Pho-etry Post #1 – Holy Summer Rain

The clouds were raining, on the Hills of Darjeeling,
Hoped our long journey would not be in vain.
Walked through the gates, of a Buddhist Monastery,
Jackets soaked, by the Holy Summer Rain.

The Hall was tall and dark, but filled with little monks,
Whose bone-chilling chants, brought peace to our soul.
In dialects unknown, they showered their teachings,
We failed to comprehend, but still felt whole.

Slowly, we took our leave, the Heaven’s stopped pouring,
The Sun emerged glowing, the Night’s bright bane.
We basked in the glory of this surreal sight,
The ethereal aftermath, of Holy Summer Rain.

– Photo & Poem by Kavin

Pani Puri

‘Small, delicate and brittle,

Yet as complex as a riddle.

Towards your mouth it’s rising,

and boy it looks enticing!’

I also have a bit of a flair for poetry, nothing deep and profound, just simple wordplay. Hope you guys enjoy whatever tidbits I share on this blog 🙂

Every poem I publish is my work exclusively unless stated otherwise.

*Pani Puri is a famous Indian fast-food item.

No Grey’s Anatomy, this

Dissection at last!

After Medical School started 3 weeks ago, we’ve been flooded with anticipation over when we would start dissection in the Anatomy Hall. Finally we entered the hall on a bright Monday morning, sharp at 8:00 am. Shortly after we seated ourselves (10-12 to a single dissection table), lab attenders wheeled in a couple of carts containing about 4 Cadavers stacked up on top of each other! They promptly deposited 1 on each table and we were jolted to reality. So much for TV shows like ‘House MD‘ and ‘Grey’s Anatomy‘, this was it. This dried and pungent smelling cadaver lying down before us was what we had to deal with before we could entertain our dreams of fancy operating theatres and high-profile patients. However, this same cadaver proves to be the most invaluable tool for a medical student’s education. You can’t get more hands-on than this.

So our teacher started dissecting the chest portion of the cadaver by removing the Superficial Fascia to reveal bits and pieces of fat (which by the way looks like melted CHEESE! Never eating that again.) and some of the underlying muscles. It was a pretty unreal experience, being able to stand right next to a Doctor, who with the use of a scalpel and a pair of wickedly curved scissors, was able to turn an ordinary cadaver into a Mecca of information.

My favorite part from today’s experience was undoubtedly our view of the Muscle fibres of the Pectoralis Major. Recollect an image of the inside of a perfectly cooked steak as seen on Masterchef Australia and now imagine that same textural pattern and richness inside your body as a working muscle. The arrangement of fibres was absolute PERFECTION and it was thoroughly amazing to observe something like that from 2 feet away.

Looking forward to tomorrow’s session, Good Night!

That Accent Though

My mom was practicing architecture in Los Angeles, California, right when my dad got accepted into a Cardiology Fellowship program at Chicago’s Michael Reese Hospital. Resulting in my mom moving with him to Chicago, and sometime later I was born,

So by no fault of my own, I was born in Chicago, Illinois, USA.

I did my schooling up to 6th grade in America and naturally developed an American accent.

When I moved to India in 7th grade, I was hit by a torrential wave of Tamil and English in a thick Indian accent. Now, coming from America, where English is their first language, I could have chosen to come off as all high and mighty and condescend the Indian English.

But no, just like how I developed an American accent by no fault of my own, these people had an Indian accent by no fault of their own. What right did I have to look down upon these people just for the way they spoke?

But since I moved here nearly 6 years ago, people have bombarded me with jokes and insults about my way of speaking English. So much so that I’ve developed a sort of stutter. I get caught between subconsciously speaking with my American accent, and consciously trying to speak with an Indian accent and I’ve developed a minor stutter in my speech which is starting to really concern me.

Tamil is the native language of almost everyone here in Chennai, and it’s my mother tongue as well. I went for a couple of Tamil classes in Chicago and so I’m able to stumble my way through basic sentences.

I actually love speaking in Tamil. I don’t know why, maybe because it’s a much more passionate language than English?

My Tamil is pretty bad…… but for an Indian-American, it’s pretty good! Yet people mock the way I speak and go as far as telling me NOT to speak in Tamil. These are the same people who’s English I find absolutely hilarious, yet I don’t mock them.

I wish that people would grow up and realize that language and accent don’t matter. Listening to someone speak in a different accent is actually a privilege as it opens you up to a new perspective on how people communicate.

Anyways, I’ve got a test on Neurology and Angiology tomorrow. Ciao and thank you for listening to me vent!

Not Good Enough

I started Medical School about 15 days ago.

It’s ben go-go-go right from day 1. We have two hours of Anatomy Dissection smack at 8:00 am followed by three hours of continuous theory lectures in the subjects of Anatomy, Physiology and Biochemistry. An hour’s lunch break follows from 1:00 – 2:00 p.m. and classes resume with Laboratory Practicals from 2:00 – 4:00 pm. It is mind-numbing indeed. The amount of information that we receive everyday is astonishing.

I’m not complaining though. This is what I signed up for, this is what I’ve been dreaming of for a while now. It’s finally here and I’m happy like I’ve never been before. 3 hours of non-stop lectures seems like a long time to sit on your butt without getting up, everyday. I enjoy it however, honestly, I enjoy it. If I didn’t, then I wouldn’t be spending what little free time I have talking to you guys 🙂

I’ll continue to brief you on my Med School travails as I walk along this path, but let me cut to the point of the above photograph.

Medical School has High Standards. I mean ANNOYINGLY high.

The photograph shown above is my answer to a 5-mark question asking us to describe the Clavicle. I drew a diagram, added 10 labels, and then listed exactly 10 points about the Clavicle’s pecularities, along with another 6 points on the insertion and origin of various muscles.

What do I get? My teacher smiles and says that I’ve done a good job, but my answer is good enough only for a score of 2.5/5.

*insert blank, uncomprehending expression on face*

However, I guess it’s valid considering that a score of 70/100 is considered REALLY good in College.

It’s going to take some time adjusting from school to a professional course, especially one as extensive and demanding as medicine, but I’m looking forward to this challenge like never before.

The Beginning

Greetings blogging world, My name is Kavin and I’m a 17-year old Indian-American, born in Chicago. I moved to Chennai, India in 7th grade and have been blessed with another perspective on life and its nuances. Over the course of this blog, I’ll be sharing this different perspective with you, while I attend Medical School here in Chennai.

Warning:- Game of Thrones, Chelsea FC, Chicago Bulls, and other TV shows and movies will frequently pop up in my blog. You will not be bored.