The Hypocritical Oath

I have been to many doctors for the treatment of my various ailments for as long as I can remember, both physicians and alternative medicine practitioners. I especially despised the “hakims” (herbal medicine practitioner) with their bitter tasting medicines and the accompanying dietary restrictions.  No ice-cream, no candy, no fried food, no nothing! It took great willpower to follow such instructions at such a young age but I was able to accomplish this feat. Yet another ode to my fortitude!

Most of them are a distant memory. However, two come to mind as far as being memorable is concerned: one a doctor and the other a homeopath.

I unequivocally loathed the doctor. He was the Devil incarnate, every appointment an ordeal of epic proportions. Once he asked me the recipe of some breakfast item as I had told him I was taking cooking classes. The answer was easy according to him but when I could not respond correctly (the usual case), he proclaimed my responses to be slow! So in his expert opinion:

Me= Thickheaded + Dense + Dimwitted

I was only able to escape from his clutches when my final exams started. The latter being the lesser of two evils. Reasonably sure he must be a grumpy old man now.

The homeopath is also etched in my memory but for completely different reasons. The environs of her clinic were noteworthy. Actually, she had converted her garage into a clinic and there was no waiting room. Hence, everyone had to give a detailed narration of their illnesses and other awkward details which was exceedingly uncomfortable. Also, her favorite word was “symptomatic”. One memorable case there was of a 40something man whose complaint was that his black hair turns gray and then returns to its original shade. Mind-boggling indeed!  Anyway, I will refrain from further malice because Demortuis nihil nisi bonum (let nothing but good be spoken of the dead). She passed away a few years back.

Recently, my doctors’ visits have increased manifold. I've been to five different doctors in as many months. One refers me to another, it’s a vicious cycle. One of these illustrious five gave me six medicines for three symptoms. It just made everything worse.

Next, I went to another well renowned doctor whose appointment waiting period is at least six months. I was certainly privileged to have gotten one on an urgent basis (read: through someone). He did not give me any new medicines. Instead, I was handed a hefty bill for consultation and a minor test which I would have otherwise have gotten done for free. Very peeved I was! 

Fish Market Blues

My previous job (fish market) was a government one. There was massive over-staffing and all appointments were made on the basis of some sort of reference. A person who only had a high school education was hired as vice president just because he was a former minister’s son! How can such an organization make any progress?! Ironic indeed because “development” is part of the name of that highly esteemed and prestigious organization!

It was very frustrating when I saw people who were less qualified get inducted at higher grades. And they were treated like royalty. I also had to drive forty five minutes to get to that godforsaken place. The drivers there thought they were doing me a big, huge favor by parking my car. In contrast, they were at the beck and call of the royal highnesses.  Exasperated, I decided to park outside which extended my travel time to that hell-hole even further. In the last couple of months I was there, I got into a major accident and after that I really didn't feel like going there.

The people there used to have “fish parties” in the winters where they devoured enormous quantities of fish in a not so orderly manner. Gorging is a more appropriate word for the way they ate. Afterwards, everything reeked of fish which was absolutely revolting. In the summers, they gobbled up innumerable mangoes. That wasn’t exactly a sight to behold either. Gluttony personified!

They were also the embodiment of sloth. The golden rule was “look busy, do nothing”. Others spent their days spewing (so called) pearls of wisdom.  Some were inclined towards ogling.

Moreover, the organization seemed to be operating in a prehistoric era where all the work was done manually. All entries were made in huge ledgers and the fish and mango eaters preferred this ancient system. They were unwilling to change as is the case of most old timers.

Besides, I didn't fit into the Punjabi speaking, noisy setting.  An ode to my patience and perseverance for enduring this torture for almost four years!