2017." Does sound arrogant I know. But its true.
Anyway I missed working out with Santosh though. In gym if you have someone going parallel to you or someone doing better than you, you get the boost. In Iron House gym I was the king. The gym looked at me as the possible contender for trophy as the gym didn't have anyone yet who could have brought home the trophy. The only person who pushed me to extreme in Iron house was Mantre, his struggle during cut down phase before Ironman Classic in September 2017. Mantre was very young. Was introduced to bodybuilding by Javed. They never bulked up. Never acquired the size of a bodybuilder, fitted well in a state level low weight category, but they were sculpted best for a Physique competition. Mantre hit the gold in Physique division in Mr Meghalaya in October 2017. The way the guy dragged himself into the gym in evening when already the morning workout weariness hadn't left his face then. Then with dry sunken face he used to look around and struggled with his work out. I looked at him and used to tell myself 'if he can do it why not me.' This line has killed the young generation, especially in India. But the line went "if he/she can do it why not you." This line was blown on our faces by our parents. Basically for exam marks. I don't know how many times I got to hear it from my parents. Now my dad has become a little tired of spelling his those cherished words, simply because he realised I no longer wish to be compared to his selection of scholars. Nowadays I prefer to blast my ass in gym with corrected version of the very same 'if he can do it why not me.'

Neigrihms contract finished. Nazareth won't take me. Looking at Bethany Supercare and DHS office, to, redeem my bodybuilding dreams. Shillong house rents are pretty high. My dad tells me with that much rent I can get a 3 bhk flat on tenth floor in posh areas of Kolkata. Bodybuilding is an expensive thankless sport. Quoted by dear Andrew Bareh. Correction from me. It is not a sport. But it indeed is expensive and thankless. A person does it simply because he/she loves to do it. It is the art of sculpting. Cited by Arnold Schwarzenegger. But that sculpting process takes the whole toll on a person. In India where a person's ability to chase passion is just dying. This one adduced by my Henry Nongrum Sir. Not quite so. My cousin, Shaswata Roy, breezed his way into Chennai IIT in his first attempt without any coaching, preparing at home, and he is never satisfied with his performance, he never likes anyone to speak high about him nor does he ever wish to say what he has achieved. He just knows his next destination thats all what matters to him. He is happy when he is let to do what he is doing. He is focused. Its something like Sachin Tendulkar, you let him bat for the nation and he is the happiest person in the world. Records don't matter to him. So basically if your passion is something to do with studies, that will be welcomed by the Indian society. But if it is anything other than studies, it becomes controversial. And being born in a Bengali family I am facing this problem like hell now. Sat with books after so long past few days, mugging up for pg entrance exam, felt like I am being forced to swallow 10 kgs bitter gourd in one sitting. Went to a nearby gym in evening, after 20 minutes when the endorphin kicked in, I just realised how much I missed Iron house gym in rynjah.
My dad wishes to buy me a car in attempts to prevent me from leaving home. And I want to go back to Shillong. I wish my dad would spare me half of that car money so that I can thrive my bodybuilding on it. Surely if you stay in north east for two years, you will only be diagnosed as mad to leave that place to set your tent in kolkata mumbai chennai etc. Yesterday I got fined thousand rupees by kolkata traffic police for a hopeless reason. The shillong traffic police was better. No work gets done in kolkata on time. Heat, dust, arrogant people broadcasting their stupid opinions on the road. And inside the house, mosquitoes. Every official is corrupted. Everyone is lazy. People here just love to eat and sleep. No doubt West Bengal should be renamed as tummy land, the grand house of diabetes and hypertension. And people will have problem if I say I wish to do bodybuilding, I want to go back to Meghalaya where people aren't so lazy like here. Last evening I messaged Baia 'nothing seems right with this world.' When I wished to marry her, our religious and community differences crept in. Bengali parents need to be addressed that education wasn't meant to make their daughters and sons doctors and IITians, but to evolve their thinking process.
Maybe I should tag myself now as 'married to bodybuilding.'
Thinking of going for national level body, I have to build a thing like Sunit Jadhav. The guy is a masterpiece. With my height maybe if I bring a Lee Priest thing on the stage then maybe some chances are there. And it takes years to sculpt anything that we worship, be it the Lee Priest or Phil Heath. I cannot stand like a mass monster on the stage, though I wish to be one, like Dorian Yates, Roelly Winklar. With my height I should look forward to be a giant killer instead. Lee Priest was the giant killer. They have started calling William Bonac giant killer now although he looks like a giant himself. Or refer to the 212 category guys. Flex Lewis. He is a big time motivation. He should look to Hadi Choopan now. I don't know why Hidetada Yamagashi never opted for 212 category.
And then I wish if my parents had supported me for bodybuilding. I just envy Bransley how his dad prompts him for bodybuilding competitions. I feel I was born in wrong part of the world. I should have followed Batiston Sir's advice much earlier to go to Shillong for bodybuilding.

Maybe this time when I ride to Shillong I will listen to Guns n Roses song "Take me down to the paradise city where the grass is green and girls are pretty ... " Two Steps From Hell and Audiomachine tracks kept me going on in gym these past two years. I selected To the Victory track from Two Steps From Hell for my solo posing. Lets never mark out the Hans Zimmer Lost But Won track from the movie Rush. That beautiful combination of Ron Howard and Hans Zimmer creeps under the skin during the endurance work outs.

'What's going on.. '

Urging to go back on long rides. The gym has captivated me. I want to grow big, huge.. like the Mr. Olympia contestants. Thats not easy.

Sometimes I just sit and tell myself 'its all about stuffs you push into your body.' Sounds unfair though. But when you get the kick in gym, its feels like as if you have discovered God. Its addictive.

Not sure what's gonna be more addictive for me, staying and working in Shillong or life discovered as a free bird on my thunderbird. Hope the second one works better. Yet looking at the summer heat baking the rest of India I tell myself Shillong is good. 

Suffering a nasal congestion and Cherry snapped at me "go more on long rides" as if my bike rides were responsible for my urti. Everytime I get a fever I try to figure out which patient gifted me the thing. Talking about bike rides, realized one heavenly thing : nothing makes you happier than reviving your bike back after an accident.

The last bike ride to Jowai made me feel the happiness of being single more, being irresponsible, being free. Twisting and turning through the green hills, turning your head to lust the pretty valleys glimmering under the clouded sunshine, songs running from your headphone. Robbie williams feel, angel, chayiya chayiya, this song does knock rolls while biking in Cherrapunji, some Emraan hashmi movie songs, Kishore kumar songs, ah well last time I kept singing Mere naseeb mai ae dost tera pyaar nahi.. Some how from some where the forlorn ghosts always manage to creep in. Whatever.

Nowadays if somebody yips at me at my future family plans I yap back "do I look like a guy who wants to get married." 

In short, life is good here. Nice emergency duty. Nice working environment except few assholes around, you can't get a perfect scenario anywhere though. Learning things even though I don't get time to open books at all. Nice climate. Above all.. Peace. Probably living a dream era with a dream body in making. Or who gets to work out in the most hot shot gym of the city with anabolics on the run. Probably the best place to bike around. 

And yet all good things must come to an end. And the end is knocking with pg dreams ahead. I don't know what will life be as a medical officer forever. Lord knows what will happen to our college pg seats. If that goes away, again opening books is tough to imagine presently.

Tonight at the gym one new guy was being instructed by everyone about the correct posture on T bar. It rather had turned into a hilarious moment. Gym freaks. Somehow out of the busy responsibility filled life of everyone of these people, they take out time to sweat it all out and enjoy their time in the Galaxy gym. The song running at the moment was 4 Non blondes What's up. Looking at the new fellow surely it was a what's up scenario. I said hey whats going on. Thats a nice song. Or rather I should be reminded of Emi waking up with a muddled face at 3 am on emergency table when a gasping patient brought in. Emi woke up with a gesture "whats going on.." 

Completing the triangle

Lets start with rewriting about Kolkata.

Everybody loves their own native city. So if being a bengali I offer my adoration for Kolkata, shouldn’t sound much different. Yet. My city was once reffered to as the great City of Joy. That was by Dominique Lapierre back in 1985, that was even before I entered in this world. And the book mainly had to do with Mother Teresa. Whatever.

I am missing the city. People with tummy everywhere. Ha ha. Really. Tummy people. They won’t even fit well in the congested crowd of local trains but somehow they will make space for themselves and their tummy. Another person could easily fit in had the tummy of the first person disappeared. Surprising thing is no one would complain about the hush push of that kind.

Same was in Durga Puja. Just keep walking with the crowd. That was one thing told to me by Shubhojit I think, I don’t remember his name exactly. He had accompanied Gopal da. Actually he always accompanies Gopal da during Durga Puja time. Last year too he was seen wearing the same kurta punjabi he had worn this year. He would accompany Gopal da basically for drink sessions. Last year Durga Puja I had spent in Hindustan Bar at Esplanade. This year I had made strict to them that I would go to dj pub specifically and not in some bar. Nightlife in Kolkata is not as good as Delhi.

So this time we had gone to Privy in Elgin Road. I had visited the place once earlier with Bhavya Sirohi sir. Unfortunately this time we entered the lounge at 4 pm and the dj was supposed to start at 9 pm. The drinks didn’t hit me at all. Then we ordered hookah, which gave me nasal congestion for a week. Bad.

We walked out of the lounge at 7 pm. I decided to visit some Durga pandals after that. And Gopal da helped me do that. Surely we went from Elgin road straight to Maddox square. As always Maddox square would exhibit one stage show, some live concert. And people would be seen sitting on the grass. Aman ali had come there a day before. The earlier evening I had accompanied my Kaku kakima. They took me to the Naktala pandal, that was where I got to evidence the Kolkata Durga puja crowd for the first time. He scenario was the same at every famous pandal. Suruchi Sangha, Ekdalia, Tridhara, Chetla, College square. I had visited Shobhabajar Rajbari and Mohammad ali park next day noon time, so was lucky not to meet that crazy crowd rush. Deshapriya park had been shut down on Panchami by police citing the uncontrolled crowd rush. Country’s tallest Durga idol was erected at there. Shashti evening I was with Kaku kakima. Saptami evening I was with Gopal da. That midnight I had got lost at Gariahat mor I think. We weren’t finding any transportation to Behala. I was just standing and glancing the crowd at 12 am. People were no where sleepy or tired. Finally I decided to take bus to Hiland park and bade Gopal da goodbye.

I had woken up Kaku at 1 am, saying I wanted to spent the night at his place. He welcomed me. Next day morning, Ashtami, I woke up to leave Kaku’s apartment to rush to Shobhajar rajbari to see the morning aarti there, but couldn’t. I will hold my shoes responsible for that. My new pair Woodland were killing my ankle joint. Usually the new pairs do so. The metro trains had started that early at 8 am. So was left stranded at Garia deciding to watch The Martian at South City. The Martian was good but not as good as Interstellar for sure. Surely the humor was true that Matt Damon had won the most convincing person for homecoming after Saving Pvt Ryan, Interstellar and Martian.

I had decided to leave for Sundarbanns next day. On bike. Dad didn’t permit me to go by bike so had an arguement with him. Parents told me not to take Jojo with me, but next day I drove straight to Pishi’s home to pick up Jojo. Jojo, good name Oishik, my Bodo Pishi’s son.

The day had started with me waking up at 5 am. Parents would always wake up up early. Mom did notice that I had woken up. Soon mom called me downstairs. She asked if I was gonna leave for Sundarbanns. I said yes. She tried to give a panicking expression. I cared the least. Dad wouldn’t talk to me. They finally told me to leave after they return from morning walk sesson. I again didn’t reply. Soon they left I put one litre milk for heating, then prepared a choclate cornflakes milk with bananas. Awesome it was. Two spoons in mouth I was running to prepare my saddle bag on my bike. Left the music players playing Love Me Like You Do of Ellie Goulding at full volume. Time was 5:30 am. God knows what had crept into my head to blast that song at 5:30 am when the day was Navami, the Puja pandals were heard playing nice Puja hymns. By the time my parents returned I was prepared to leave. Dad had just interrupted saying that Sundarbanns required prior booking. I showed least care again. I just replied that I knew what to do and stepped out.

Filled up up the tank. Withdrew some money. Thought it would be enough for a safari. I had no idea what Sundarbann was. Picked up Jojo. Recited the whole affair I had with my parents about the trip to my Pishi. They just laughed. And me and Jojo set out. Took the Diamond Harbour road to Amtala to Baruipur to Canning to Godkhali. I had thought that my bike would be able to go upto Gosaba but Gosaba was an island. The bike had to be parked at Godkhali only. The route to Godkhali from nowhere appeared to be a way to a National Park. Villages at every two kilometers. People running over the streets like the street is their home. I really couldn’t speed up much. What amused me was before entering Godkhali the banana trees, coconuts, dat palms, and the green fields with water bodies in between them, huts made of hay, people paddling the cycle van carrying coconuts and vegetables. That was a bit of Gram Bangla. I used to love it. Greenness everywhere.

After reaching Godkhali I was looking forward to drive ahead. Didn’t know that I had reached the dead end of the roadways. The waters were just few meters ahead. Hazrat intercepted us then. The next three days he was the one who entertained us. He showed me where to park my bike. Then he showed us the way to his boat. I slipped on the plastic track they had spread for connecting their boats with the land. This plastic track would keep floating with the waters in high and low tides. We were the unbooked people. A four membered family had joind us on the boat. And then, started a really novel stay on the Sundarbann waters.

40% of the Sundarbanns is in India, rest is in Bangladesh. They used to say the proper maintenance has been done in the Indian parts only. During our three days tour, we could cover only one sixth of the forty percent Indian part of Sundarbann. I wasn’t expecting a tiger sighting for sure. The archipelago was extensive. The islands were vast enough to provide a green homeland for the animals to reside peacefully inside them. So the chances for the animals to come on the shore areas was rare. And the engine noise of the boats would drive them away for sure. We had spotted some red dotted deers. And a monitor lizard. One crocodile. Lots of monkeys. Lots of birds. Lots of crabs and mudskippers. That was common. The Royal Bengal Tiger was seen at the zoo. They had entrapped one at Jhorkhali for the frustated tourists who came such a long way to spot a Royal Bengal Tiger only.

Through out the whole trip, Jojo kept suggesting me to read The Hungry Tides. Well that would have been quite difficult for me. The last novel I had attempted to read was Mario Puzo Godfather. That session also ended with two thirds of the novel. I really have lost the ability to finish any novel. prefer it in the form of a movie. Really. Watch those Nicholas Sparks, Twilight, Harry Potter, Dan Brown stuffs transformed into movies. In just two hours you get to not only know the entire story but also a worthy direction, hero heroine, music. People used to say that reading any novel is a better experience than watching it in form of a movie. The last time I experienced that was while watching Fifty Shades of Grey. I hadn’t finished that novel either eventhough that I had desired to.

While finishing the Sundarbann trip, I made the bike trip to enter Kolkata by different route, via Science City. Had gone via Amtala. We took a different turn at Canning. The only thing Jojo complained about me after returning was that I am a rash driver. Come on dude. I maintained my utmost composure while driving with Jojo on the pillon seat. Surely I enjoy riding alone more.

The only comfortable seat is the driver’s seat. The pillon rider seat surely looks better with a back support, but in reality the front man enjoys the show. The only time I had sat on the pillon seat was from Bharsar to Pauri while I let Thejus drive. The pillon rider is supposed to be the gadget inspector, with the dslr and mobile in his hands. Something Jojo felt impossible to work up with. 

The best experience about the whole trip of Sundarbann is the staying tenure on the boat. The boats would keep cradling with the modest waves. Absolute serenity. Just you and the Sundarbann. The island side mangroves would keep getting dipped in the high tides and again rise back in low tides. The narrow cannals would twist their ways into the islands. The point named Panchmukhi was a vast expanse of water. There were many spots like that too in Sundarbann. At evening time the boats would come up in the middle of the waters and stay right there till the morning. All the boats would keep dancing in the centre waters. You could easily spot tourists on other boats having their dinners. The anchors would make the boats twist around the rope axis. The dawn break would alarm up everyone on the boats. That was a beautiful experience in itself. With that watch the sun rising with the waters all turned red wth the boats floating over them. The breeze kept the hold night calm and serene. The morning rays would flash over the waters in between the boats like a sword. And I always loved to take morning baths at the front part of the boat. Overall it was beautiful. The food on the boat was delicious. Chicken fish all the time. I always slept on the top floor of the boat.

After returning from Sundarbann, I wanted to watch atleast one Isl match at Salt Lake stadium. Supratim was missing from Kolkata, so couldn’t. This is another guy who loves to roam around like hell. This time he was at Munshiyari. I visited mmy Mashi instead at Bagula. The place has changed a lot now. Last time I was there was fourteen years ago. I went searching for the paddy fields but sadly couldn’t find them. Those paddy field areas also got inhabited. Hay cottages and huts everywhere. What has man done.

Return from Bagula, and I had declared that I am gonna return to Wardha to pick up a new rural centre. Parents were very particular that I was not make to Wardha via bike. And I was hell bent for another bike ride. And I did do that. Just the execution of the plan went too well, until I got caught during my stay at Bilaspur.

Had told everyone in my family that I had booked the train tickets and that I had booked the parceling of the bike too. A big lie for sure. Had kept the bike at Gopal da’s residence for one day. Next day packed up bags to leave for Howrah station by bus. Problem turned up was that one of my neighbour got frenzy to drop me at Howrah station by his car. Come on. My bike was waiting for me at Behala only and this guy was gonna drop and make catch a train which I hadn’t even booked tickets of. Funny situation I had got into. Somehow I persuaded this neighbour of mine to drop me at nearby bus stand. And their my father got hell bent on getting my a taxi. What the hell. They finally made me ride a taxi which I turned back to Sarsuna. I had to pay him 100 rs extra for doing that. Met Gopal da, received my bike, tied the stuffs onto it. And another bike ride.

Honestly, this trip, from Kolkata to Wardha, I hadn’t done my map work properly before setting out. A rough calibration was to make a stop at Kendujhar by night fall, next at Bilaspur, then Wardha. The thing that went wrong was the late start from Kolkata.

The road leading to the outskirts of Kolkata, upto and beyond Kharagpur was too good. Problem started after that. I will never forgive those roads. Actually the road was even existing there. Looked exactly as if I was dirt biking with heavy loads tied on my pillon seat. The damn trucks got me covered with dirt like anything. It went on till I touched Odisha. Really I was cursing the West Bengal govt for the hell condition of the highways. Odisha welcomed me with forests, which kept getting denser with hills as the night few in. I was determined to make stop at Kendujhar, where I reached by 8 pm. Next day early I started again. That ride was a beautiful one. It was cold morning. Green thick forests spiraling around the hills. My eyes kept noting the distance to be covered for reaching Bilapsur. Touched Sambhalpur around 11 am. Visited the Hirakud Dam. Then made my way around Raigarh to Champa Akaltara to Bilaspur.

Better quote Pranay .. “bilaspur has spread like a splash of water.” While making my way through the sides of Chouksey engineering college, I couldn’t even realize when Bilaspur had actually started. The roads have become far dustier, more crowded. First thing I did after entering Bilaspur was paying visit at my old Hemunagar. Surely no one recognized me there. Met Panu sir and to my utter surprise I don’t know how he recognized me shouting “arnab aya re.” It would be like after ten years I was meeting him. After that I made my way to Vinobanagar where Pranay’s mom was waiting. She didn’t know that I was coming by bike. Grabbed some sweets from Mahesh sweets. Finally rested at Pranay’s house. Next day kept roaming whole day in the city. Bharat mata school, the bridge over arpa river, the Kali temple, the rly football ground, lunch at Panu sir’s home, meeting people at my old locality. Finally back to resting for the night at Pranay’s home.

Next day early morning I left for finishing my journey. Bilaspur to raipur to bhilai durg rajnangaon to gondia, maharashtra started. Nagpur to wardha. The whole way I made it over bypasses. The road was fantastic throughout. So many butterflies this time. So many got squashed on my visor and jacket. I had hit one big goat on the highway around bhilai I remember. The herd goats got released on the highway my the shepherd without noticing my bike speed. It was no way possible to halt the bike as it was zooming at 120 kmph. Yet I slowed it as much as possible, hit the goat by my bike leg guard and kept watching it my rear view mirror. It seemed the goat just got hit, rolled, and got back on its feet. I told myself thank God the goat survived.

Vinamra tiwari welcomed me Sevagram Jnbh. I touched Sevagram by 3 pm.

And so.. thats how I finished the triangle. From wardha to uttarakhand to kolkata and back to wardha. Really its difficult to write so much after a great bike trip.

Shillong filler

What if I finish off one writ in 15 minutes.. ha ha
That would be an impossible task for me while updating blog.

Rishi is getting married.. finally.

Ain't ever say "the story is over so that you can start writing now."
This is for Rishi who would often say "the story has turned out to be like this so you can start writing." One should fire back at Rishi like Stallone snapped back at Sam in First Blood "Nothing is over." ha ha ha ha ha

Shillong is cold. Yet a better place than Uttarakhand.
I am unfolding fondness for Shillong .. appears to be a fit place to settle down but the Kiran buzzer keeps buzzing as he had spotted Shillong lacks the competitive spirit for a better future as we would see at other Indian cities.

Who cares.
For a vagabond like me a piece of solace means alot.

So.. before I finally shudder off d climax of this writ in 15 minutes.. lets blow a thoughtful libretto..
You know you are in love when the coldest romantic music keeps fueling your muscles during an intense work out. Whether its the Ed Sheeran All of the stars and Khamoshiyaan movie songs during the 15 kms run in Melghat, or the Ed Sheeran Photograph and Main Rahoon ya na rahoon song at Galaxy gym in Shillong.. Makes me remember The Reason and Hero playing at Jnbh gym.
But the pretty faces keep reappearing. You always meet beautiful people when you are a traveller. Being in love is always like full of life.

Hope the new anabolics help me win the bodybuilding competition. Didn't ever think bodybuilding was really this hard.

15 minutes over. Trying to update the travel diaries. 

Uttarakhand to Kolkata

My ipod shuffle was playing Wo Lamhe.. by Atif Aslam from the movie Zeher. It was the time when I was crossing the bridge over Ganga in Varanasi. Time was 5:30 am. Grand trunk road.. NH2 more precisely. The dawn had just broken in. The truck lights were then disappearing slowly into the day light. After the whole night drive the daylights finally were there to offer me some relief.

The river looked beautiful. Two three boys were seen jogging on the bridge footpath. Really lucky them should I call them to find a spot like that to run. I really wished to stop and take some snaps. But then the signboard showing ‘Kolkata 732 kms’ kept itching me not to skip the grip over the accelerator. The night had taken toll over me. Head was buzzing with heaviness, the eyes really wanted to stoop down for a nap. But then I wanted to reach home before 5 pm.

1800 kms in 35 hours..

Digest that you ardent blog reader.

One and only reason to do a strenous bike trip of this kind was to test my buddy Thunderbird 350. I am mad so I personally didn’t need any test to show the degrees of my madness. Just wanted to check if my bike could tackle my frenziness. The bike is a solid stuff.

Kawalkar still bluffs, like he always used to in college days. Certain things never change. He had commented that my bike would screw up definitely on a such journey and that Enfields are not reliable and much more blah blah blah. I should say the bike is good. No heating problem. 40 kmpl on such a ride with a record of 9000 kms in 5 months. Amaravati to Melghat to back to Nagpur to Jabalpur to Agra to Haridwar to Bharsar in Uttarakhand to Hisar through Delhi and back to Bharsar then to Dehradun to Bharsar to Kolkata via Lucknow Allahabad Varanasi.

I had left Bharsar on 6^th October at 6 am, exact at 6 am my bike ignition was switched on. I had woken up at 4:30 am followed by a snooze of 20 minutes. Knew  what was gonna follow would be a 36 hrs non stop ride to home. So wanted a nice nap refreshed mind. But as usual, the mind doesn’t sleep peacefully when what is gonna follow next day early morning is a firecracker. I remember I hadn’t slept properly the night before embarking the Uklana tour. Even if you fall asleep, as if the brain keep riding bike whole night, and you wake up in the middle of the night trying to tell the brain to shut up and go to sleep. That sucks.

Happiness was leaving the Bharsar campus. The horticulture university campus surely didn’t deserve a doctor. Too much superstitious practitioners and ignorant idiots. There is no such term as ‘ignorant idiot’ for sure. Better would be just simply an ‘idiot’. More precisely talking of the Bharsar trp section, educated idiots would be the best. Driving out of the gates was such a pleasure. What I knew ahead was waiting for me was 1800 kms highway. Big day it was.

I had to get my engine oil changed at Najibabad. Also got the chain oiled. I didn’t get the 4 way lanes until I crossed Moradabad. Had taken one wrong turn at Moradabad, which rectified later. That was when I realized that I needed to rely heavily on my mobile gps rather than the roadside signboards or the public opinions.

This time, Highway to dangerzone track from the movie Top Gun kept humming in my mind. Song of the trip would We All Die Young by Steel Dragon. Although I didn’t listen to this track through out the trip. Ha ha. I forgot to load it in my ipod, but since I realized later that it would serve as the track of this trip so I downloaded it on my mobile just before stepping out and through out my trip I never connected earplugs to my mobile.

After Moradabad, I ravaged my bike at 120 kmph through out the whole expressway stretch to Bareily. After Bareily, the roads became hell. That continued till Sitapur. The bad roads exhausted me like anything. Spotted a beautiful sunset over the green fields after Bareily but didn’t stop.

This thing really created itches for me this time. How you overtake the trucks and then you don’t want to take any stop because the trucks you overtook will go ahead of you again if you halt. The time lapse occurs on such long trips thats a different thing. And on the four way or six way lanes, most of our truck drivers are still ignorant on to which way to drive.

Had touched Lucknow at night 12 am I think. Two drunkards I met at tea stall on Lucknow outskirts, they were airforce employees, thats what they said. My bike attracts attention, the heavy baggage on it attracts even more, then comes the number plate “you are from Maharashtra, you drove upto here?”  Thats when I have to spell my travel diaries to them in as short as possible. Then comes the doctor sign “you are a doctor?” Then they spot my beard. Thats how the cloudburst of queries thunder on me. This time these two drunkards had even clicked one selfie with me. Unknown road, unknown city, unknown people, midnight, and a selfie. I am crazy. His name was Vargis. He even noted down my number. He called me in the evening time a day after.

Whole night I just kept calculating my chances of crossing Varanasi before the 6 am. That way if  I drove like hell after Varanasi, I would be able to reach Kolkata before 5 pm. I wanted to watch Atletico de Kolkata match which was to start at 7 pm. I touched the G T road at 3 am. Big broad expressway. Pleasure was mine. I fired like hell after that. It was then that my ipod started playing Joker and The Thief by Wolmother. I did play it repeatedly. Helped my to stay awake.

It was dark. Allahabad was flying past in that darkness, as did the rivers. The trucks would run all night. I had stopped just before Varanasi for a cup of tea. That would be my fifth cup of tea for the night. My butt was aching. Knee joints a bit. Head was still ok. I had suffered a headache in the afternoon driving with the sun on my face. The dialects had changed there. It was almost like the Maithili dialect that the old men at the tea stall were speaking.

The day broke. With lending me the views of the Ganga. The song Wo Lamhe was buzzing in my earphones. It couldn’t had got better. There were reasons why I wanted to visit the Ganga ghats of Varanasi. But really couldn’t have done it then as riots were going on in the city with curfew called up the previous day. I always loved the Ganga ghats there. The evening prayers.

After crossing Varanasi I didn’t keep a notice as to the personal map landmarks, kind of the target spots that I usually fix that I have to reach in allotted time. Dehri sone asansol etc etc. I just kept running. All I kept a watch at was my speedometer. It wasn’t supposed to go below 100kmph. And the distance travelled. I kept matching it with the signboards showing how far Kolkata was. The butt ache was intensifying then. As were my knee joints. Morning time I was swaying with my sleepy eyes for sure. I was remembering the song Sway With Me then. Ha ha.

The Dehri Sone bridge was really a long one. Nothing else was that remarkable on the way. Yeah at Topchanchi there was big lake, boats were seen over it. After that there were hills.

The coconut date palm trees had started long before West Bengal had set in. Yet the touch of West Bengal enriched the beauty of the date palms and coconuts. Durgapur followed by Burdwan. The road was fine, unlike the condition of the road before Burdwan, diversions and constructions at every few kilometers.

Burdwan marked the touch of rain clouds hovering over my head. You are in vicinity of Kolkata and you won’t get to touch rain drops thats not possible. I opened my helmet visor to feel the humid winds on my face. The smell of Kolkata as if. The smell of Bengal. A smile on my face. I was gonna make it then to home before 5 pm. I had made up a good distance since the dawn break at Varanasi. My butt and knee joints had given up.

Just before entering Kolkata, around 20 kms away, I could see the rain slashing at me on the highway ahead. I got down. That was the moment to take out my dslr for few snaps. This trip I hardly bothered for stopping for snaps. Few snaps and the rains snapped by. It was a heavy rain accompanied by a few thunderstorms. The roads had gone vacant. Any rain, worse of the worst ones, I always remember the rain I had braved on my way to Uklana. Nothing compares to that one. Again the rain coat. I had worn the rain coat on my way out of Bharsar cause it was cold then, taken it off at Najibabad, worn it again after Lucknow, took it off after Varanasi, now wore it again. I took it off at Maidan.

If you lash your bike at 120 kmph for 3-4 hrs non stop, the petrol tank is bound to go empty every now and then. That was what happenning with me. All over the trip had cost me 3000 rs. Petrol.

Just on the outskirts of Kolkata a guy was test driving his Aquilla bike, the bike was zooming at 150 plus kmph.

Entered Dakhineshwar to be greeted my traffic. People. Congested roads. People everwhere. I have entered Kolkata. They let me cross the Ganga over the narrow bridge at Dakhineshwar. I could see the temple on  my left while crosssing the bridge. After crossing I asked for directions to Sealdah Station. And then the BT road. The whole journey didn’t break me the way the Kolkata traffic did it to me. 3 hrs it took for me to reach Home after touching Dakhineshwar.

I had forgotten the S.N.Banerjee road, the way to Esplanade. People staring at me and my bike. I asked a person the way to S.N.Banerjee road and in reply he hurled me with his queries, my bike, my job, my trip etc etc. It was traffic jammed road. The person was standing with a crowd waiting to cross the street and still they had the patience to bust me with such series of questions. Another person right in front of me joined him to help him out with questions about my trip. I asked him “where are you going?” “I shall be going to Howrah but I will show you the way to Chowrasta.”

That was one good thing about people in Bengal. Helpful they are. Something just the contradictory of what you shall find in north India.

Yellow cabs. Blue buses. White dressed police men. I am in Kolkata.

The S.N.Banerjee was as usual hell jammed. It was just 4 pm, wasn’t even the office get off time. God knows what happens after 5 pm. The man who wanted to help me out with way to Chowrasta had lost me in that jam of S.N.Banerjee road. I reached Esplanade to breathe some relief, then made way to Maidan, didn’t take the Park Street fearing the jam there. On entering the Maidan area I spotted the 3D bus. This bus used to take me home from my coaching classes at Shyambazar. I wanted to follow it. My curious glances on the bus was caught by its conductor. Accidentally I lost the bus. The bus took a sharp right and I went straight with the traffic. Later understood the route, halted besides the Race Course, to pack up rain coat and clean my face. My face was as if painted with coaltar. At that instance the man who wanted to show me the way to Chowrasta came up to me “Hey I thought I have lost you.. I was looking for you only. Good that you made this far.”

‘Dude I am not a total stranger here.’ I thought to myself. These people had an impression that I had started from Maharashtra and I tour all over India and right now I am in Kolkata. So they all wanted to help me thinking that I am a new comer here. The man did one great thing that he told me wch bridge to take over Khidderpore. I got the Diamond Harbor road after Khidderpore where a bus driver had almost got me down when he wanted to drive on the right side of the road and I kept honking to overtake him. My bike fell on its right resting on the railings, when four men came running to help me. They helped me pick up my bike. First two guys came, when they found the bike was too heavy to be lifted by them,  two more joined in. I bade them thank you, drove ahead to be frisked by the same bus driver who denied me a right pass. He shouted at me asking he didn’t realize that I was caught on to the wrong foot of the road. He said sorry. I said ok, smiled and drove past that bus. Ajanta theatre, Behala thana, Tram depo, Asoka theatre, Manton, Blind school and then Chowrasta. A right turn to the Biren Roy road. I forgot to fly a glimpse at my old gym infront of Housing. A left turn from Muchipara, to Sarsuna College. The lake stood as beautiful as always. The 18 D bus stand, left, right, right, left to view my Aunt’s home, right, right, left, left, left, left. Home.

My eyes were as if I was stoned hard. I watched the football match with my heavy eyes, my brain had as if stopped functioning. Happiness of the evening was taking the shower. Warm water. It was lukewarm. For me it was great. For the past four months at Uttarakhand I would take bath once on two three days.

So that ended my journey. The motorcycle did well.

You know what happiness is... Happiness is reading some pages of a novel on highway roadside, or eating an apple, on the side of highway, where green fields surround you. Just straight roads where the drivers hardly bother what you do. You now know how cold the mountains are. Cause you have been there. You know the value of warmth. And you know whats its like to drive through 45 degrees. You know landslides, cold rains. So a warm sunshine of the October skies seems beautiful to you.