Between thoughts and words

  Being kind is often organic and effortless. However, when the kindness is taken for granted, misunderstood as weakness, or exploited for selfish gains, it takes immense efforts to continue being kind. In this blog I want to reflect on kindness and the challenges of being kind.    I had a conversation with a senior professor yesterday. She was very polite and courteous. But she was not kind. I was supposed to travel to her university to teach. But I did not get train ticket reservations. I am a very light sleeper with low back pain issues. So, I prefer to take a day train when traveling because it helps me get a night’s rest after the travel so that I can be ready for the teaching session the next morning. But all trains were fully booked and so I did not get a proper train reservation. I was explaining this to the professor. But she kept insisting that I travel somehow. She suggested that I should travel by night train or I should take a bus. She kept missing the issues...

Jane Goodall, the primatologist, conservationist and educator who died on 01 October 2025, said, “You cannot get through a single day without having an impact on the world around you... What you do makes a difference, and you have to decide what kind of difference you want to make,” I heard her say these words today in a Netflix documentary titled “Famous Last Words”. It is the last interview given by her and released posthumously, as the Famous last words from her to the world. She lived her life by these words and what a great play of destiny that I had to hear these words today.     I was feeling extremely low and sorry for myself in certain ways since afternoon. I had a class to teach this afternoon. The audience were post graduate residents of various medical colleges attending a research methods course. I had to teach two topics very interesting to me, ‘biases in research’ and ‘qualitative research’. I went well prepared and I think I delivered two well-rehearsed lecture...

Unique issues arise when we run outpatient clinics on Sundays. Usually Sundays are holidays for most working people, and they prefer to come to see the doctor. Working sons and daughters also find it convenient to accompany their elderly parents to the clinic. Public transport is relatively free in rural areas on Sundays. Those who work for weekly wages receive it on Saturday and they have dispensable money in hand to bring to the clinic. However, Sundays are also the only day of the week when working people catch up with personal household chores like washing clothes, cleaning the house etc., the day of the most elaborate meat-based meal in the afternoon and the day to catch up on an afternoon siesta or television, friends or family time. So having come to the clinic, everyone wants to leave as soon as possible to catch up with all this. So, Sunday clinics are a recipe for crowds, impatient and irritable.     Yesterday was no exception! When I entered the clinic at 8.40 AM, t...

  “Do something and take it out…I cannot deal with this anymore. It is such a nuisance...” she yelled as she entered the clinic. Mrs. V , a 72 year old lady, lives alone in the nearby village. There have been many ways to start a clinic. Some days start lazy, I sit with a book, or with a notebook reading or writing for some time before the first patient comes. Many days, there is a quiet queue of patients waiting outside and they come in one by one in an orderly manner. It is later in the day that people become impatient and peep inside or barge inside even as the previous patient is still sitting with me. But this was a strange start. Mrs. V stormed inside, yelled and planted herself firmly in the chair in front of me. She is a thin built lady with a slouched back. There are more wrinkles on her face than a piece of dried grapes. She must have been a beautiful woman in her prime, the vestiges of which are lingering on her weatherbeaten skin and face. The frown on her forehead was ...

  Mrs. K walked into the clinic with a broad smile. Today she had cropped hair that was oiled and parted in the middle held by a series of clips. Usually, she has long hair that is braided. She must have gone to a temple to fulfil a prayer to the God and had her head tonsured. The hair must have slowly grown back. Women in this part of the world, especially women Mrs. K’s age (mid 50s), do not cut their hair short for style. It is usually to honor a prayer. Also, the fact that the hair had grown this much told me that I hadn’t seen Mrs. K in more than 3-4 months. I smiled back at her and offered her a seat. As soon as she sat down, she handed her case record notebook to me. When I flipped the pages, I noticed that I had seen her 4 months ago. Along with the notebook she also slid an envelope. When I opened the envelope and pulled out the slip of paper in it, I noticed that it was a lab report from yesterday. Her fasting blood glucose level was more than 200 and post meal blood gluc...

  “Your medicines just don’t work. Are they really medicines, or are you just giving me some dummy pills? My shoulders, hips, knees, feet, everything aches. I don’t know why I keep coming here to see you repeatedly!” Every encounter with Mr. Kuppan (name changed) starts like this. Mr. Kuppan came to us 6 years ago with loss of sensations, numbness and pins and needle sensations over his hands, especially his fingers. Detailed evaluation led to a diagnosis of lepromatous leprosy. We referred him to Central Leprosy Training and Research Institute (CLTRI) in Chengalpet for evaluation and treatment. He completed 9 months of tablets, and it was extended further to complete a full year. Mr. Kuppan had a rather stormy course of treatment. He developed many side effects of the drugs. It took a lot of empathetic hand holding and comfort care to lead him through the treatment. We expected that completing the treatment for leprosy would feel like a great relief and freedom from an illness. Ho...