Dr A S Bhatia
It was the year of 1983, one year before the Prime Minister of India; Indira Gandhi was assassinated by her bodyguards, that the result of 12th class was declared by the Jammu and Kashmir State Board of School Education. I being an average student told my brother Inder jeet, now a bank manager, to check the result. In those days the results were declared by means of a book called Gazette which was made available at all leading stationery shops, the owners of the shops used to disclose the result against a payment of twenty five paisa. The stationery shops used to witness huge rush on the day of declaration of result. About one and half hour later my elder brother came running and shouted from a distance, “Prince, You have secured eighty four percent marks.” This was simply unbelievable for me. Eighty four percent marks and me? I still remember one of my teachers who were standing nearby told my brother to go and get it rechecked. As I looked like a very average student belonging to a family of Government employees and was not taking any private tuition classes of those times and whose father in spite of being an engineer, was more interested in writing poetry and books rather than paying attention to earn money as most of the engineers of that time did. I salute you my dear father. My mother Surinder Kaur, being a teacher was overwhelmed by my result, “Now my Prince will become a Doctor.” She cried with tears rolling down her cheeks. I could see the optimism of pride in her tired eyes. To become a doctor used to be the most sought after career option in those days. Any student walking on the roadside with a white apron on his shoulders was a big attraction for all youngsters of that time. I did not know, whether ,ever I wanted to be a doctor but by virtue of my high merit and the efforts of my mother I could make into the selection list of successful candidates for MBBS course at Government Medical College Jammu.
“Papa, I don’t want to become a doctor.” Were the most alarming words I had ever heard from my son Aakash Deep, a brilliant chess player of National repute. He was declared the highest scorer of the year by Asian chess federation in the year 2016. He was standing in front of me, looking at my face with innocent eyes. I was taken aback. “What? You don’t want to be a doctor? But as I knew you had been working very hard during all previous years to be a doctor.” “Yes Papa. But now I have changed my opinion. Papa Please, I don’t want to be beaten up by mob. I don’t want to work in a society where there is violence against even a dead doctor. I had heard many times from you and mom about violence against doctors, but it is beyond my wild imagination that there can be violence against a dead doctor also. The people will not allow the body of a doctor to be buried with dignity, when the fact is that the doctor laid his life while saving patients suffering from corona pandemic.” I was surprised and almost in a state of delirium. I could not speak a single word and was simply looking towards his eyes which had a rebellion look which I had never seen before. I politely left the room as it was almost midnight.
I went upstairs on the roof top. Cool breeze was blowing and the entire area was beautifully lit by the moon light. The moon was shining with few white clouds in the sky. The midnight hour was very pleasant. Under normal circumstances I would have called Harleen my wife upstairs to enjoy the moon with a glass of good scotch and few old songs of Rajkapoor. But at present my mind was in wilderness. I was struggling with myself. Is it happening with all my younger generation of this great country? I was not worried that my son declined to adopt white coat as his profession, my worry was more than this. Has Thaali and Taali failed to create enthusiasm in youngsters to adopt Medicine as their career , or the most dangerous thing , Are all efforts of our beloved Prime Minister Narendra Modi, are going into vain because of the irresponsible and mad acts of few ill informed people? I could not get the answer.
Back to room, I saw Akaash Deep in deep sleep but his laptop was there on the bed. He slept without switching it off. Out of curiosity I sat in front of laptop and started to explore it. I was shocked to see his downloaded files. There were videos of health care workers being chased and stoned. There were videos of Pakistani doctors being beaten up by the police for asking for Personal Protective Equipment from the administration. There was a video of a young girl who lost her mother, a nurse by profession, and was crying and asking why her mother was sent to treat corona patients without proper Personnel Protective Equipments. Is it sane to send an army to fight enemy without artillery? And worst of all there was a video of Dr Simon Hercules, a neurosurgeon who lost his life in the Indian state of Tamil Nadu after contracting the disease while performing his professional duties. Far from being honoured for his supreme sacrifice, his dead body was denied a proper burial and the ambulance carrying his dead body was stoned and his family and friends were beaten up. What more disturbing was the tweet of someone, “What is the use of banging vessels and lightening candles to pay tribute to medical fraternity, when a doctor who contracts COVID-19 while treating patients isn’t even allowed the dignity of a decent burial? What a shame….” I saw Aakash deep taking a turn, fearing his wrath at after midnight I quietly slipped out of his room with a very disturbed state of mind.
In our bedroom, I saw my wife Dr Harleen Kaur, a senior microbiologist in Government Medical College Jammu, in deep sleep with an expression of extreme professional satisfaction and peace on her glowing face, as she came back from CSIR -IIM, after performing her duties in corona testing laboratory by RT -PCR. I was in extreme Dilemma; on one side was my doctor microbiologist wife who has been regularly on duty in testing corona patients for last two months and on other side my son, who refused to be in a white coat. I left the room to sleep downstairs to follow the rule of isolation for her as she is actively involved as front line corona warriors.
Backtracking all the events in India since the first case was reported in Kerala. I compared the leadership of India with that of other big countries; our leadership did its best to contain the pandemic along with raising the morale of health care workers involved in the fight against COVID-19. It did all those things right from Thaaali and Talli to candle lightening, and most important was bringing an ordinance to treat violence against health care works a serious offence, Then where lies the fault? I was just pondering over these conflicting thoughts that one of my friend forwarded a video where an Indian origin Doctor from Mysore was honoured in United states, This was in sharp contrast with what was happening in Tamil Nadu or UP, Dr Uma Madhusudan the Indian origin doctor was honoured with a parade by fleet of cars in front of her house in South Windsor, Connecticut in recognition of her outstanding work to help victims afflicted with corona virus. The video was enthralling. I got an answer to the restless mind of my son. I forwarded this morale boosting video to my son Aakash. I also got the answer to weaning interest of young generation to adopt medicine as their career; our society needs to be changed. They need to be taught to respect people in white coat. People in white coats are not GOD. Please don’t treat them even as next to HIM, but simply treat persons in white coats as common human beings and let them live with dignity and honour, otherwise I am afraid many of our youngsters will refuse to adopt white coat as their profession as did my son. Society needs to be taught to respect their healthcare workers or as Mirza Galib said, Log badalte nhi “Ghalib”, Be- naqaab hote hain…” Jai Hind.
(The author is Vice President Indian Academy of Biomedical Sciences, India and Professor and Head Department of Biochemistry, Government Medical College Jammu.)
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