Sutures and Wanderlust

Dunkin Donuts Harvard Charles River Hera the cat My lovely flatmate My friend Emily How I could just walk everywhere Boston Accent Harvard A lot of other people like me- who were, like me, between places, careers, spaces in their minds and hearts Diversity The T A hospital virtually around every corner Universities every few blocks This amazing feeling, that anything and everything was possible

"This is a city of shifting light, of changing skies, of sudden vistas. A city so beautiful it breaks the heart again and again."   Alexander Mcall Smith  What do you do with such a beautiful city? Do you love it? Do you fall in love with it?  Or do you just let it break your heart, again and again, regardless of everything? Well, obviously you let it break your heart. More than once; twice or thrice, or more. Not because you love the city. No, not at all. Because beauty demands tribute. What better tribute to give, than a broken heart. Karachi is a city of lights. For me it is the city of lights. The city where I opened my eyes in dark and light, like a newborn in this world. I wasn't born here. But I didn't know anything of the world, until I moved here. It filled me with all the bitterness in the world. And then one day it took all that bitterness away. Like the ebb and flow of bitter, salty, sea water.  At first, everything felt rusted. The air smelle...

I was rotating in anaesthesia. Standing in the preop area, waiting for the next patient for our operation room to arrive, I overheard perhaps one of the most significant conversations of my life. There was a young patient, and her OBGYN. There was some talk about removing her uterus, perhaps a cancer or something else threatening her life. I couldn't really hear. I wasn't paying any attention to it. They were going to remove her uterus to save her life. That much I could tell. And then she asked her doctor a simple question. A simple yet bone chilling question. "meray paas bachadani nahi hoge tw mujh se shaadi kaun karay ga?" (if i don't have a womb, who is going to marry me?) The doctor paused. Smiled reassuringly. "Beta shadi bachadani se thori hoti hai." (Child, it's not the womb one marries) I couldn't stop thinking over these words. The day ended. Our operation room list finished. I changed out of my scrubs. I walked my way back...

Dr Ruth Pfau came to a land, far away from her home in Germany, in 1960. And since then she has spent 50 years of her life,serving people, in a strange land, people who don't speak her language, who don't look like her, and who are shunned by the world for their suffering. But she learned their language, and she accepted them, making the world accept them. On a visit to Mary Adeleide Leprsoy Center, we visited her home as well,which is in fact within the center. There is her room, a shelf with some books and a frame of her parents picture, and chirping birds. She has lived here for the past 50 years. How does one do that? Make home in a strange land. Tirelessly remain in servitude to humanity for so long. I wonder if she ever gets tired. I wonder how has she managed to do what she does. I wonder how did she have the heart to give up a life of ease at such a young age and never regret it. When I think for an answer to these questions, I'...

          Bharatanatyam is a beautiful dance form. Sheema Kermani is one of the few   who practice this art in Pakistan. I had the wonderful opportunity of attending one of her magnificent                        performances and it was absolutely mesmerizing. Not only did it introduce me to such an amazing dance form, it made me understand that dance is a very effective form of communication.  The performance was held at A rts C ouncil Karachi , for two days . It included kathakali as well as bharatan at yam,  except I could only go the day they were performing b haratanatyam .  The dancers wore the most vibrant clothes I had ever seen,  dancing to a music that was  novel for my ears, riveting nonetheless.  What is remarkable is Sheema and her dance troupe's persistence...

Hello everyone. This is my blog 'sutures and wanderlust'. I will begin by stating that these two words signify my greatest and deepest love. Sutures are surgical threads. Here, they are a symbol of surgery. I fell in love with surgery, This is me! the day I stepped into the operation room. More on that later. By now you can tell I'm a doctor. I'm not. I'm just under construction to become a doctor. Yes, I'm a medical student. One thing I'd like you to know about my love for surgery is that I never thought I would love it. Throughout my first year in med school, I expressed my dislike for surgery. I had never seen a surgery until then. And once I was there, in the OR, I realized nothing appealed to me more. Even when everything was not perfect, I just couldn't hate the field because of those awful incidents or people. Strong love, I guess.   As for wanderlust, I believe it was always there, just unrecognized. The idea of travel never appeale...