Mandatory Rural Service - a Conundrum

A lot of furore has been created over the health ministry’s proposal to make a year’s rural service mandatory , post internship for the award of the MBBS degree. Understandably so , many might say – yet in spite of much introspection and soul searching , I have personally not been able to decide which way to put my weight . Claims on both sides have some iron clad points in favour of them. The solutions are not that simple , as the roots go deeper than most people realize , or if they do realize , then do not like to get their hands messy probing into such depth.
As a young medico , who has witnessed the struggles of the system , I still get more than the odd pang of guilt at the overwhelming shambles in which the health care setup of the country lies (yeah ! yeah ! Call me humbug !) . Lets examine in detail both sides of the coin and then attempt to offer possible solutions.

THE HEALTH SETUP & MAGNITUDE OF THE PROBLEM

At the outset let us examine the care setup in the country – to state that it is pitiful would an understatement. Why this should be so in spite of 60 years of democracy and , as we would be led to believe , a booming economy , is beyond the scope of this discussion. Dedicated volumes could be written on the same. Let it suffice for the moment that the population is bursting at the seams , basic sanitation is conspicuous by its absence , and the captains of the men of death – the likes of Messers Tuberculosis and Malaria are remarshalling their forces with hitherto unseen hostility. Add to it India’s overwhelming participation in the propagation of global pandemics like HIV and infectious hepatitis. There is a shocking absence of basic obstetric care with unacceptable rates of maternal and infant mortality even in the urban centers. The brunt of this is borne in the rural areas, from where, a sizeable number of figures do not even reach the health statistician’s desk.
The infrastructure in the primary health setup is grossly inadequate with the staff lacking proper training and experience. Feeding off this lack in trained health care personnel and the prevalent socio-cultural superstitions and taboos , quacks abound in multitudes and indulge in downright barbaric criminal practices. Back in undergraduate days , our professors would come up with tales witnessed by them in the rural setup such as administration of intravenous milk , use of sharpened metallic objects as abortifacients and so on. Is there anything to suggest that such practices are still not prevalent in today’s day and age.
It goes without saying that the 2 prime requirements of the rural health setup are trained personnel and optimal infrastructure. A trained medical officer is the natural leader of such a system. Presently the number of doctors in the primary health system are markedly deficient and hence the attempted move to make rural service compulsory for all doctors. It is logical that the fresh crop of doctors should be the ones to attempt to bridge the gulf between the rural and urban health setup. Ideally they would be the ones to initiate some kind of scientific and ethical protocol to combat the terrifying practices that are prevalent. At the very least , sanitary conduct of labour , recognition and management of major emergencies, basic environmental hygiene , family planning , reproductive and child health should form part of the charter of responsibilities of the medical officer.

So as myopic as ever , we pass the legislation to make a year’s rural service mandatory and then sit back and give ourselves a congratulatory pat. Before even starting with the case of the doctors , the move will not achieve anything significant simply because of the sheer lack of infrastructure. Our rural centres lack basic amenities such as oxygen cylinders, emergency drugs like adrenaline and atropine , iv fluids and ambulance facilities for urgent referral to higher centres….the list is simply endless. You put 5 doctors per PHC and they will not be able to make any difference with the existing infrastructure.


DOCTORS – FORCED HUMANITARIANS ?

Let us now consider the case of the students and the young doctors. The problem is quite simple here – as the present scenario stands , the best a medico can do post schooling is 5 ½ yrs for MBBS plus 3 yrs of PG , equaling a minimum of 9 years till the completion of post graduation, which in today’s setup is absolutely imperative for any decent employment with some sort of permanence. However , even this arithmetic is for the select few , what with many colleges and universities still exceeding the basic 5 ½ year stipulated period for the completion of the MBBS curriculum. As for PG, it is either the exceptionally brilliant ,or the monetarily privileged who are able to secure a seat in the first attempt , with most students requiring at least 2 attempts and many going on to 3 or more.
So you have a young doctor , typically from a middle class Indian family , nearly 30 till he/she is sufficiently able to sustain himself independently. Just imagine – nigh on 10 to 12 years of dependence on the family post schooling. Most of us would cringe at the thought of the same , especially with the booming corporate and IT sectors which provide lucrative incomes at much younger ages. For all that has been written about the BPO industry, the fact remains that it offers quick money, easily the biggest drawing card for the modern youth. Already school going children are shying away from pursuing medicine as a career. The reasons for the same are the ones I have just named – too long a time to get settled coupled with inadequate financial remuneration. If such a thing did exist upon a time , the so called nobility of the profession and work for a ‘social cause’ is perhaps the last thing the macroscopic majority of students look for in a prospective career. I am not trying to be judgmental here as everyone is completely free to choose a career as per their priorities in life. However the fact remains that there is a steady decline in the quality of the students entering medicine , ironically the one branch where basic intelligence and quality should not be compromised.
In the midst of all this , the mandatory clause for rural service has implications deeper than simply 365 days of physical service. The frenetic pace at which medical science moves has given a new dimension to the age old method of studying . The internet now forms an integral part of the same along with the revered monstrous textbooks. With the ever increasing trend of postgraduate medical exams being centered around molecular biology , genetics and receptor mechanisms coupled with numerous online coaching services and preparatory exams – the one year hiatus would just widen the gulf in front of the student to secure that elusive PG seat. In addition it would spell the virtual death knell for the sizeable amount that have their eyes fixed on foreign universities for their post graduation. Sitting in a primary health care centre in some far flung corner of the country is hardly the ideal way to prepare for USMLE.

SOLUTIONS ???

Well , I have no idea whatsoever else perhaps I would never be asking so many questions. As I have mentioned earlier , the roots are much deeper than we care to admit , and embedded firmly in the age old socio-cultural norms that shall forever prove the nemesis of the country. Merely posting a large number of doctors to rural centres is hardly the answer to cope with the health care problem of a country with a sixth of the world’s total population , and yet spending less than 3% of its GDP on health services. It is only an ad hoc measure akin to reservations for the backward classes. The basic issues of education of the masses , population control , environmental sanitation are the ones to be tackled , and unfortunately the government happily chooses to play the ostrich when confronted by these issues , by burying its head in the ground.
On a different level, perhaps we might look to revamp the entire system of medical education in India , amalgamating post graduate and undergraduate training, similar to the system followed in the US.
It is tempting to say that doctors should be paid better for their government services but as ever this idea is laughable. The salaries proffered by the government health services are a poor joke when compared to the dividends reaped in the private sector.
Can we perhaps privatize the health sector in some manner , if not anything else , at least operationally while the policy making can still be done at the government level. There would be many hindrances here which I’m not aware of and will require the likes of my economist friend Shyam to enlighten us. The one thing I am sure of is that though the cost it will incur would not be acceptable to the powers that be, it will at the very least ensure better cost-effectiveness and cost benefit.

For the moment I end here . Further ideas might be forthcoming on hearing views to the questions I have put forth.

England , blessed England !!!

In fond memory of English Football, which died , on this, the 21st day of November, 2007. Deeply mourned by a large circle of faithful friends and followers. The body will be cremated and the ashes taken to….???? Zagreb?

Well, surely even Fred ‘The Demon’ Spofforths’ bowling out of England for 70 odd at the Oval, 1882 , to secure the first ever test win for Australia on English soil could not have been more dramatic for the purist and the neutral observer , or more heartbreaking for the endlessly ceaselessly suffering English sports fan.
Just when you thought, post world cup , that English Football , with all the alleged talent, and undoubted wealth at their disposal couldn’t stoop lower , Steve McLaren and his motley crew came up with the most unbelievable, comical and downright ridiculous qualifying campaign culminating in the bewilderingly disastrous final match in a soaked drenched Wembley.
Wherefore did all the gladiators of the so called ‘best football league in the world’ vanish….your Lampards, Gerrards, ….and …who else ????
With Owen , Rooney , and Terry out injured and Rio Ferdinand out suspended…all of a sudden the real star names in the English starting lineup had dwindled to a mere 2 individuals, and that too, ones who had repeatedly been found wanting on the international stage in a real pot-boiler crunch scenario. Add to that the venerable McLaren’s repeated refusal to start with David Beckham…..
…agreed, the man can’t run fast…can’t kick with his left foot , can’t dribble , can’t head, can’t defend, has a tendency to get sent off….but he still is a better player than the likes of the Shaun Wright Philipses, Gareth Barrys , and Michael Carricks of this world.
One just has to consider statistics and look into history to consider Beckham’s importance to the national squad , in which over the past 10 yrs only the redoubtable and all too sadly, forever injured , Michael Owen merits a name ahead of him in the teams more memorable moments…be it the legendary 5-1 victory at Munich , the 1-0 over Argentina in the 02’ WC, or the 90th minute free kick against Greece at Old Trafford.
With Crouch as your lead striker, surely it made sense to have your best crosser of the ball on the field for the full 90 minutes….just ask Rudd van Nistelrooy , the number of goals he was handed on a platter by Beckham’s deliveries in Man U and Real Madrid colours.
The defense without Terry and Ferdinand was a shamble. I might have expected England to lose but concede 3 goals at Wembley -- utter blasphemy. As for the goalkeepers throughout the campaign – the only thing I need say is Scot Carson kept up the glorious tradition of English goalkeepers of the best part of the past 20 yrs in producing howlers in a really tight place….just think back to David Seaman watching a Ronaldinho floater sail over his head…or ‘Calamity’ James caught wrong footed on Zidane’s free kick….or Robinson kicking out at thin air in the qualifying encounter in Croatia. It is astonishing to think that in all these years since Peter Shilton, England haven’t been able to produce a single decent and reliable goalkeeper…..how often would you see the like of Buffon, Casillas or Van der Sar produce howlers like these?
So where does English football go from here…..upwards is the only way…cause this really is rock bottom, having failed to qualify from one of the easier groups. One just hopes that the talismanic Owen retains and maintains fitness at least for 2 -3 seasons at a stretch , for his influence on the team is beyond compare. Rooney , thus far hasn’t produced the best in the 3 Lions shirt , but he is , on form and talent , by far the best striker in all the country….
…and the million dollar question after McLaren who’ll sip out of the poisoned chalice….for all of the Jose chants, I scarce think Mr Mourinho will go for it. At the moment Fabio Capello seems the best bet , and it might not be a bad idea. The Italian work ethos might just be what’s needed to knock sense into the underachieving so-called English superstars.
…and for the English sports fans….at least Johnny Wilkinson gave you something to smile at over the summer….now sit back and wait till Ricky Ponting’s men tour next.

....to the blessed perpetrators of pyromania

Its that festival time…..the time of the year people get orgasms at willie-nilly little nothings…total strangers who otherwise would never glance at you, come around wishing you ‘happy diwali’….making you guffaw in the inside on such iron clad memes rampant in the society. The pyromaniacs of society test out their vestibulo-cochlear reserve to the maximum, leaving in their wake a haze of murky smoke and choked lungs ….
….but you do not mind, after all, you get the whole day off , to do exactly as you please….its one of the few times when people don’t bother you on a holiday…amazingly, for the first time, in quite a while you are actually cheerful ..…what could be better, Friday holiday…Saturday half day…Sunday holiday….even more astonishingly , people seem to stop falling sick on these festivals as well, or perhaps their ‘gods’ postpone it till after the festivities are over…the next week’s gonna be chaotic in the hospital….but who looks that far in advance….maybe, just maybe….you mightn’t even survive to see the next week (now, now there…I know it’s the season of optimism….but lets not get carried away, shall we!).
Way to go….. deluded humanity….may you be blessed with more gods…one for each day of the year, if I have my way.…and may your gods continue forever to bless heretics like me , at your dear expense.

People are crazy and the times are strange,
I'm locked in tight,
I'm out of range,
I used to care, but....
Things have changed !!!

to Purpose....or the lack of it !

48 hrs , tossing and turning amidst unquiet dreams and visions . The mind drugged by anti-histaminics and codeine based cough elixirs ; dulled yet receptive….searingly and painfully so, to a plethora of stimuli , of ever changing hues and shades that in an instant blind the eye . For the umpteenth time, in 48 hrs you resolve to read , you open your Sutton…before you comprehend, you find an hour, maybe more (in your state, time holds no meaning) has elapsed. Aghast you stare into the beleaguered text to find pencil streaks covering nigh 10 pages….yet you struggle to recollect a word that was written…and hence , for the umpteenth time , in the same 48 hrs , the book slams shut and you take to your bed.
You stare at the ceiling…..stare at the arachnid weave her traps , unmindful of all else save her next prey , her next mate….and her next offspring. What cares she of aught that goes on in the world . Is she really that different from you and bedraggled mass of delusional species that you call humans. Lying beside you, the 3 most unlikely bedfellows at the first glance…
…..3 volumes of Sandman - Heavens ! they should have banned these long ago , just like they should have done away with cannabis , acid, coke.
….Tolkien , of course. Can you imagine lying 48 hrs in bed and not reading a word of the maestro.
…and finally, and probably unusually, Dawkins’ ‘Selfish Gene’ (we shall see why, though)
….and flipping occasionally through these, you begin to think…..


…………it is all about the Purpose…purpose drives all to each and every end…without purpose, life as we know and define, it would cease to exist. However , you find in the whole thing a ridiculous oxymoron. If Darwin, Dawkins, Dennet and the likes are correct, as you do not doubt they are, then the whole gamut of evolution is purposeless. Things are what they are , simply cause that’s how the prevailing selection pressures over billions of years, moulded them. You , have no more purpose , than the stupid virus which infects you at the present moment, clogging your sinuses and nose.

The city folk had killed the cats and dogs because they might have helped spread the disease. Lacking the power , they imprisoned each other in their houses on the first suspicion of the disease. A rough red cross was painted upon the door, written on a paper the words – LORD HAVE MERCY UPON US.
The door was then sealed and a watchman placed outside , until all in there had been untouched by the disease for 40 days, or were dead.
She heard screams of 2 children high in an attic room, their parents long dead. A newborn baby suckled the milk, and the plague, from a cold breast....on the empty street , a corpse lay , waiting for the cart to take it to the plague pit.
……Despair walked the streets of London in 1665, the Plague year and she still stalks you. Her eyes look at you behind every mirror and sooner or later her hook will find your heart.

….you jump centuries , to a more familiar landscape…..


Plush offices and lounges , exquisite carpentry, tapestries of the finest (not to mention expensive) sort, spas, masseurs, billiards and bridge, golf and croquet. Ladies in their Sunday best sitting by the pool, the shimmering of the water in the glorious afternoon matched only by the dazzling jewels adorning the wonderful women, sipping tea and nibbling dainties .....outside, barely a stone’s throw away from this haven of luxury, in the streets a grubby little child carries a mangled, flea bitten monkey. Her mightily misplaced efforts at some kind of animal acrobatics at the traffic signal do not go wholly in vain. A few sympathetic coins are flung her way. He woos her with passion, fervour and relentless persuasion but he cannot understand her denial. She loves him, he can tell all too well…yet she keeps him at arms length. Not one furtive touch , not a single forbidden kiss, she waits….for the desire to channel to something more sublime….and then they make love, like flames…opening blending , burning…they make love like animals, like gods…………..

…and midst these scenes , walks a man….or one such being. There is something dainty in the fingers, but it is the eyes that enamour you, for they are golden like a cat’s. You are all marked as mine , he says, veritable honey on the forked tongue. You would fain ask , “ what dost thou desire?”.
“Everything, what else is there to desire. After all , being happy, and getting what you want are 2 quite different things. If you have nothing left to want, then you just wait until there’s nothing left to wait for.”
…the eyes glow ever brighter, like a forest fire.

…and so are all are lives wrought. Born into the rabble of desire and despair, dreaming often, delighting less often…and finally at death , being put out of our miserable existence. Some die at birth , some at 10, some at 100…..but each one has lived the same
, each of us have the same amount of time handed to us ….a lifetime…nothing less , nothing more….and in this lifetime, we forever struggle for our purpose , to justify our existence…and like as not, carry the questions securely into our graves.

All the talk of changing the world , healing its woes, making it a better place to live in , seem quite hollow to you…..even were it well meant, which in most cases it is not. But even if it were all well meant , and all perfectly executed…and sickness and famine were banished from human realms , no greed , no hunger, no wars, no genocides…..would that change anything. Would our desires be achieved, would we be free from want, would we forever escape the hook of despair….ha!

Suffer on , Humanity…. Be thou comforted in thy delusions of grandeur. For my part , I shall await, patiently, to look into her eyes, one final time.

Cupid Rejected

One of my old works....alomost 6 yrs to the date.

O, poet divine, thou bard of the albatross,
Who long days at the whiles of ope’ hath spent.
Think thou thy misery hath gall’d thee more ,
Than that which fortune to me hath lent.
Thou spoke of pain
And fiendish sights,
And viper thoughts
On moonlit nights.
Of rot of mind,
Decay of will;
But hear me out,
Thou hadst with thee,
A love of life
Loth to depart,
Plighted troth
To thy soul and heart.
Though never met,
Ever with thee,
Like oil on waters
Of a troubled sea.

When barb’d with gold, the white feathered dart,
Sped from the bow of yon rascal, blind boy
Of Venus, pierced more than this unfortunate heart,
It bled the soul , eclipsed all its joy.
Thou maiden fair, chaste as Luna’s silver rain,
Thy lips as honeydew on coral spill’d;
Those dark cascades tumbling in their perfumed train,
Madam, do not now disown, whom thine eyes have killed.
Would that we could depart together, depart far from civility,
To the rustic hills, the lazy brooks, the ripening heather,
To the bliss of noontide, the verdant greenery,
In some forsaken nook, dream in peace, in our arms together.
Hand in hand, arm in arm, we’d walk in the unnamed woods,
There under canopied shade , I’d nestle ‘mongst thy tresses,
Astride mirth itself, we’d mock Apollo, “Mar us if you could”,
Myself as Orion, would then woo thee, my virgin huntress.

Wherefore I lie now, on accursed Hela’s shores,
Darkness cloaks me, shrieks out in voices fell.
Stricken by grief and torment beyond portend,
O, that I never heard of thee to name or thy deeds to tell.
The thunderer
Mighty Mjoll has hurled,
The mountains tremble
And the stranger world,
Shrinks to a formless
Shapeless grey,
And evil shapes
On the mind now prey.
No human touch
Or piteous eye,
No light or hope
Do I descry;
The eagle descends
Now every eve,
Promethean pain
Is my lot to grieve.
Evenstar of my heart, now cleave to me,
Shut thine eyes an instant, wipe away the mirage.
Love greater than man’s wont , shall I bestow on thee,
Hence, beneath yon silver girt maiden, tonight, let our souls merge.
I stand now, knocking on heaven’s door,
Below, hell fires are lit, the legions of Satan await;
Stretch out thy hand, pull me onto the everlasting shore,
Else everlasting darkness shall be my fate.


In such hour of doom, do the heavens part,
Purple plumed and mantle of silver white;
A rider fair of form doth now appear,
With helm of gold and eyes Valinorean light.
“Come my liege
Shake of thy shroud.”
The blessed one
To me cried loud;
“What lacks thee ever
In wit or grace,
That should become
Such an ashen face.
Fie on thee,
If now thou will
For darkling tresses
Mighty oceans spill.
Hearken ever,
To thy mind not heart
And find thy brooding
Gloom depart.”


He spoke to me, words fair of form
Of wisdom ,enchantment, wizardry.
“Be warned, the greatest, of Man’s banes
Shall ever be a lover’s treachery.
Turn now hence
To the amorous realms
Of fleeting winds,
And leaping streams.
The burden’d boughs
And cooling mists
Shall serve thee better
Than thy aimless tryst.
Look on the glory
Of fair Ithil
From the living rock
Of Zirak -Zigil.
Seek for learning
Or bliss in art,
A mighty sword,
An enduring heart.”


The night is old, my messiah gone,
Like to the west wind, keen of breath;
He scattered the clouds, memory remains,
Of the disfigured dreams like an impotent wraith.
Hear me now
All ye men of worth,
Who in like pursuits
Have lost wit and mirth.
Lie fettered not
In unseen bonds,
But cast a glance
To the world beyond.
Earn wisdom, fame
And great renown,
Not despair under
The bejeweled crown.
Hearken to Athena
And Apollo now,
Dismiss Cupid
And his treacherous bow.

Harry Lives.....

So, Harry Potter survives after all. The Boy who Lived, comes through in the end , against all the odds, vanquishing the dreaded Dark Lord, winning his lady love and settling down to a long and peaceful life dedicated to rearing kids, apparating between a 8 to 5 job , growing tubers in his garden on weekends perhaps….all in all, comfortable in the security of relative oblivion, with his family, friends, and memories of his heroic deeds . All this at the cost of a few, probably disposable, friends and allies ( possibly to keep a somber mood).
Isn’t that what everyone wanted…hordes of youngsters, adults, and greybeards alike had been pleading with Ms Rowling for the best part of 2 years, yearning for that ‘lived happily ever after….good conquering evil- love conquering hate’ ending. So are we satisfied? The majority , I do not doubt are, including the redoubtable author, to whom, if for nothing else, I doff my hat yet again for a brilliant narration and some genuinely fantastic creativity. The book , no doubt, will beat all previous collections by some margin, especially now that the people have been given the ending that they evidently craved.
Ah, but after all the hullaballo ,how so incredibly human and predictable a finale. Would children world over, have been able to sleep at night if it was Harry who had come out worse in the final struggle with his evil nemesis. What comfort would the people trapped in this misenchanted isle of daydreams called humanity have found if for once ‘good’ had failed to prevail over ‘evil’. What answers would Rowling have provided her legions of fans if , as Dumbledore called it , if Harry’s greatest weapon, his power to love, had come up miserably short against the malice of Voldemort.
For me Rowling had in her hands, the veritable chalice to creative immortality of a kind scarce attained , if she’d chosen to end her tale in a kind of equilibrium more suited to reality. Most of her characters were either too black or white , and the amount of white left unscathed at the end , made the whole scenario so bright, it hurt the eyes. Ah, for an ending like Tolkien’s masterpiece - “The Silmarillion”, which I consider , philosophically if not creatively (The Lord of the Rings has to come first in that regard) the most defining in the entirety of creative fantasy. Even the LotR, for its seemingly glorious finale, conveys a more than subtle gloom the very end to those who could discern it, in the form of the final waning of the firstborn in Middle-earth and the passing of the last remnants of the Eldar over the sea.
Without a doubt, as the years have numbered , the sheer mystique of literary characters has lessened considerably. Is it merely the power of the market that makes otherwise endowed authors mellow their characters and creations, or is it a tedious change into the well trodden path of memetic humanoid ‘values and social systems’. Can we possibly dream of a modern day Heathcliff, for me, the most fascinating character in all Literature, or say a Hamlet, a Dorian Gray …or even a Holmes ,with his single mindedly calculated and wonderfully unemotive persona.
Oh, for a tale akin to Orwell’s chilling 1984 or the equally memorable tale of Atticus Finch and his children.
Why do we so ardently seek escape in the form of perfection as envisaged by our culturally branded philosophies of good and bad….is it because reality has little, if anything to offer, at all ? Or perhaps, we are cocooned so securely and irrevocably in our little shells built built right from the times of childhood cathecism, that anything to the contrary seems well nigh unthinkable and outrageously blasphemous.
Is there one out there, to give us a welcome throwback to the days of old…the days when Charlotte Bronte remarked of her own sister’s creation… “I scarce think it is wise to create a character like Heathcliff…”, is there one to challenge the incumbent orthodoxy that humanity so comfortably seems to have slipped in….for me, in the present day, Gaiman with his wonderfully subdued hero Morpheus, is the only one who perwades beyond the tried and tested regimens of human acceptance…..Robert Jordan too seemed a likely contender, but he has let the narration meander far too long ; still it will be interesting to see what he has in store for Ran al’Thor and the rest of the cast of “The Wheel of Time”
……as for Potter, wishing him the best of a human life.

Dreams

The misty gloom at the fall of eve,
May serve to heal , and sever, from its wounded core;
The restless mind, and lend it wings,
Bid it speed to yonder surreal shore.
To rest awhile on fair starlit sward,
Sound the hunt in untamed beech and oak.
Scale the ancient snowy peaks,
Kingly clad in pearly moonlit cloak.
Or mayhap if thou glory seeks,
To fall or fell in the fields of death;
Which shall recount for ages hence,
The deeds of valour in one enamoured breath.
Walk in awe the enchanted streets,
‘Mongst heady fumes of incense divine,
Where bards create ecstatic harmonies,
Whence the maidens dance , and their lovers pine.
Hold converse with sages wise
On life and death and the unseen beyond.
Watch the forgotten tales, brought back
To life, with a wave of some enchanted wand.
Meetings aplenty in the Elysian fields,
With enlightened faces, burden free.
Soon perhaps your day might come,
To cross the river at the anointed fee.

Farewell to Pain

The American National Conference on Pain describes it as having 2 components, one purely sensory and the other being an emotional or affective component. Morphine, the drug of kings, is still one of the most potent drugs available to man for the relief of pain. Morphine selectively acts on the sub-cortical pain perception areas of the brain and abolishes the emotional/affective component of pain such that the patient feels a strange alien sensation from the periphery but it causes him no discomfort

The mind is a strange creature. It is forever at conflict – against the body, against its own self, against others of its ilk ,and against all known norms of the so called civilized society. They say it is this property of the mind that sets humans apart from all other forms of life. The ability to think , to reason and equally , if not more importantly, to feel. Feelings, not simply subjective sensations of touch, temperature or pain which have been scribbled age long in the books, but the capacity to harbour emotions, to love , to feel pity and mercy.
Since as far back as you can recall, they began cathecising you . They taught you good and evil – dividing them by boundaries you have struggled to see even to the latest day. Then they taught you to love – your parents, your family, your friends, your country and countrymen, and above all , to love ‘God’. “Why ?” You would fain question but the reply comes swift and stern , “Hush child! You must do so because we all do, because so we are told, because so it is written in the great books and chronicled by the wise – whose wisdom and authority we have no business to question.” Later when you grow up, you hear and read of a heretic named Darwin who suggests something rather absurd -
That chaos gives rise to order , that all creation and life is mere chance – and that every succeeding generation is more suited for survival and consequently more smarter than the previous. They laugh at you, “ What a preposterous and vulgar suggestion. Man was made God in His own form.” They tell you when to laugh and when to cry , of the times when you should hurt and the times when you should be happy.
However all the teachings come to naught. You stand a bystander on the brink of battle, amidst countless slain; your feet splashing in pools of blood and squashing beneath them mangled human limbs and organs. A voice within tells you that you should cry, that you should feel pain….but try as you might, the voice is alien and you cannot obey! Sooner might the thinking brain command the infracted and failing heart – “Beat ! For so I command you.”
When have the cognitive centers of the mind ever commanded the subtle, brilliantly varied and scarce understood primitive centers – of pain and emotion…of sleep and procreation. Your age old teaching struggles manfully, screaming at that ill-gotten perverted seat of pain… “Make him weep!”…but all that ever happens is the endorphins, those natural brethren molecules to morphine in the brain, simply propound. You sense there is something amiss – with you , your mind or your world – but it scarce bothers you, no more than a gnat from the marshes bothers an iron scaled dragon of many battles.
You are not euphoric…indeed far from it, simply indifferent; not autistic…oh, no- simply weltschmerz.
Your once loved ones depart your world…you put on a façade of grief but it matters little to you. They murmur against you in whispered voices…. “Heartless, that’s what he is .” But those voices are drowned by the ones that surge within you , coming from you very soul…..you descry what it says…like to a verse you heard upon a different time….it is after all a voice of the endless…of a king of sorts.


If you open your mind for me
You won't rely on open eyes to see
The walls you built within
Come tumbling down,
And a new world will begin.
Living twice at once you learn
You're safe from the pain
In the dream domain
A soul set free to fly
A round trip journey in your head
Master of illusion, can you realize
Your dream's alive, you can be the guide but...

I- will be watching over you
I- am gonna help to see it through
I- will protect you in the night
I- am smiling next to you....
In silent lucidity.

Shadows and Chains

The shadows of the twilight realm criss-cross through the waking world. You find yourself walking strange, nameless paths : under canopied forests, floors of which have not known light for ages unrecounted ; struggling over pine clad mountain slopes, slipping on the verglass, drinking from the icy streams; beaten down by the unrelenting malice of the raging sun in parched lands blasted to desolation by design or devilry beyond your waking or dreaming imagination.
Then, in an instant, the unfamiliarity fades away into lands, towns, and streets you know well. Familiar faces clog your vision…well, faces that should have been familiar. Something is different . The smiles warm not your heart, the casual friendly banter springs back off you like leaden darts, off armour forged by the lame smith. The meat and bread hold no taste….even the beloved rum seems strangely queer. An undeniable alienation envelops you amidst these phantom shapes in this seemingly phantom land. You seek desperately for some semblance of reality, but what is a dream and what is real – the boundaries have faded , well nigh irrevocably.
Why is everything so unfamiliar ? Are they unfamiliar?
The reality dawns. You have trodden paths from which mortals may scarce emerge unscathed.
“The higher you are, the further you fall…the longer the walk, the farther you crawl”
The words hit home with a chill. Nothing has changed, save perhaps you., so much so that the waking world which succours you seems an overwhelming burden. For a moment you toy with the idea of severing this burdensome cord….but something recalls Nietzsche to you, and his discourse on life and knowledge…and annihilation.
What then should your recourse be?
The Bifrost gleams invitingly…but mortals may not leave the grey lands of Midgard however weary they seem. In Asgard you would tire and fade away in an instant, like moths before a flame too strong.

“Mirror! Mirror! On the wall,
True hope lies beyond the coast.
You’re a damned kind can’t you see,
The tomorrow bears insanity”

Chains and shackles have scared you from your childhood days. You have forever refused to be bound. Some chains are inescapable- life is the most burdensome of them all , and all others are secured to it. However, not all is lost, there are many chains you may yet stave off; indeed many you have successfully done. They say, not all chains are evil ; every man must at a time grow roots deep into the earth and drink of the ancient wells. Somehow, all this talk of growing and digging does not appeal to you. You would sooner take wing, from airy bower to some distant mountain crag….
….but does it serve to think and speak of wings and flight, when all about you are growing roots.
Amidst such quagmires, you find no answers, ….but maybe we shall get some soon . Oh, yes! Indeed …maybe we shall , my precious!!!

“There are times,
When all the world’s asleep;
The questions run too deep,
For such a simple mind”

Sound of Wings

The urban woods are sombre, dark but not a trace of loveliness do you discern; like battlements and bastions grinning at each other across barren lands wasted by malice and anarchy. There are no promises that beckon - no oaths to be fulfilled…the weariness eats into your bones…but all that awaits you is endless, ceaseless, mindless toil; a veritable ocean; stretching wave after wave, mile after mile; beyond the sight of the keenest eyes.Sleep! Ah, Murphy….Sleep is not your lot, not yet anyway , not by a long way! You strain your eyes far into the madding crowd seeking her, the eldest of the endless, and those disarmingly mischievous eyes….at times you think maybe you see her…you hear in earnest for the sound of wings….but the algesic cacophony of the noisome crowd drowns all sound. The sound of the wings she brings with her, and she comes not for you, yet. The mind gropes the darkness in vain, till at last it hits upon him, the Dreamlord, alone and unaided, in battle before the legions of Lucifer…. “I am hope”…….You smile amidst your toil, the paths have to be travelled ….the wings shall find you yet!“Indeed, what power would hell have if those that dwelt here dreamt not of heaven”

GOD ?

Of late , I have been speaking to lots of people with regard to their belief in god, divinity and their religious philosophies. As a confirmed atheist, I’m quite frequently dumbfounded at how educated people with otherwise extremely logical minds, are all of a sudden, trapped in a cell of insecurity when approached with this topic. More than once have I sensed the feeling , indeed occasionally, the overwhelming desire among such individuals to break free from these age old shackles, but the fear and insecurity of the unknown grips them at the last moment; and they willingly continue to let the memetic virus of god and divinity prey on their minds and hence the society as a whole. I have no doubts that were such people to read a little bit more on the subject , namely authors like Dawins and Dennet, a lot of their ill-founded insecurities and fears would be removed. However suggesting books to people is one thing and , and them acquiring and reading the same is quite another. Hence the purpose of this post is to bring out in a nutshell the most basic arguments pertinent to this matter. Indeed reams could be written , and have been written on the subject, but my objective is to condense all the major arguments into as brief a post as possible. As I have just mentioned , most of my points are grounded firmly on the bastions set by Richard Dawkins and Daniel Dennet, 2 of the greatest thinkers of the modern era ; whose works are in turn based chiefly upon Darwinism and the great theory of Natural Selection.

Definition of God

Before mounting any discussion on god, I think it is pertinent to first clear up what the word implies to the educated, amenable to reason , 21st century man. On the face of it, I think most individuals would deny god as being a kind of ‘every breath you take, every move you make, I’ll be watching you’ tyrant Big Brother…as depicted in most scriptures. I fathom that the modern theist’s identity of god is based on the following philosophy – Creation of the universe and of life by intelligent design…. all leading towards some final purpose….the purpose : which most people believe to be the existence of man and his civilization.
To quote the creationist philosopher John Locke – original intentionality springs from God ; we are God’s creatures and derive our intentionality from him
From this stems the cosmic pyramid of Locke, at the top of which sits god, who in turn gives rise to the mind. Most creationist philosophy derives itself from the origin of the mind from God…..when there is a mind , anything that springs from it must have intention. Hence everything that exists and the way it exists is because it was specifically intended to be so by the mind of god and his mind……in other words , a Human- Centric view of life.

GOD
M I N D
D E S I G N
O R D E R
C H A O S
N O T H I N G (The Cosmic Pyramid)





Reversal of the Pyramid : Complexity from Simplicity

The major upheaval that Darwinism brought to science was a complete reversal of the cosmic pyramid. In its most basic form Natural Selection can be defined as a blind , utterly purposeless, mindless, algorithmic process which over long stretches of time gives rise to complex designs from primitive beginnings of sheer chaos and simplicity. These complex forms that have evolved through billions of years , have no purpose; or meaningful existence- they are simply there because at various stages in the past, their ancestors were better suited for survival and propagation under the conditions that prevailed at that particular time- than other species, who did not meet the desired survival criteria and hence do not have any ancestors today. We humans find it impossible to imagine such species and hence cannot imagine their possible existence. For instance, say , if 500 million years ago there were different climatic and environmental survival stresses, then who knows, instead of humans we might have had fire-breathing dragons , and goblins as the dominant life form on earth. Absurd as this may sound, who is to say that of all possible A/G/C/T combinations that form genes and hence , genomes – there could be a possible combination that if expressed correctly could give rise to a Pegasus or a Sphinx. The chances are extremely unlikely, just like randomly picking up letters from the English alphabet for a length of time and expecting to end up with Shakespeare’s ‘Hamlet’. However, that is precisely what natural selection is - a mindless game of chance which over billions of years gives rise to design and organized form from chaos. Thus, what the reversal of the cosmic pyramid has most effectively achieved , is to overthrow the ‘Human-centric’ view of life- which essentially claims that the universe , the earth and all the laws governing them were made so that humans and their civilization could exist . Humans exist simply because their ancestors had survived and undergone serial modifications in their genome , culminating in the 46 XX/ 46 XY.


The Weak Anthropic Principle and the final rejection of intelligent design

The weak anthropic principle is a summation of the above concepts and serves aptly to deal a veritable death blow to Human-centrism. In its most basic form it states that – “the world does not exist so that we , humans, may live here ; but if the world existed in any other form , we would not be here to see it.”….simple and lucid enough, I think , to not warrant any further explanation.
A lot of theist scientists still hold onto one final hope for intelligent design by postulating that – for life to exist, even at the origins, where 2 nucleotides drifted together in the primitive soup to form the first semblance of nucleic acid (i.e. RNA/DNA); at least the original machinery of replicator and replicator power – i.e. of DNA and protein – that makes further evolution of comples design possible , in an intelligent meaningful manner. In other words , god created the start of life , set the laws for its evolution and thereafter let nature take its course.
Dawkins convincingly refutes this theory and the final hope for intelligent design in the following statement – “ Organised complexity is the thing we are having difficulty explaining. Once allowed simply to postulate organized complexity , if only the complexity of DNA/protein replicating engine – it is relatively easy to evolve it as a generation of yet more organized complexity…..but any God capable of intelligently designing something as complex as DNA/protein replicating machine , MUST HAVE BEEN AT LEAST AS COMLEX & ORGANISED as the machine itself.” In other words, it is far more likely and easier to explain for life to have originated totally by random chance in the primitive soup, than by the designs of an intelligent creator.
Thus, Darwinism , at its very core explains the existence of a world that is purely mechanistic and entirely devoid of any ‘meaning’ or ‘purpose’ – working blindly within the framework of the scientific laws without a single thought to what the end product is ; and as a result , very efficiently bringing to naught the hypothesis of intelligent design and creation …in other words, GOD.


Occam’s Razor : The Celestial Teacup

The final point which I wish to touch upon is to encounter the accusation of philosophers who claim that the God hypothesis is beyond science, and since science cannot effectively disprove the existence of God, you cannot comment on his non-existence….in other words atheism v agnosticism .
The analogy of the celestial teacup is a delightful counter to this point. What would your reaction be if someone told you there is a huge teacup…say 30 kms wide , which orbits the sun ; somewhere between the orbits of earth and mars. You cannot see it evenwith your mostpowerful telescopes, but you have to simply have faith and believe in it…in case you cannot do so remain silent. Even the strongest theist would laugh at the idea , saying that although it cannot be disproved , the idea is so improbable that it is not worth believing. The same applies to the God Hypothesis – the absolute non-existence of god cannot be proved ( till date at least) – but science has made the probability of god’s existence so micro-miniscule that it is not worth believing in. Since you are not agnostic about the teapot, why should you be agnostic about god ?


There are plenty of points, theories, examples which I would dearly have loved to toush upon but that would have compromised on the brevity of the post…something I was very loth to do . Already , I fear, the length of the post maybe too long for the patience of some . For those who’ve read through the whole post , would be glad to discuss any points , objections , contradictions etc etc ….drop me a mail or a comment .

Suggested Reading :

Charles Darwin : The Origin of Species

Richard Dawkins : The Selfish Gene
The Blind Watchmaker
The God Delusion

Daniel Dennet: Darwin’s Dangerous Idea
Matt Ridley : Genome

Favourite Rock Albums

Well…back after a long hiatus, more due to laziness than any genuine reason. Anyhow, this post was inspired by a friend , with whom I was chatting last night discussing rock n roll. I realized that I’d yet to make a post on music on the blog. My plan over the next few posts is to recount my all my favourites in rock n roll…albums, artists, bands, songs etc etc….Today , I’ll start with my all time favourite Rock albums.
Whenever you make an all-time great list of any kind in rock n roll, even if it is of your personal favourites , you tend to get stuck very badly , at least at having to choose between a number of pretty similarly matched contenders for a limited number of positions. Interestingly, my 5 favourite albums were never in any doubt…the problem lay in ranking them , especially separating the top 3. After a lot of soul searching (which included some personal sypathies, as you shall see), the list of my favourite rock albums of all time is :

1. Nightfall in Middle-Earth : Blind Guardian
2. Led Zeppelin (IV / The ZOSO album) : Led Zeppelin
3. Appetite for Destruction : Guns n Roses
4. Metallica (the Black Album) : Metallica
5. Back in Black : AC/DC

I plead guilty at the outset that the list is bereft of any album from the likes of the Beatles, Rolling Stones, The Who and other stalwarts of rock n roll. People may also say that the list is not a rock list but a pure metal- list. I guess my only explanation is that metal is dominated by the album concept (esp that of the concept album…sorry for the play of words),whereas rock n roll in general , esp old time was more dominated by singles. The concept album, where the entire album proceeds to narrating a story , often spread over 2 or even 3 albums , has always fascinated me. In my list , only the Blind Guardian album is perhaps a genuine concept album, but in all the rest ,individually great songs as they are, all come together with an undeniable and quite unexplainable sense of cohesion. So , without further adieu , lets examine the albums separately.

1. Nightfall in Middle-Earth : Blind Guardian

Guardian, a german power metal band, famed for deriving inspiration from fantasy tales and classical mythology for their lyrics ,and combining them with a potent cocktail of powerful vocals (replete with harmonies and choir), searing and where required soulful guitar, and great percussion. NiME is based on JRR Tolkien’s epic work “The Silmarillion”, which describes the events of the first age of Middle Earth and the war of the jewels between the high elves (the Noldor) and the great enemy Morgoth, events which later led to his far more well known work , The Lord of the Rings.
The entire album is a whirlwind ride through the lays of beleriand…augmented aptly at places by dialogues, and commentaries. Hansi Kursch is at his masterful best with vocals that even elves the kind of Daeron and Maglor would be hard pressed to surpass. Songs like “When Time stands Still”…describing Fingolfin’s battle with Morgoth at the gates of Angband; Noldor (dead winter reigns)…describing the doom of Mandos and the legendary crossing of the helcaraxe are standouts. However the 2 songs which steal the show are the title track “Nightfall”….describing the darkening of Valinor and the oath of Feanor ; and “Thorn”…a heart-rending ballad dedicated to Maeglin , the ill-gotten and ill-famed prince of Gondolin.
Throughout the album Andre Olbrich is at his best on the guitar, displaying all at once a mastery over blues and metal roots. Thomen (The Omen ) Staunch is as powerful as ever behind the drums.
Those who haven’t heard NiME can never comprehend the sheer melody , power and ultimately unsurpassed beauty of the album…almost akin to the Ainulindale itself;….those who’ve heard it will never deny it a rightful place among the greatest of the great rock albums of all time.

2. Led Zeppelin

This ground breaking album has been famously been referred to by rock fans by a number of fond titles….The Unnamed Album /Four Symbols/ ZOSO /Stairway to Heaven / Led Zeppelin IV. As far as Jimmy Page and the rest of the band were concerned , the album had no name…as Jimmy famously told Atlantic Records in the tussle before the release of the album , “Its not the name, its our music that will sell the album”. Atlantic were concerned that releasing an album without a name, fearing that it would affect sales adversely. After a long drawn out battle of words the band had its way….the rest, as they say , is history. It went on to become one of the top-grossing albums of all time selling in excess of 40 million copies world over. There can hardly have been more rock n roll classics assembled on a single album than Zep managed on ZOSO….songs like Black Dog, Rock n Roll, Misty Mountain Hop would become part of rock folklore . In addition there were unique songs such as “The battle of Evermore” created on the pattern of a celtic folk song with the lyrics inspired from Tolkien’s “Lord of the Rings” and the acoustic masterpiece “Going to California” which showcased both Plant’s phenomenal vocal range and Jimmy’s unparalleled ability in songwriting / creating .However the album will forever be remembered for giving to the world “Stairway to Heaven”…to my mind , the greatest rock anthem ever
written/composed, becoming the most requested song ever on radio….and not least, the title going on to become an idiomatic expression in the English language itself. From the soul searching opening bars to the adrenaline rushing closure…there is not a single bar out of place….quite simply placing Zeppelin firmly on the pedestal as the greatest rock band ever.


3. Appetite for Destruction : Guns n Roses

“Welcome to the Jungle”….with these words , a harsh guttural screech and a searing guitar riff; Guns n Roses announced its arrival with the most ground-breaking, path-defining and bestselling debut album of all time. The face and ideology of rock was never to be the same again . The band , carried on the shoulders of 2 of the most talented (not to mention controversial) musicians of all time, was for the next 6-7 yrs, to rule the roost of rock and heavy metal while simultaneously being mired deeper and deeper in controversy . On one hand you had Axl Rose, one of the greatest frontmen in rock history , and on the other, one of the true blue guitar geniuses in the top-hatted, chain-smoking Slash…a welcome throwback to the Jimi Hendrix style combining classical rock , blues and metal guitaring all at once. Songs like Sweet Child , Paradise City, and Rocket Queen are all time rock legends. If.their music was a refreshing change from the late 80’s style where classic rock was losing its definition to disco, pop and the likes; their lyrics offered a no- nonsense, in your face, urban reality check and at times rising to sheer poetry and poignancy. The album sold in excess of 30 million copies and was voted the greatest heavy metal album of all time ahead of Led Zeppelin, Sabbath’s ‘Paranoid” and Metallica’s “Master of Puppets”


4.The Black Album : Metallica

Its ironical that if I were to list out the greatest metal albums of all time , at least 2 other albums of Metallica would find a place ahead of the Black album ( or Metallica’s unnamed album).The Black Album was a sudden deviation from the thrash metal perfection they achieved in previous albums like “Ride the Lightening” and “Master of Puppets”. The new album revealed a hitherto unknown softer, more cerebral and surprisingly darker side to Metallica, a kind of versatility few thought they possessed. For me , the lyrical mastery achieved on the album , places it among the pantheon of rock’s greatest.The haunting tunes of “Enter Sandman”and “Nothing Else Matters”, the typical thrash number “Sad but True” and the dark ballad “The Unforgiven” are all classics but the lyrical perfection of the album is best borne out on the song “Wherever I Roam”. In that one song Hetfield effortlessly plays nomadic prophet, clairvoyant and not to mention wanderlust traveler , all at once; in a vocal performance for the ages. The quartet produce one after another moment of sheer thrill and wizardry of vocals, guitar and drums on a backdrop of stirring poetry throughout the length of the album…. culminating in the bridge and chorus of the song “The God that Failed”….

….I see faith in your eyes,
Never you hear the dispirited lies,
I see faith in your eyes…
Broken is a promise…Betrayal!

The healing hand held back
By the deepened nail…
…Go, Follow the God that failed!!!



5.Back in Black : AC/DC


The “Black” is all there is in common between the Black album of Metallica and AC/DC’s legendary Back in Black. The thrash rockers from Oz do what they do best….an onslaught of kickass guitar and banshee vocals with no-holds barred, between the thighs, lyrics that send you shooting through the roof quicker than a triple shot of the fiercest tequila. The sly salacious screams of the flat-capped Brian Jhonson and the adrenaline rushing riffs of rock’s most well known school-boy, Angus Young are guaranteed to provide the most phenomenal and sustained rock n roll orgasm ever. Songs like Shoot to Thrill, Hells Bells, You shook me up all night sum up what AC/DC is all about. There are time when we all wish to forget the higher senses, all kind of logic and sense and just submit to the throes of the most primitive and carnal emotions….you do not have to look further than Back in Black. It is rock n roll at its rawest, uninhibited and embryonic best.