Hey friends, it’s been such a long time
since I have written something interesting and worthwhile. I guess I was facing
a writer’s block (if I may take the liberty of calling myself a ‘Writer’). I just
couldn’t think of anything that would make me go like “Yeah, I want to write
about this”. Today, I am standing at a threshold where I will have to think of 'Moving on'. When we hear the term –“Move On”, we usually associate it with the
end a relationship, majorly a romantic one and the process of feeling better
and going on with the rest of the life.
Nearing to the end of term in my fellowship
in the hospital that I work in, I realized the fact that a lot will be changing
in my life and there has been a rush of emotions in my mind, some reasonable,
some utterly stupid, but yeah, they are all there jumbling up my head. And so I
thought of sharing them here. I have started thinking of how I would miss
getting up early every morning, looking forward to a great day, wanting to make
difference in lives of so many people, getting ready for work with constant
plans in my mind about the surgeries that would have been planned for the day,
the discussions that I would have and the queries that I would ask my teacher
and mentor. Picking up my lunch-box, sitting in my car with the radio jamming
on its loudest volume and repeatedly enjoying some of my favorite songs and
travelling on the same route for more than a year, I wondered if I would ever
get a chance to ride on the same route and same time, would I be able to see
those same cars and bikes that I see daily when I travel on the road, it’s like
I had formed some cosmic connection with them, I wouldn’t know who rode on
them, but I would see them each and every day. Reaching the hospital, I would
miss smile on the face of the traffic police wearing his aviators and standing
at the end of the subway, sometimes helping me with my parking. I would really
miss the security guard smiling at me each day and greeting me with ‘Good
Morning’ and making me believe that a great day is about to start. I would miss
reaching the department and getting greeted by the girls working up the
patients for the surgery and briefing me about the situation so far, followed
by me working up the patients with an anticipation a hundred things that could
go wrong in the surgery and taking due precautions to prevent each one of them,
as they say “Prepare for the worst and Hope for the best”. I would miss assisting
and performing surgeries, seeing patient after patient and so on and so forth. Of
all, the most important thing that I would miss would be the constant care and
guidance from my teacher at each and every step that I took, holding my hand
where I stumbled upon and reprimanding me when I went vain. I would miss that
cushion to fall on having him to my rescue each time, I would miss being able
to be adventurous, being able to think out of the box and being able to be fine
with making mistakes having him by my side to correct them. It brought me to a
frightful reality that henceforth I will have to be all by myself having to
bear the consequence of each and every decision that I took. I realized, that
my slit-lamp wouldn’t be my own anymore, or my writing pad wouldn’t be mine
anymore, or that little table at the corner of which I keep my bags wouldn’t be
mine anymore (Well, at least until I find
another writing pad to sign on and another slit-lamp to sit on). I would cease
to belong to that place anymore. It came as a pang to me, realizing that I was
in a way breaking up with my hospital. It sounds funny doesn’t it, but it’s
actually so true. I was a special part of the life of the hospital for a year
and now, I would be just another person visiting the building. But as they say,
all good things come to an end and you have to ‘Move On’
This is not the first time that I have had
this feeling in my life. I had it when I was leaving my home for the first time
to go to med-school at a hostel in Nagpur when I was just 17 year old, and I felt
it again, when I was leaving my hostel after living there for five years to
come back home. It’s very strange that I was feeling pain for accepting and
leaving the same things in five years, only their places in my life had
changed. I felt that pain again when I was getting married, as I was leaving
more than just my home this time. Then when I left my job in Mumbai after
finishing my post-grad after three long years, I felt the same and the same
when I came back home to my parents. Each
time although it was excruciating to leave something behind, there was always
this, another thing that I was looking forward to. Like I was looking forward
to studying in the med-school and living all by my own at the hostel and may I say
I did live up to it completely and totally. And when I was leaving the hostel I
was looking forward to the much missed comforts of home and warmth of my
family, and having my parents around for those important moments of life. When I
moved to Mumbai, apart from looking at the great work opportunities at work and
making it big as an Ophthalmologist, I was also looking forward to finding and
living my life with the love of my life. When I came back home, I was seeking
and happened to enjoy the newly found wings and the will to fly.
Even this time, although I feel shattered
of having to leave the job that I love and the people that I work with, who are
just like a family to me, I know I am strong enough to put back those broken
pieces of my heart together and will eventually be able to “Move on”. I know I will
look forward to a new hospital, and making my name and changing lives there. I know
I will get the opportunity to get out of the shadows of my teacher and shine in
my own light ( and of course, it’s on my own then, if I make it or break it- I
have a feeling that I will make it ). I will be chasing my dreams just like
that little girl in the garden chasing the butterflies. And even though I may
stumble a few steps I am sure I will move on. Although I get emotional at
times, I get too attached each and every time, I still have a heart made of
pliable and elastic muscle (literally) that just springs back to life and helps
me ‘Move on’. And I am sure it’s not just me, but each one of us out there, who
have always had these things and people and situations that come so close to
our hearts that would make us wonder if we could ever live without them, but
miraculously, we always manage to shrug our shoulders, shed our sorrows,
detangle the chords of our attachments and say to ourselves- “It’s Time to Move
On...”
