Friday, July 17, 2020

गुलदस्त्यातले समाजकारण

गुलदस्त्यातले समाजकारण

समाज,चारचौघे,लोकं हे तसे चेहरा,ओळख नसलेले. कदाचित,समाजातल्या अलिखित, नीतिमत्तेच्या नियमांचे  रक्षण करणारी अज्ञात संस्था. समाजातल्या प्रत्येकावर एक अत्यन्त महत्वाचा प्रभाव.
एखाद्याने ह्या अलिखित नियमांचे उल्लंघन केले,तर त्याच्या अथवा तिच्या वर आक्षेप,आरोप,समीक्षेची झोड उठवण्याचे अत्यन्त महत्वाचे काम करणारे हे चारचौघे.
तसे म्हंटले,तर ही एक प्रकारची सौंस्थाच. या सौंस्थेचे सभासद म्हणजे, चौकटीत वावरणारे,आर्थिक आणि व्यावसायिक दृष्ट्या सबळ असलेले,चकाट्या पिटणारी निरुद्योगी,कीटी पार्टी मंडळी, स्वतः बंड करण्याची इच्छा असलेले,पण धमक नसलेले अतृप्त आत्मे. ह्या सौंस्थेला तसे आपल्या सौंस्कृतीत खूपच महत्व. लहानपणे हिंदी पिक्चर मध्ये,"बिरादरी के खिलाफ जाके" पळून जाऊन लग्न करणारे हिरो हेरॉईन खूपच भावायचे. तेव्हा विरोध करणे म्हणजे किती रोमँटिक,डेरिंग आणि डॅशिंग वाटायचे.
समाजाच्या नैतिकतेचा धुरा समभाळणाऱ्या आशा अनेक मंडळींशी प्रत्यक्ष,किंवा अप्रत्यक्ष संबंध गेल्या 3 दशकात आला. कॉलेज मध्ये असल्या पासून ह्या चार चौघांनी कधी पाठच सोडली नाही. सभासद बदलत राहिले,पण संस्था कायम.
इतरांच्या आयुष्यात डोकावून, कुणाकडून मिळालेल्या अर्धवट माहितीच्या आधारे, मनसोक्त तोंडसुख घेणारे हे हंगामी सभासद.
समाजात प्रत्येक व्यक्तीला एक सामाजिक लेबल लावण्याचे मौलिक काम करणारी ही मंडळी. हे शिक्के, त्या त्या व्यक्तीची कालांतराने ओळख बनून रहातात.
तो ना ? तो तर ........च आहे
ती तसलीच आहे
वगरे वगरे
आणि ही जजमेंट्स अत्यन्त छातीठोक पणे खात्रीशीर असल्याचा अविर्भावात केली जातात. सभासद  आपापल्या वैयक्तिक आयुष्यात ह्या नियमांचे कितपत पालन करतात, हा एक वेगळाच विषय. तरी, इतरांवर शाब्दिक वार करणारच. चोरी पकडली गेली नसल्यामुळे,आपण धुतल्या तांदुळा सारखे, विनापाश. हे स्वयंघोषित moral police किती दांभिक असतात याची प्रचिती अनेकदा झाली.
लफडी करणे, लाच घेणे,व्यसनं असणे अजिबात चुकीचे नाही. ती गुलदस्त्यात ठेवता न येणे,हीच चूक.
गुलदस्त्यात लपणारे हे भ्याड किडे.सगळंच चोरीछुपे.इतर   वेळी,कुठे काय, कुठे काय,"तो मी नव्हेच" चे बुरखे घालून इतर लोकांवर ताशेरे ओढायला हजर.
दांभिकता, ही एक कला आहे. सगळे करून सावरून समाजात ताठ मानेने चालणे, हा एक प्रकारचा  रॅम्प वॉक .केलेल्या दुष्कृत्यांचा कुठेही सुगावा न लागून देणे, हे खरे कसब. शेवटी,माणूस हा सगळीकडे सारखाच कोणीही कितीही नैतिकतेच्या बढाया मारल्या तरी. याचा अर्थ नैतिकतेची ऐसीतैशी,असे अजिबात नाही.
नैतिकतेचा प्रचार आणि प्रसार करणाऱ्या दांभिक मानसिकतेवरचा हा रोष आहे. कोण व्यक्ती,कुठल्या प्रसंगातून गेलाय,त्याचा जीवनाचा प्रवास, त्याच्या आयुष्यातील कटू प्रसंग,आणि त्याने घेतलेले निर्णय याचा उलगडा नसताना त्या व्यक्तीची शाब्दिक शिकार करणे हे दुर्दैवी. स्वतःचे ताट भरलेले असताना दुसऱ्याची भूक समजणे खरंच कठीण असते. गुलदस्त्यात आयुष्य व्यतीत करणारे, रस्त्यावरच्या पारिजातकाच्या फुलांची मानसिकता कधीच समजू शकणार नाही. किंबुहना,त्यांनी तो प्रयत्नच न करणे,हे इष्ट.

डॉ. दीपक रानडे

Society, others, people, peers all faceless entities, but an institution to safeguard the unwritten codes of conduct in society. Nonetheless, a very powerful influence on everyone.
An institution entrusted with the onerous task of reprimanding, criticizing and ostracizing anyone, who dares to beach the invisible implicit protocols. A club of moral high priests, members of which are the pseudo conformist, successful wealthy individuals, or then the largely time whiling kitty party types or then those meek, timid and disgruntled souls, harboring latent ambitions of breaking the norms, but never blessed with the courage to do so. This intangible institution however has great importance in the cultural ethos of every society.
Back in our childhood, there were many a movies made on the theme of eloping lovers, with scant regard to social norms. The protagonists really appealed to me at that tender age, and their acts of dissidence appeared so daringly romantic and dashing. Have had the privilege of either directly or indirectly dealing with these high priests of morality who bear the huge responsibility of guarding against moral  decadence in the last three decades. The members have changed, but the institution remains unfettered. These social voyeurs who never spare the opportunity to peep into the lives of others and castigate and assassinate their victims with highly insufficient facts or knowledge.
These slaves of opinion doing service to society by labeling their subjects, which eventually become their identities.
That guy is an incorrigible........
She always was a loose........
Etc Etc.
These verdicts and judgements are passed with complete conviction and confidence.
How many of this breed flout the very norms they preach is entirely another matter. They will relentlessly attack with their razor sharp verbal onslaught.
Their reputations kept intact, merely because their corruptive immoral acts remain unexposed. Have witnessed the doublespeak of this hypocritic tribe on many an occasion. Illicit affairs, vices, corrupt practices by themselves are not a crime. The inability to keep these under wraps is what constitutes a crime.
These people are the parasites infesting the bouquet of secrecy. Scheming wolves donning the  sheepskin of virtue, always geared up to pounce on the next victim.
Hypocrisy is an art. The ability to stand tall and strut around, a skill of confidently walking the ramp. The acumen of adroitly shrouding their indiscretions.
Human beings are pretty much the same, no matter how loudly anyone rants about the virtues of morality. I do not wish to target morality or virtue, but rather the hypocritical mindset of its  preachers and propagators. It's really unfortunate to see these perpetrators launch a relentless hunt without being privy to the circumstances, unfortunate turn of events, or sheer misfortune of their victims. Their contented bellies can never be in a position to interpret the angst of a famished soul.
Moral ostracism that's more  a travesty of justice. The flowers that rest comfortably ensconced in a bouquet can never comprehend the perils of a flower  blown away by the furious storm of circumstances.

Dr. Deepak Ranade.

The end of an era of Innocence

The End of
"Era of Innocent Romance"

I was in the fifth standard when I saw Bobby. I was ahead of my times, but this was largely possible because of my aunt, whose family were the owners of Apollo Cinema. I was given access to see the film that was certified for adult viewing.
 I was just getting initiated about the fundamental differences between boys and girls. But the image of that couple riding away on the famous Bobby motorcycle remained etched on my young mind. At that time, my best guess was  that the two were going on a picnic without the permission of their parents. But the innocence and freshness of the hero made a connect with a 10 year old. That was the USP of this extremely versatile, vivacious, strikingly good looking  Kapoor sibling. His boyish charm and disarming smile had fans across all ages, creeds, communities without any gender bias.
         This early tryst with Rishi later in my teens, morphed into adulation, and soon, I had  become an ardent fan. Medical school days were spent fantasizing, inspired by his romantic escapades, the very lively romantic pairing with Neetu Singh, the music competitions, prancing around trees, throwing snowballs in the picturesque surroundings of the Himalayas. He was the epitome of audacious, adventurous romance. The 'catch me if you can' demeanor was provocative and yet seductive. There was a boisterous appeal in his body language, coupled with the fragrance of a vibrant youthfulness.  The  element of rebellion was without a trace of arrogance, insolence or maleficence. His boyish charm almost always exonerated him of all the pranks and misdemeanors perpetrated by him. There was a subtle touch of naughtiness that brought a smile even to lips of those he offended. There was also a shade of vulnerability to his charisma, that melted the hearts of his lady loves. He garnished the dull,dreamy eyed romance with a dash of thrill, excitement and mischief,that bore no malice or ill will. The songs that  blessed his films, and his impeccable sense of rhythm made his gyrations aesthetically pleasing without any semblance of vulgarity. His inimitable style caused many a hearts to flutter. He lent to romance, that esoteric element of nascent, raw, aggression with a cavalier disdain for orthodoxy. He exorcised the guilt of moral indiscretion, that hounded young lovers without preaching them to sin. He stimulated the emotional taste buds by lending the  "chocolate boy" syrupy hero, a more tangy 'sweet and sour' flavor. Romance was transformed into a heady eclectic alchemy of energetic, restrained, understated passion, vulnerability, and a pleasurable angst.His antics and flirtatious excursions enthralled more than annoyed. When he strummed the guitar, he certainly made it look believable, unlike most contemporaries, who looked rather uncomfortable with this accessory that was meant to make them look hep.
He had an honest intensity that made even the rather clichéd romantic routines enjoyable. The lovable lover boy, who loved with a passionate zeal, that was infective and yet harmless. Essentially a brat, who was not spoilt. A well brought up, cultured brat, whose courageous acts of dissidence only added to his charm, and made him all the more irresistible.
May he bring cheer and happiness to the nether world.

चाँद मेरा दिल, चाँदनी हो तुम
चाँद से है दूर चाँदनी कहाँ
लौट के आना है यहीं तुमको
जा रहे हो तुम, जाओ मेरी जान

RIP my dear Rishi.

Dr. Deepak Ranade.

The Benediction of a Prone Hand

The Benediction of a prone hand.

Bankers, Investment Bankers, Angel funding, all are into lending money to various startups, businesses, entrepreneurs, small and medium enterprises, Their acumen and skill lies in their judgement and ability to back the right horse. However,if the borrowers or businesses do not perform as per expectations, and fail to repay the loan they are deemed as NPA - Non Performing Assets. What caused this contractual breach?  An error of judgement? Mitigating circumstances? Willful default? Force majeure?
These violations of trust and commitment  metaphorically reflect the dynamics of relationships too. The difference is merely of the instrument. In banking, one deals with finance, whilst in relationships, the instrument of transaction is emotion. Every relationship is an emotional loan, an investment of sorts. Most borrowers are regular in their repayment. Some repay with simple interest, some with compound interest. These prime borrowers have a high credit rating (reliability and reciprocity). Some continue to pay interest even after the principle is repaid. These are like investments in blue chip stocks, with timely rights issues, dividend, bonus and yield the highest ROI (return on investment) .
Then there are these non performing assets. There might be some compelling reason for non repayment. They still remain Standard assets, in whom we continue to trust.In banking jargon, these are loans which have defaulted for a period of 12 months or less but the risk of the asset is normal. They are given the benefit of doubt, and their credibility and intentions are still not lost.
If these defaults continue, their rating drops to sub standard assets. These relationships have continued to default beyond a reasonable period of time.  Banks classify these NPAs as those having dues for more than 12 months. They have a significantly higher risk level. Banks offer a "haircut relief" (reduction in market value and reduction of interest rates) to such NPAs because they are less certain that the borrower will eventually repay the full amount. In relationships, we accept this limitation of servicing the loan and extend our tolerance and acceptance as "haircuts'. We attribute their non compliance to idiosyncrasies, vagaries, circumstances,  giving them a long rope.
The next category is a lot less reliable. The Doubtful Debts. Non-performing assets in the doubtful debts category have defaulted for more than18 months. They raise serious doubts about the borrower. He might never repay the full loan. The doubtful debt category in relationships is where the trouble begins. The realisation, that one has invested heavily, and there seems to be no return over an uncomfortably long period. There is a despondency, a sense of having been let down with a growing trust deficit. There is an element of self castigation, for  erroneous  judgment. Often times, these kind of borrowers not only default on payments, but expect bailout packages. It's a no win situation. You are a fait accompli, a sorry collateral damage in their sagging fortunes, and at times are coerced into lending more, with full realization of the futility of patching a sinking ship. These relationships are a huge drain of emotional resources. Dead investments, with negative returns. And finally, there is this category of Loss Assets. They are loans that are written off. They might be wilful defaulters, or very rarely candidates eligible for evoking  the Force Majeure clause. Helpless and beyond redemption.They do not figure in the account books of our emotional balance sheets. They are the unavoidable professional hazards of this lending and investing business. Raises serious doubts about remaining in this lending business.  No matter how determined I am to stop extending emotional loans and investing in emotional bonds, I realize, that I'm an incorrigible optimistic lender with the benediction of a prone hand. I cant stop lending. I force myself to look at some of the blue chip stocks, that have yielded incredible returns as my prone hand and  mind dishes out the next loan. Emotions or finances, business must go on profit or loss notwithstanding.

Dr Deepak Ranade.

Minimalism

Minimalism - The new age mantra.

The COVID crisis has really moved and shaken mankind from the hypnotic spell  of omnipotence. No one had ever imagined that the third world war will be waged against a microbe. A microbe that's just a few microns has brought the most powerful species to its knees. A microbe, that was perhaps man made, or then again, possibly a natural mutation, we will never know. What we do know however is the effect that this microbe has had on every single being inhabiting this planet. Truly a global phenomenon, that has made mankind impotent, rendering all his achievements,  technological advances and intelligence futile. Nature will always have the  upper hand in this duel. Nature will also evolve along with man. Evolution is not the holy jurisdiction of man alone. Just that this evolution is far more subtle and operates on the macrocosmic as well as the microcosmic scale. Nature will always walk a step ahead. One could philosophically term this catastrophe as the unfolding of man's destiny. A destiny, that he sculpted with his own hands.  Or perhaps, destiny might just be an euphemism for the assertion of complete control by his creator. Civilization had  degenerated, to an insane insatiable indulgence. A Bourgeois ideoligy that stratified mankind into hierachies of haves, have nots and subclasses between. His quest for'More' had mutated from a need based, progressive constructive ambition, to a greed based  destructive, regressive carnal lust to consume.
The lockdown, it's restrictions,and social distancing have served to make him realise how basic his needs are, and the importance of releasing the throttle of gluttonous hedonism. Life had to have a greater meaning than just seeking pleasure, gratification and wallowing in abject materialism. Social distancing has paradoxically served to reconnect and bring him closer to himself. This enforced renunciation has reintroduced the virtues of restraint and minimalism. Needless extravagance, flamboyance, vulgar affluence were toys  of engaging the devious, restless mind and pandering the whims of his megalomaniacal ego. Value systems, temperance, prudence, compassion were sacrificial goats mercilessly slaughtered on the alter of the Demigods of wealth and power. Pleasure seeking had become a career, a way of life and more dangerously, the very purpose of life. This microbe has innoculated mankind with a dose of austerity, which will control  the disseminated infection  of  avaricious intemperance.  It has made mankind acutely aware of the value of a single breath. Blessed if that breath is  a lungful of clean air, or then doomed to a horrific end if the breath is contaminated with the virus. Mortality, which was obscured by his quest for eternity, had come knocking on his door with each breath.  Victory in this war against the microbe will leave no victors ,only survivors. The  euphoria of overcoming this microscopic scourge will be reduced to a pathetic Pyrrhic victory.  The threat of losing  life  was never so close at heels. Just a breath away. Perhaps, this was the only way to instill in mankind, the value and importance of minimalism and correct the course of his life from brazen indulgence to a more enlightened effulgence. The virus is certainly mutating. From an agent of his nemesis, to an epiphany of salvation.

Dr Deepak Ranade

The Long Jump Pit Marker

The marker on the long jump pit.

     There was a star emerging in the United States in the domain of athletics in the early 80s. He was Carl William Lewis. I was fortunate to read about him being an avid reader of the Time magazine, thanks to my father who had initiated in me, an eternal romance with the highly succinct, precise and perfect English in that magazine.
       Carl Lewis was determined to emulate his idol Jesse Owens spectacular achievement of winning 4 golds in the Berlin Olympics. 100 ms, 200 ms, 4x100 relay and the long jump. That was his dream. He was largely disappointed when America boycotted the 1980 Olympics.
   Come 1984 Los Angeles Olympics. The pace was set by Lionel Richies rendition of
"All Night Long" in a glittering opening ceremony. I was closely following my  hero, Carl Lewis, whilst grappling with my medical school routine.
       Lewis launched his quest to match Owens legendary feat with a convincing win in the 100 m, running 9.99 s beating rival fellow American Sam Graddy. In his next event, the long jump, Lewis won with relative ease. Lewis still had the heats and finals in the 200 m and the 4 × 100 m relay to compete in. He knew that his first jump at 8.54 m (28 ft 0 in) was sufficient to win the event.  He risked injury if he over-extended himself, and jeopardise his  ultimate goal to win four golds.
 He fouled on his next jump and then passed on his remaining four allotted jumps. Lewis easily won gold,  This did not go down well with his fans as the  media had hyped Lewis's quest to surpass Bob Beamon's legendary long jump record of 8.90 m (29 ft 2 1⁄4 in). Lewis himself had often stated it was a goal of his to surpass the mark.
     Finally, Carl William Lewis, did go on to emulate his idols feat of winning the 4 golds. He was really my hero, and I remember pasting his Picture on the walls of my hostel room, as a source of inspiration and a reminder to dream big, and work doggedly to make the dream come true.
However, there was another, bigger reason to do so. His love, devotion and faith in his father. Carl was trained  initially in his career by his father. He almost worshipped him. And his father reciprocated his feelings too.
Whilst training for repeating the 4 golds feat, the doting father would sincerely be by the sons side, clock his timings, and guide him. For the long jump, he would keep a marker of the existing Olympic record on the side of the pit. The Olympic record was way below the World Record of Bob Beamon. Carl had to ensure, that he crossed that marker to win the Olympic gold.
During a press conference, it is said, that his father took the blame for his sons infamous act of not attempting any further after  clearing the Olympic record.
His father said," I should never have put the marker of the Olympic record when Carl was training. I limited my son's abilities by placing the marker."
I recall this incident with goosebumps. It reminds me of my father, who never placed any markers when I was studying and building my career. He never resorted to comparisons of any sort. He firmly believed in my abilities, and never set any benchmarks. He respected my uniqueness, loved me for whatever I was, and trusted me almost more than himself.
         The epilogue to the Carl Lewis saga is the icing on the cake. It was 1987,World Championships in Athletics in Rome.
 Lewis skipped the 200 m to focus on his strongest event, the long jump, and made sure to take all his attempts.  Lewis's leaped to  8.67 m (28 ft 5 1⁄4 in) to take the Gold. In the 4 × 100 m relay, Lewis anchored the gold-medal team to a time of 37.90 s, the third-fastest of all time.
However, it was the 100 m final  that turned epic and  caused the most drama. In the final, the Canadian sensation, Ben Johnson won with a time that stunned observers: 9.83 s, a new world record. Lewis, second with 9.93 s, had tied the existing world record, but that was insufficient.
Lewis not only lost the most publicized showdown in track and field in 1987, but  he also lost his father to cancer at age 60.  Lewis placed the gold medal he won for the 100 m in 1984 in his hand to be buried with him. "Don't worry," he told his mother. "I'll get another one." Lewis repeatedly referred to his father as a motivating factor and inspiration. He really was determined to win the Olympic 100 meters gold again, for his father, his object of adulation and worship.
The 100 m final at the 1988 Summer Olympics was truly sensational. It was when the scourge of doping had ravaged athletics. Ben Johnson won in 9.79 s, a new world record, while Lewis set a new American record with 9.92 s. Johnson's timing was almost superhuman. And it soon came to light that he was using banned substances, performance enhancing steroids. Three days later, Johnson tested positive for steroids, and was stripped off his medal.  Carl William Lewis was awarded gold and credited with  a new Olympic record. He had got back the promised 100 meters gold medal once again to replace the one  he had placed in his father's hand.
      Markers, conformism, conventions, can serve as inspiration for what earlier achievers attained.  However, they should never be set as targets  to titrate ones efforts and dreams. Thank you dad, for never punctuating my life with markers, that would limit and restrict my abilities and stop my evolution and attempts to go beyond the narrow definition I would have of myself.

Dr. Deepak Ranade.

The Emotional Climate

The Emotional Climate.

     As I go about my routine, my work, my duties, there remains at the back of my mind, the impact of events, situations, incidents. The infinite skies of my consciousness could at times be sunny, or then, covered with fluffy white clouds, or then again packed with dark storm clouds. These transient condensations and the pressure patterns generated by the uneven heating of earth and water creating high and low pressure belts, all contribute to the "weather". Climate refers to the  cumulative effect of all these variations in the weather patterns.
I am pure awareness, the unaffected  witness, the observer, the clear open infinite skies. Pure consciousness that is infinite and all encompassing, completely beyond the  loco-regional effects of the clouds and the pressure differentials. The mind converges this infinite awareness to a very narrow,local zone, and subjects me to the vagaries and variations of weather and climate, that are fleeting and transient. The clouds, the sun, the storms, the rains, and all climatic conditions, are just a speck of transience, a mere fabric of perception. They all contrive and cast a spell called emotion. Emotions have a very powerful impact, but are founded on such transient mirages. I have to rise above, and transcend these highly fleeting, local weather patterns causing emotional turbulence and realise, I am the infinite open skies on which these kaleidoscopic   formations arbitrarily appear and disappear.  I can  choose, not to let my ego and its emotions condense into clouds, that restrict, obscure and blur my view of  the open skies, because I am the vast open limitless sky. I am, what my mind can never conceive. I am not the content, but the awareness of the container and the content. The mind can only create the illusion of a discrete, non existent, personal  locus of bondage. My perception must rise above the clouds, and become aware of the infinite realm of the universe. Then these clouds become feeble, fleeting and inconspicuous, that can  never affect or limit the infinite eternity of causeless bliss.

Dr. Deepak Ranade.

The Incomplete Will

The Incomplete Will.
( Venturing into the domain of short stories)

The situation was really getting very acrimonious and bitter. The siblings ( two brothers and one sister) were literally up in arms. The frail 90 year old mother was literally trembling. She was yet recovering from the emotional concussion. She never could imagine her own flesh had become so rancid and had decomposed and degenerated to this extent. The fight was over distribution of her assets and properties bequeathed to her by her deceased husband.
The eldest son, aged 62, a confirmed alcoholic had wasted his life. He was never gainfully employed and had a rapidly deteriorating liver, thanks to the gallons of alcohol he had consumed. The daughter 59 had a large family. 4 children, and all were struggling with life. She had recently been diagnosed with diabetes and failing kidneys. The youngest son, 49 was doing well for himself, in the corporate world. The bickering, the allegations, the expletives, filled the nonagenarian's mind with disgust. She cursed herself and uttered a silent prayer to her departed husband. He had really toiled hard, and created all the wealth with his sweat and blood. She wondered, about the plight of his soul on witnessing this vulgar, obscene greed, and lust for his wealth. She quietly wiped a tear, which was unnoticed by her warring offsprings. They were oblivious to her feelings, emotions, and concerns. They were all obsessed with grabbing whatever was at stake.
       Eventually, the solicitor intervened and he gave them an ultimatum. They  had to come to some conclusion, or else, all  the wealth and assets would be donated to charity, as suggested by the anguished mother. He took charge of the situation, and hammered out a reasonable distribution of the properties, both movable and immovable.
There were some contentious matters, but they too were finally resolved. The matriarch was still recovering from the shock of it all. There was an uneasy silence as each of the siblings were licking the emotional wounds they had inflicted on one another. Each one doggedly determined to get his/her slice of the pie.
They were getting ready for signing the document, that had accounted every movable possession of the mother. Jewellery, utensils, linen, wardrobes in  addition to the immovable buildings, farms, stocks, deposits. The mother felt almost naked after this insensitive stripping off of all her material belongings. She was silent and overcome with  helplessness and desolation. As the meeting was about to  disperse, the mother shocked everyone with an unexpected remark.
She said, "Mr Solicitor, this will is still incomplete"
The siblings' eyes inevitably lit up with expectations. Perhaps, there was still some more wealth, that they were unaware of, and hungrily strained their ears for news about further gains that were yet to be  bequeathed.
The Solicitor requested the frail old lady to reveal what she had in mind.
The mother said, " I have heard about the advances made in the domain of healthcare. I have read about live transplants, wherein organs are retrieved from a person, when his heart is still beating. I have lived my life fully and cherish the fondest memories of my erstwhile husband, and times when these children were full of innocence and cheer. Now, i realise that my eldest has a failing liver, my daughter has failing kidneys. All my belongings are distributed, but my body has yet to be partitioned.
To complete my will, please add, that I wish to be put to sleep, and  donate my liver to my eldest son, my kidneys to my daughter. My youngest son is hale and hearty. But he might quarrel and dispute this unequal distribution. To put his mind to rest, please auction both my corneas in the eye bank and give him the proceeds of that deal. I do believe, that only after this wish of mine is fulfilled, can my Will be complete."

Dr. Deepak Ranade

Mid Air Emergency Swissair

Mid Air Emergency At 38000 feet.
 Swissair flight - Mumbai to Zurich, had taken off at 2 am. It was about 3.45 and we were cruising at 38000 feet. We were flying to New York to meet our daughter Soniya.
  There was an announcement on the PA system urgently asking for any Doctor on board. There was a medical emergency on board. I got up from my seat and summoned the support staff. I am a Neurosurgeon and am not accustomed to attending medical emergencies involving the cardio-respiratory systems. I cross my fingers and hope that the situation is salvageable. I'm quickly ushered to the patient, who was slumped in her seat, about 10 rows ahead of my seat.
I noticed that she was an elderly lady, straining to breathe, and was cyanotic. (Bluish discoloration of the lips and finger nails due to decrease oxygen concentration in the blood). I checked her pulse which was fast and thready. She was almost semi conscious, and was not responding to verbal commands. Her breathing was laboured, and there was an audible wheezing sound as she was struggling to breathe.
   I asked her relative, who was anxious, pale faced, and distraught, about her medical history.  He told me, that she occasionally suffered from asthmatic attacks. They however did not have the broncho dilator Aerosol spray.
       I was in a quandary. I was hoping that there might be another Doctor on the flight, who could really have been a help, but no such luck. I was the only one and had to get down to work. I asked the flight attendant to get the emergency drugs box. He obliged and quickly fetched it. It was sealed. I asked him to open it and rummaged through the injectable drugs looking for any broncho dilator. I could not locate the routine salbutamol, aminophylline, adrenaline. Time was fast galloping, as was my own heart. I finally located inj. Hydrocortisone. This steroid was the best, that was available. I located a syringe, and needle, and quickly loaded the drug from the vial. The most dicey part was finding a vein, and getting the needle into the vein. There was some turbulence as I asked the attendant to tightly squeeze the ladies arm in an attempt to engorge the vein in the forearm and the front of the elbow. I chose one that seemed accessible and with a prayer on my lips, I punctured the skin and pushed the tip of the needle in the direction of the vein running parallel to it before giving a sudden jibe from the side to enter the vein. The Almighty took mercy on me as I watched the dark deoxygenated blood swirl into the syringe. I was spot on. I thrust the plunger gradually to deliver about 100 mg of the Hydrocortisone. I was praying to the Lord. The wheezing of the patient was audible to the naked ears. As the drug entered her system, I had asked the attendant to monitor her pulse. So far so good. The last ml of the drug was pushed and I quickly pulled out the syringe.
        The next few minutes were tense. But the wheezing started diminishing, as the bronchospasm was being relieved. After about 7 to 8 minutes, the asthmatic attack was fully aborted and her breathing became almost normal. I heaved a sigh of relief. Later, I was told that as we were flying over Iran, we did not have the option of landing anywhere nearby and w would have had to return back to mumbai, which was a good 2 hours. All is well that ends well. What really is most touching is a message that's religiously sent on occasions such as Doctors Day, by the relatives of the patient. It makes these efforts so worthwhile and the gratitude of the patients kith and kin really is very humbling. Sharing the message, I received today on the occasion of  Doctor's Day.
I requested the patients permission to share his message and he obliged.

Dr. Deepak Ranade.

Dear Dr Ranade,
Happy Doctors Day ...
A big thank you from the bottom of our hearts ....
This is just one day to put in a few words though we thank you every day ....
We always talk so much about you ... the way you saved her on board the Swissair flight on way to US.
God bless you and your loved ones.
Mummy, Urvashi, Capt Ashok Dhawan

Deepak, I remember you and your wife were going to give a surprise to your daughter in US on her engagement .... have the kids married or still enjoying their courtship days.
God bless them.

Ofcourse, you can share on FB.
Please keep our name ... we are really thankful to you and always take your name proudly of a what a “True Doctor” with a heart is.

The Red Shift

The Red Shift.

   In the 1930's, Edwin Hubble discovered that all galaxies have a positive redshift. A red shift is observed due to the stretching of the light waves reaching the observer from an object moving away from him. This is due to the Doppler effect. When light emanating from distant galaxies is spectroscopically analysed, there is a shift in the spectroscopic spectrum towards the red side if the object is moving away, and towards the blue side if the object is moving towards the observer. The red shift observed universally from all the observed galaxies indicated that all galaxies were receding away from the Milky Way. They were racing away from each other. We are part of a dynamic, expanding Universe.
               In trying to solve the differential equations that describe space-time, Einstein needed to add a constant term to avoid having the universe collapse upon itself. This cosmoligical constant was necessary to  balance the attractive force of gravity contributed by all of the matter in the universe. He was looking for something constant in an ever changing universe. He later admitted to this being one of his greatest mistakes in his career. But then, there still remained the enigma of the source of energy  for the universe to continuously expand ? Physicists now hypothesise the existence of a Dark Energy, that fuels this ever accelerating expansion. The dark energy is what actually overcomes the attractive forces of gravity and literally inflates the universe, driving the dots on it further and further away from each other. The universe was getting colder and colder.
     The other day, I visited a relative, who was very close. I quickly realized and experienced this phenomenon of red shift actually applied to relationships too. Everyone seems to be moving apart from everyone. This 'social distancing' is at an emotional level. Let's call it emotional social distancing. Every friend, relative, associate is traveling at his own speed, in his own life. I had made an Einsteinian blunder of assuming an 'emotional' constant. There can never be any such constant in this flux of Life. Instead I soon discovered a dark energy called Ego, which' powers this ever expanding social universe. This dark energy outstrips the benevolent gravitational force of love, compassion, and care. This 'red shift' phenomenon that virtually drives everyone apart is easily noticeable in the rather perfunctory and superficial interactions replacing the warmth and fraternity. There was an obvious thawing of this emotional universe.
       As I observe the successive generations, I can't help notice the increasing 'escape velocity' of every person, racing away from each other. This escape velocity very effectively overcomes the gravitational field of genuine Love  Affection and Empathy. These emotions are fast becoming vestigeal in a very self centered, materialistic life. It might be rather presumptuous and judgemental to label this as degenerative or detrimental. The 'red shift' in relationships and life  is as much a reality as is the red shift seen in an infinitely expanding universe. The speeding apart and away is part of a cosmic design of the physical as also the emotional universe.

Dr. Deepak Ranade.

Neuroplasticity and Rewiring

Neuroplasticity.
Rewiring Neural Networks

He has a very short fuse, that person is too casual in his attitude or then,  she has a very jovial disposition. These are all very characteristic traits by which we categorise people in our lives. They are typical and highly  predictible behavioral patterns.
        Behavior  can be broken down into stereotyped patterns. Such behaviors follow a specific 'fixed action' pattern. They are entirely stimulus based, and are executed in a robotic, mechanical manner. An example is the egg-rolling behavior observed in some birds. When the bird spots an egg-like object in the vicinity of its nest, the bird  begins to roll it towards the nest. Even when  the egg is removed, the bird will continue the behavior until it reaches the nest, without seeming to "realize" that the egg is no longer there. Programmed, embedded software, that ensures a definite behavioral response to a particular stimulus. Slaves of a program, bound by chains of neural networks. Is our response and behaviour a Bio-Mechanic compulsion, entirely involuntary, unfolding at the sub-conscious level?
     Are we controlled by unique neural templates that mediate unique responses. Are we slaves of a program? Do our responses necessarily get defined and  limited by this genetically embedded software? This instinctive response cripples the intellect and makes the subject surrender to a prefixed, predetermined pattern of  behaviour. This typical unique behavioural pattern is the substrate of personality. Personality is a  characteristic way of thinking, feeling, and behaving. Personality includes moods, attitudes, and opinions and is most clearly expressed in interactions with people and situations. It includes behavioral characteristics, both inherent and acquired, that distinguish one person from another.
Can we change these patterns of behavior or are we helplessly trapped in this neuro- hormonal matrix?  Is our behaviour doomed with the curse of incorrigibility? Can we break these patterns of predictibility and press the reset button?  Can  this hard disc be reformatted and  is it possible to rewrite the (ROM) Read Only Memory?
The human brain most certainly  is evolved to rise above this Bio-Mechanic syntax and protocol. It is blessed and fortified with a phenomenon called Neuroplasticity.
Neuroplasticity is the alteration and modification of neural pathways, networks and synapses. This enables the brain to effect synaptic pruning that deletes the neural connections no longer necessary or useful, and strengthens the necessary ones. A rewiring of the neuronal circuits. It perhaps might involve establishing a  connection with a  seat of higher intelligence. Transcending the network mediated Bio-Mechanic responses by reprogramming the perception of the observer. A paradigm shift in the response effected by a fundamental shift  in perception. Instinct is over ridden by a dispassionate conscious deliberation. This transcendence is referred to as opening of the Third Eye in oriental mysticism.
The third eye (also known as the inner eye) is a mystical and esoteric concept referring to a speculative invisible eye which enhances perception beyond ordinary sight.  It provides a third person appraisal of the observed and the observer. It is a witness  of the subject and the object. A non-dual sublime intelligence that pierces the illusion of duality. A perceptive shift that dissolves the personal consciousness into the eternal impersonal consciousness.

Dr Deepak Ranade.

Could have been, Should have been

Could Have Been, Should Have Been.

I woke up in a sweat at 1.30 am. I realised I was hysterically kicking in my sleep, as if freeing myself from the vice like grip on my feet of three to four people. I  got up startled and was relieved to see no one at the foot end of my bed. Rubbing my eyes, I made my way in the dark to the kitchen and had a glass of water to soothen my frayed nerves. It was a weird feeling. Dreams can cause palpitations. My heart was still pounding.
I hobbled along to the drawing room and plonked myself on the sofa. I knew it was not possible to fall asleep again, being gripped with this trepidation and angst that although virtual, affected me like reality . I closed my eyes and tried to recapitulate the nightmare that had scared the wits out of me.
 It then slowly came back as I was perhaps re-entering the domain of somnolence. Initially it was a blur, but then it became clearer, as though I was clearing the windshield off the smokey vapour.
I could see myself sprawled face down on the ground, struggling and lunging forwards, trying to free myself from these 3 to 4 persons who were holding my ankles and pulling me backwards. I was ranting and raving, using every ounce of energy to free myself from my captors. My efforts were all in vain. I was seemingly powerless against these henchmen, who were in no mood to relent. They were dragging me backwards mercilessly, with impunity and arrogance.
I was trying to dig my claws in the muddy surface in an attempt to anchor myself in the least. But it was of no avail. My eyes were covered in mud, obscuring my vision and anyways I could not muster any  courage to look down at my abductors.
       I try to keep calm, and with one hand, I try to clear my eyes. And then, far ahead, I see a beautiful glowing candescence that beckons. The brightness  of which is indescribable. I am being pulled away from this brilliant divine luminiscence by these powerful aggressors. Somewhere, in the direction of the light, I hear a very deep and comforting baritone, that is imploring me to escape from this torrid incarceration. The voice is very soothing and reassuring. I shout out towards that voice for help, almost begging for assistance. But there is no respite.
I finally give up. I let myself slide backwards. The surrender decreases the pain.
I shout out to these toughies to be a bit more gentle.They too are convinced of my compliance and slightly ease the grip on my ankles. After truce has been established, I lie down for a while and my subjugators too take a break.
     I notice, they are masked, and rather heavily built.I assure them, that I will no longer resist their efforts to drag me backwards, but plead with them to unmask and  identify themselves.They reluctantly agree and in a few moments unmask themselves. They are three of them. As soon as the masks are off, I am stunned to see them.
All are my identical clones.  I'm shocked by what I see. I gather my wits and then ask them their names.The first two identify themselves as "Could Have Been Deepak" and "Should Have Been Deepak". The third refuses to tell me his name. I plead with him till he finally relents. He tells me, 'I'm "Hate Deepak". I hate you and will never forgive you for all that you have done to yourself and others."
I'm speechless and shell shocked to discover the identity of these desperadoes. I can't contain my curiosity about the identity of that benevolent voice that was beckoning me. I shout out loudly towards that voice- "Who are you and what is that brilliant light that you are leading me to?" in the hope of getting an answer.
After a few minutes, I am rewarded with an answer in the same comforting baritone. "My name is "Can Be Deepak". And the brilliant light that you see is the Supreme Divinity that also lies at your center but of which you are unaware.

Dr. Deepak Ranade.