500 students in a medical college with a attached 200 bed hospital

No-No!
I doubt there are more than a handful of Medical Colleges in India with an intake of >200
Continue in Education thread?
shiv wrote:
The system of medicine we teach in our medical colleges is unsuitable for India. Indian doctors and that includes me are only good for manning Western hospitals. We are not taught the most fundamental things about the Indian ethos and the way Indians see health and disease. Part of the problem is that allopathic medicine is very effective - but does not teach things that are appropriate for India.
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Perhaps this is true I don't know. But medicine has moved on since the 50s, not the system.ShauryaT wrote:Just a question, was not the Indian system designed to fast breed just "good enough" Doctors for the seriously deprived health care system for the India of the 1950's?
Saarji. one elementary questionKarna_A wrote:
My proposal is to have create joint Allopathic/Alternate medicine clinics in US as well as India.
If a patient enters and is found to be more suitable for acupuncture, he should be directed to the suitable doctor in clinic. Same with ayurvedic, homeopathic and allopathy medicines.
Some pains are better handled by acupuncture at very reduced costs and after effects.
Some other diseases are better handled in allopathy.
This will create a healthy sustainable system and hence a healthy country.
Embarrassment means women and girls often wait all day until it is dark to go to the toilet, increasing their chances of infections and exposing them to violence or even snake bites as they seek out remote places.
In 1970, realizing that sewerage facilities will remain out of the reach of the society at large, Sulabh International introduced a pioneer technology twin pourflush latrines and human excreta based Biogas plants. We have constructed in the last 25 years over 650,000 toilet cum bath complexes and 62 human excreta based biogas plants and are maintaining them. I believe this gives an appropriate solution to dispose of and recycle human waste into fertilizer, electricity and working gas.
The World Bank estimates 21% of communicable diseases in India are water related. Of these diseases, diarrhoea alone killed over 700,000 Indians in 1999 (estimated) – over 1,600 deaths each day. The highest mortality from diarrhoea is in children under the age of five, highlighting an urgent need for focused interventions to prevent diarrhoeal disease in this age group.
Despite investments in water and sanitation infrastructure, many low-income communities in India and other developing countries continue to lack access to safe drinking water. Regardless of the initial water quality, widespread unhygienic practices during water collection and storage, poor hand washing and limited access to sanitation facilities perpetuate the transmission of diarrhoea-causing germs through the faecal-oral route.
The Cost of Cooking The Impact of Bio-fuel use on women’s lives in rural India Mitali Sen and Douglas F. Barnes
All over the developing world, the free availability of biofuels from nature makes themthe primary fuel source for domestic purposes. The increasing use of biofuels in regionswith local shortages of trees has a detrimental impact not only on the local environment,but also on women and children’s health and life. Women tend to be the managers ofthese fuels since they are primarily responsible for collecting and using it for cooking andheating water in the household.
...
For India, one of the first studies to recognize the impact of the fuel wood crisis on women was reported by Bina Agarwal (1986), who documents the hours women spend on collecting fuel on a daily basis. She implicates various developmental projects that lead to severe deforestation. As forests were cleared for the expansion of railways,pastures, mining, industries and agriculture, access to wood became scarce. She report sthat in the severely depleted forest areas of Gujarat, women and children spend as much as five hours a day collecting fuel. Reviewing various studies on collection of firewood in India, she found that the distance traveled averaged between 4 to 10 kilometers in search of firewood, depending on the ecological environment.
In forested areas, the collection may have been done once in 4 days, while in depleted areas it was a daily activity. Since wood is the predominant fuel used for cooking and fuel collection is a woman’s responsibility in most of the developing world, the implications for their well being are serious. Apart from the drudgery, the time and effort spent collecting fuel limits their opportunity to spend time on income generating activities or educational and leisure pursuits. More recently studies on traditional stoves using biomass fuels have examined the health impact on women exposed to continuous smoke whilst cooking. The prolonged exposure to respirable suspended particles and carbon monoxide has been found to have severe detrimental effects on the lungs and eyes of anybody in the proximity to such stoves.
Both would be necessary because a nurse practitioner takes more time to train than a PA. If it helps, they don't have to have the Dr. title. Looking at the situation here in the US, people really don't care if their physician is a ARNP or a PA since a typical doctor's office will have all types of practitioners.shiv wrote:I think one needs to understand Indian society before talking of "doctors". The title "doctor" is so respected in Indian society that people like actor Vishnuvardhan who died 3 days ago in Mysore have been conferred with the honorary title "Dr" and is referred to as Dr. Vishnuvardhan.
It is my firm belief that it would be a wrong move to create a "second lower tier" of "Doctors". The plan will fail - Indians will instantly recognise the trick and start shunning the lower tier and soon even students will not join the second tier training courses.
What should be done is to create a second tier of "Nurse practitioners" who are qualified to see and treat a specific range of conditions while being able to recognise what needs to be seen by a specialist doctor. Already, nursing colleges are a dime a dozen. Upgrade them, increase the course length by a year and churn out qualified practitioners.
India's maternal mortality figures are among the highest in the world. The reasons for this are not hard to find.
When a pregnant woman, Vaishali (not her real name), died in a village in Gujarat, we decided to examine the circumstances that led to her death. We asked healthcare professionals and the sarpanch in the village if they could identify the events that caused her death. Not only were they clueless about the cause of Vaishali's death, they also showed no interest in discussing how such deaths could be prevented. Worse, it took them a month to report the death. It was only when we wrote to the district health officer that he ordered an autopsy. But this was two months after Vaishali died. We realised that if we wanted to know the circumstances that led to her death, we would have to speak directly to members of her family.
Vaishali, age 23, was poor, barely literate, and belonged to a tribal community. She was detected to be pregnant during the third month of her pregnancy and came to live with her parents. A month later, an auxiliary nurse midwife prepared an antenatal card to record her physical signs and immunisation status. According to the card, Vaishali had received three antenatal examinations, had her blood group checked and was vaccinated against tetanus. In the last trimester of her pregnancy, she was detected to have mild anaemia for which she was prescribed iron and folic acid.
Her pregnancy had reached full term in November 2007, when she began to have labour pains at 8 pm. Her mother sought help from a local dai trained by a non-government organisation working to reduce maternal mortality in the district. The dai explained the complications associated with a first pregnancy and urged a hospital-based delivery.
The nearest healthcare facility, a cottage hospital, was 15 km from the village. Vaishali's family took her there around 9 pm. The medical officer at the hospital, trained in basic gynaecology, found that the foetus had no heartbeat. Vaishali said that she had felt no foetal movements either. The medical officer thought that she might need a caesarean section and blood transfusions, which could be provided at a bigger hospital, so Vaishali was moved to the district hospital an hour later, only to find that the district hospital had no gynaecologist. The nurse at the hospital directed that Vaishali return to the community health centre (CHC). She was therefore re-admitted to the CHC in the early hours of the morning.
Six hours later, a blood test revealed that she had an uncommon blood group. The blood bank officer suggested that Vaishali be sent to the big city of Surat where she could get the required blood group should transfusions be required. However, she delivered a still-born baby before she could be transferred to the Surat hospital, began to bleed heavily and her blood pressure dropped. Critically ill and in shock, she arrived at the Surat civil hospital at 6 pm and died a few hours later.
Vaishali had sought healthcare from five public hospitals, rural and urban, in a single day but failed to get the medical care that could have saved her life.
Vansada block in which the village is situated has a population 1,50,000, but lacks a blood bank. During an emergency, people have to travel long distances to get blood. We don't think that pregnant women who could bleed heavily during or after childbirth will ever survive in this village.
sanjaykumar wrote:Well, 3000 people die every year falling off Mumbai's suburban trains,
This subject has come up on BRF before. My take on this is as follows.ravi_ku wrote:sanjaykumar wrote:Well, 3000 people die every year falling off Mumbai's suburban trains,is this true or did I need sarcasm 101?
Add begging to that sir.sanjaykumar wrote: In which case terrorism is a cause Indians choose to value, unlike malnutrition, low literacy, gender inequality, open defecation ( are you reading and getting ideas Arundhoti?)
In India, poverty is presently estimated by fixing a poverty line based on a differentiated calorie-norm. A task force of the Planning Commission in 1979 defined the poverty line as that per capita expenditure at which the average per capita per day calorie intake was 2400 calories in rural areas and 2100 calories in urban areas. Average per capita expenditures incurred by that population group in each State which consumed these quantities of calories, as per the 1973-74 survey of NSSO, were used as the poverty lines.
Based on the observed consumer behaviour in 1973-74, the poverty lines arrived at were Rs. 49.09 per capita per month in rural areas and Rs. 56.64 per capita per month in urban areas. These poverty lines were updated for the following years by simply accounting for changes in consumer price indices. Thus, the all-India poverty lines updated for 2004-05 were Rs. 356.30 in rural areas and Rs. 538.60 in urban areas, per capita per month. The shares of population below these poverty lines (the head count ratios; HCR) were estimated to be 28.7 per cent in rural areas and 25.9 per cent in urban areas.
These estimates of poverty threw up a number of controversies. First, it was argued that the poverty lines were extremely low in levels. An amount of Rs. 356.30 per month per person amounted to just Rs. 11.90 per day in rural areas, which was at best a destitute income. The fact that about one-fourth of India’s population did not incur even this level of expenditure was in itself instructive.
The Tendulkar Committee has reviewed the present methodology for measuring poverty and suggested drastic changes for the future. It has recommended the abandoning of the calorie-norm for estimating the poverty line. Instead, the committee has recommended a new method where the present all-India urban poverty line is taken as the basis for estimating every other poverty line in the country. With the urban poverty line as the basis, the parity levels at the State-level for rural and urban areas are to be separately estimated using a typical purchasing power parity (PPP) method. Thus, the new State-level rural and urban poverty lines are to be at those levels at which the average national urban consumption levels can be attained.
From the TribunePost-harvest technology has potential to create rural industries. In India, where 80 percent of people live in the villages and 70 percent depend on agriculture have experienced that the process of industrialization has shifted the food, feed and fibre industries to urban areas. This process has resulted in capital drain from rural to urban areas, decreased employment opportunities in the rural areas, balance of trade in favour of urban sector and mismatched growth in economy and standard of living including the gap between rural and urban people.
<snip>
Due to old and outdated method of paddy milling, improper and inefficient methods of storage of paddy, rice, transport and handling we lose about nine percent of production. It is estimated that ten percent of food grains produced in India are lost in processing and storage. The traditional methods of storage are responsible for about six percent losses. If better methods of processing and storage are adopted, the losses could be reduced to 2 to 3 percent and more food grains could be available to the people. It is estimated that 10-15 percent of horticultural crop such as vegetables and fruits perish due to lack of proper methods of processing and storing.
FloriculturePackaging: In our country mostly gunny bags, bamboo baskets and wooden crates lined with newspaper sheets are used for packing which imparts a little easiness of transportation and handling. Sometimes inedible plant parts are also transported like pods, stem etc. which could be used as fodder for animals. In foreign countries, the vegetables are cleaned, trimmed, pre-treated, pre-cooled and packed in bags of transparent film, trays or cartons overwrapped with transparent film, etc. Before despatch it is quite important to improve packaging material and it should be less expensive also.
Transportation: The system mainly adapted in India is road transportation to supply vegetable produce resulting in a lot of damage. The poor road conditions coupled with speedy driving also cause much harm to the produce. The Railways plays a great role in long-distance transportation of vegetables and are more efficient in the use of energy than road transport. The use of railway wagons will continue to be difficult unless there is a comprehensive redesigning of the wagons to carry more perishable produce across the country. Air transport has been adopted with success, especially in the hill regions of India and for exports. Overall, it is necessary to modify the long-distance transport vehicles by introducing more ventilation, reducing temperature, increasing relative humidity , improving loading and unloading systems.
According to 1995 world statistics, India has 34,000 hectares under flowers and ranks second to China (60,000 hectares) with more than 15 per cent of the total world area of 2.23 lakh hectares. In India, Karnataka has the highest area (14,253 ha) followed by Tamil Nadu 8,384 ha), Maharashtra (4,500 ha) and West Bengal (3,200 ha).
Despite the plus points, India’s performance in the global floriculture market is miserable because of the following bottlenecks:
— Inadequate infrastructure.
— Lack of appropriate plant material.
— Lack of good production technology.
— Non-availability of basic inputs.
— Lack of suitable market surveys and relative information.
— Lack of sale promotion activities.
— Absence of quality control mechanism.
— Lack of coordination between government and floricultural industry.
— Absence of cold chain.
— Exorbitant air freight
— Unorganised domestic market and lack of established marketing channels.
— High import duty on imported inputs.
— Unstreamlined export-import policy.
— Variety patenting.
— Lack of adequate trained personnel.
— Strict lending norms by banks and other financial institutes.
sanjaykumar wrote:
If you wish I can make explicit comparisons to the Japanese and how their sidewalks may be cleaner to eat from than many dhabas.
In fact if more Indians serviced latrines it would be a great idea. Arundohti alone is not enough. Her snooty pretentiousness is mirrored by others who might talk of servicing latrines and yet act like Arundhoti in not lifting a finger to service latrines themselves - or even acknowledge that the activity is as important for Indians to do as perhaps the Japanese know it to be. But I know little of Japan other than what I am told by the experts.Arundhoti's admirable sense of outrage may be better employed in the service of latrines than Kashmir.
There is remarkably little data that I could find about this. Reservation of course is not poverty based. It is "caste based" and recent statements by the Supreme Court have been asking that reservation be based on poverty and not on caste.Airavat wrote: 60 years of reservation have kept the SC/ST population at the same level of poverty. And in those 60 years the GOI was run mostly by the INC and it's latter day offshoot, the Congress(I). One reason why the SC are increasingly voting for the BSP.
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I found another paper with the following information:We examine the impact of political reservation for disadvantaged minority groups on poverty.
To address the concern that political reservation is endogenous in the relationship between poverty
and reservation, we take advantage of the state-time variation in reservation in state legislative
assemblies in India that arises from national policies that cause reservations to be revised and the
time lags with which the revised reservations are implemented due to the timing of state elections.
Using data on sixteen major Indian states for the period 1960-1992, we find that increasing the
share of seats reserved for Scheduled Tribes significantly reduces poverty while increasing the share
of seats reserved for Scheduled Castes has no impact on poverty. Political reservation for Scheduled
Tribes has a greater effect on rural poverty than urban poverty, and appears to benefit people near
the poverty line as well as those far below it.
Both papers say that the poorest stay poor, but the results are better among the more wealthy .The majority of the Scheduled Castes and Scheduled Tribes are
agricultural labourers. Because of economic compulsions, their children
have to go to work when they should be in schools. Children who
labour, lose education and therefore employment opportunities when
they are adults. Without the means of income for want of education,
they in turn may continue to send their children to work. It strengthens
the vicious circle of poverty and this has not been addressed by ‘job
reservation’.
<snip>
In short, the impact of reservation policies is visible in the political
culture where the SCs the STs and the OBCs have emerged as new
corporate identities with constitutional protection for representation
and empowerment. But it has not contributed towards any qualitative
shift in the lives of the poorer sections of these communities, where
poverty is getting perpetuated in overwhelming numbers despite
decades of freedom and democracy, planning and reservations.
sanjaykumar wrote:
I was one of the first to ('eloquently') point out the penchant for Indians (street Indians as opposed to the 'better' kind) to stick their fingers in their noses and crotches.
But the paper clearly states that its aim was not to asses the outcome on wealth/povertyThis paper provides evidence that increased political representation for disadvantaged mi-
norities can allow them greater influence on policy-making. I show that political reservation for
scheduled castes and scheduled tribes in India has, in part, been responsible for the observed rise
in targeted redistribution towards these groups over the last half-century.
Linking to poisoned research conducted by foreign universities who are adept at social engineering (dividing people and making them fight based on perceived differences or historical slights) and then trying to understand indian social conditions is waste of time.shiv wrote:One more paper on what effect, if any, reservation has
http://www.econ.yale.edu/~rp269/website ... ad_024.pdfBut the paper clearly states that its aim was not to asses the outcome on wealth/povertyThis paper provides evidence that increased political representation for disadvantaged mi-
norities can allow them greater influence on policy-making. I show that political reservation for
scheduled castes and scheduled tribes in India has, in part, been responsible for the observed rise
in targeted redistribution towards these groups over the last half-century.
Very little research seems to have been done on the actual outcome of a reservation policy. But all that I have read so far is that political empowerment occurs, but the poorest of any group remain poor.
This inevitably leads back to the question - are Indians so stupid that they don't do their own research? I have asked this question before and it leads to increasingly angry answers that talk of colonized minds and anti-Indian foreigners.Avinash R wrote:Linking to poisoned research conducted by foreign universities
This is correct. India is a nation full of minorities. It pays to be a minority and that is why uniting to form a single bloc is always tripped up by the temptation to play a minority card. The least trouble arises in India when the maximum number of minority groups is happy. The route to success and happiness in India is to belong to a special interest group. If you try to unite two or three groups it will be advantageous for some special interest sub group from all the groups to split away and blackmail the larger group so they get more attention.JwalaMukhi wrote:One way to understand India is to see that it is full of minorities (not just narrowly defined religious lines). But the powers that be; would like to delude that defining minorities along religious lines in India, pays and pays handsomely.
Alternately, since everyone belongs to minority based on various criteria; the usage of term 'minority' is complete hogwash in Indian context. Well, till most Indians realize this fast one being pulled on them, there is hay to be made while the sun shines by peddling 'minority' based on religious lines.
Well the poisoned data suggests the cat they are trying to help is actually a camel and the super brainy macaultiyes rush to feed it grass and then whine why wont the damn camel eat it. Then they blame the indian genes of the camel for being responsible in their failure to feed and 'uplift' it.shiv wrote:This inevitably leads back to the question - are Indians so stupid that they don't do their own research? I have asked this question before and it leads to increasingly angry answers that talk of colonized minds and anti-Indian foreigners.
So true harvard's nazi professor micheal witzel and his buddy steve farmer will support you on this.shiv wrote:But hey the minds of researchers abroad are not colonized no? The minds of people abroad are free. They do not miss the big picture about India because they live outside?
Well speaking in your language, yes pakistan is innocent terrorist nation. It does best what the brahmins and banias have taught them. It's foreign propaganda that india is an equal to pakistan, how can that be so when pakistan is 100% sharia compliant state while india remains a kafir state. I think it's your brahmin genes which makes you relate to pakistan. Dont ask me what these genes are, ask the foreign researchers who call hinduism as brahminism, they will teach you all that is needed to be learnt.shiv wrote:The only other thread in which there is so much foreign propaganda identified against an innocent and pure nation is the Pakistan thread.![]()
Does this sound like an equal equal? Let's not have any more denial.
Perhaps this is what makes the world go round....Leon Uris had made the same comment about Arab society in his novel "the Haj"In an eerie way India too operates on the principle o "Me against my brother. Me and my brother against my neighbor. All of us against the people in the next street"
This is very personal story. The entire situation of this story was random, accidental, unpremeditated and unique. It took place many years ago and it touched no one else but me. It did not leave any physical emotional financial or social imprint on me and yet I have never been able to forget this incident. Let me now narrate it without further ado.
On 26th January 1968 I was in a holiday mood. I had just been ordered to report to the Institute of Aviation Medicine for a high performance medical test on 29 Jan 68. Implication of this order was clear: I was being considered for active flying in a high performance aircraft. Since I had just put on the rank of a wing commander, it also meant that I was being considered for the command of a squadron equipped with either MiG 21 or Su 7. The feel-good feeling that came over me was therefore justified. 26th January fell on a Friday in 1968. That gave me a long weekend before the medical test. My ticket from Delhi to Bangalore was booked. Every thing was fine and dandy. My three kids at that time were at their 8, 6 and 4 year stage. They wanted to go and see the R Day Parade from the stands on Rajpath. I had no reason to say no. Passes were obtained and at first light we drove from our Subroto Park residence to the earmarked parking lot near Akbar Road. Distance from the parking lot to the allocated stand was long, and the queue that we were forced into was serpentine and slow. By the time the family reached the allocated stand, we could garner only three seats for us five. The little ones of course did not mind the cuddly squeeze on the bitterly cold morning.
The parade was spectacular as usual. Helicopters showered rose petals from the sky. Troops and military bands marched with heads held high. The Camel Corps made an appearance. Tanks and Guns rolled by. Antiaircraft missiles registered their presence. School children marched by. Some other school children danced and performed acrobatics. Folk dancers in shiny and colourful costumes presented themselves. Tableaux depicting themes from various states and central government departments rolled by on wheeled trailers. My eldest daughter Sutapa, all of eight years of age, enjoyed the show sitting primly between her parents. Her younger siblings had to make do with parental knees as their seats. Sukanya, the second girl, sat on her mother’s lap while Mishti, the little one sat on my knee. She was a tiny little thing a month over her fourth birthday. All of a sudden there was a commotion. Some one spotted the first of the jet aircraft approaching the saluting base and pointed to his left. Within seconds, every one stood up on their feet shutting out the view for the little children on our laps. Sukanya, for ever the claustrophobic, turned around and grasped her mother. Mishti wailed – Baba pick me up! I stood up on my seat grasping Mishti under her armpits. In the process my elbows went out poking a gent on my left and blocking the view of a young boy standing behind me on my right. Their reactions were predictable; they just pushed my elbows down. Unfortunately for me, with the weight of the child slung from my arms and with an unsure footing for my own balance on my perch, my back bent without my control. There was a nasty crrrrick sound from my spine. I just collapsed on the stand with the child still resting on my chest. Pain shot through my body. I discovered that I just could not move any further.
As the first formation of aircraft went by and the spectators switched their attention to the next block approaching us, one person in front of me saw me and understood my problem; perhaps the agitated gesticulation by my wife Leena drew his attention. He picked the child up and tried to help me to my feet. I am a bit fuzzy even now about what exactly happened to me at that time. I could not stand up. I remained slumped on my seat till the flypast ended and the crowd started going home. I could not walk on my own and I certainly could not drive the car back. Some one must have brought us home and had the car retrieved. I went straight to bed and stayed there groaning with pain. Friday the 26th rolled by and then the Saturday. I started becoming increasingly concerned about my impending trip to Bangalore.
On the evening of the Saturday Savitri, the house maid, made an appearance at my door. She was aware of my condition and was keen to offer some help. ‘My Mard is a very good remover of pain’, she informed us. Would we be interested in his ministration? I was in two minds. On the one hand I was suffering from excruciating pain and was almost immobile. I needed to go to Bangalore on the following day and I did not know how I could perform the journey. On the other hand I was reluctant to let a village bumpkin, perhaps a quack, play around with my painful body without a proper doctors say so. Leena was in a dilemma as well. She wanted me to get well soon and any help would be welcome. However, we had never even set our eyes on this Mard of Saviti. Could we trust this village lad loose on my body with no certification other than from his wife? Neither of us knew really what to do. ‘He is very good at this job saheb’, Savitri persisted. ‘My mother in law was a very good masseur too. Every one in the village used to praise her. She has taught her son very carefully and now he is very good too’. Savitri seemed very confident of her Mard. I was without any clear cut medical plan for my aching body. The need to get back to my feet and pass the high performance medical test just two day away was too great. I gave in. OK, I said, send him in. But Savitri’s Mard was not at hand. ‘I will go home and bring him tomorrow morning’, said Savitri. I passed another very painful night, unable even to toss and turn.
Early on Sunday morning Savitri came with a young man in tow. Clad in a clean shirt and a pair of trousers, he looked barely over twenty two or twenty three years of age. His name, he said, was Pishtumlal. He was from Garhwal. His village was close to the Indo Tibetan border town of Kalpa. In Garhwali language Pishtumlal meant a mischievous and naughty child, but this young man with a bright smile looked dependable and trustworthy. His eyes were bright and he moved with a deliberate confidence. ‘OK’ I said. ‘Go ahead and start.
Pishtumlal closed the doors and windows and drew the curtains. He then made me strip down to my underclothes and lie face down on the bed. For me this was sheer torture. Even though an electric heater was on, I felt cold without clothes and even shivering caused intense pain. Slowly Pishtumlal got to work on my back. Every touch brought in waves of pain. Dipping his fingers into a small bowl of warm oil he continued to work on my arms and legs. While his fingers were busy on my body, he set up an incessant chatter that needed no response from my side. Slowly my muscles became warm and I grew drowsy, but the pain down my spine showed no signs of abating. I pride myself for my patience and forbearance. That morning however I began to be wary of the proceedings. One hour went by and then a second but my pain along the spine was as severe as ever.
At long last he stopped. I tried to decide whether my pain had decreased even marginally and was unable feel happy with the result. While I was feeling miserable and sorry for myself, Pishtumlal got hold of a straw mat and spread it on the ground. He then asked me to get up from the bed and lie down on the mat facing the floor. I found it difficult to get up. He came close to me and lifted me gently. The effort took my breath away. He then put me down on the mat and started rearranging the position of my arms and legs as I lay breathless. I could take it no longer. ‘Bus karo Pishtumlal; bahut ho gaya. Our sahaa nahi jaataa!’ I cried out. Pishtumlal paid no attention to my cries. He stood astride my prone body, put his arms below my arm pits, pulled me up and shook me like a piece of rag. Pain shot through my whole body and I almost passed out. The loud cry that rent the air must have been frightening because Leena came running from outside and pushed the door open. Savitri followed close behind her. Pishtumlal put me back on the mat gently and stood away. I lay limply on the floor wondering what I should do next. Slowly I realized that Pishtumlal was asking me to sit up. ‘It is alright saab, you have become bilkul theek’. Had the guy gone mad? I had no strength left to take any more pain. Leena crouched beside me, put her hand gently on my shoulder and said ‘he is asking you to sit up’. Very reluctantly I moved my arms to a new position to push myself up.
All of a sudden the world around me changed! There was no pain! I pushed myself up and sat up. A sense of wellbeing enveloped me. The room was warm and my body felt relaxed. I jumped up on my feet and pulled my clothed on. I wanted to hug that fellow tight. I wondered how I could express the gratitude that welled inside me. I pulled my purse out of my pocket and pulled out all the money I had in there. It was about forty rupees and it could be called quite a lot of money in those days. I smiled at Pishtumlal, thanked him, said that I felt wonderful and extended my arm with the notes in my palm. Pishtumlal stepped back, folded his hands and said ‘No Saab. I cannot accept any money. This is my mother’s order. She has given me her guru given vidya. This vidya is to be used only to remove pain from the world and to bring happiness to people. If I use it to earn money and fill my stomach then that will be a paap karma.’ I was stunned. I could only hold his folded hands and thank him over and over again. That evening I flew to Bangalore and returned a few days later with an A1G1* - fit for high performance aircraft rating.
As I write this tale to day, some forty odd years after the event, I wonder as to how much skill knowledge and ability lies buried in our society, passed on by our culture, running in deep subterranean streams, unrecognized and unsung. I lost touch with Pishtumlal soon after this incident; I was given the command of 47 Squadron with MiG 21aircraft and I moved away. I however wonder if the ever changing values of our society have allowed Pishtumlal to nurture his talents and skills and pass it on to a successor. This is a part of our heritage. Are we protecting it? Or are we carelessly letting it wither away?
Thanks. That says it all. You are a true Indic Nationalist Patriot. Timeless Bharatiya wisdom courses though you and flows out from your words.Avinash R wrote:I think it's your brahmin genes which makes you..