Travels, books and music

The dog- who never failed me- For the last three years he had been faithfully coming to escort me from the car park –even during the COVID days– to my OPD– and always reappearing to say goodbye-he never asked for anything- his friendship was total - his wagging tail only revealed his emotions. Be it summer, winter and rain- he never made an excuse –he was there– we talked through our eyes– said goodbye once he left me in my department. One day I found him missing from the car park – I knew something was amiss- OPD was full of patients– soon I was listening to their rumblings–and I heard a low painful howl just outside my consulting room window. I was aghast.My fears had come true. I found him lying in a pool of blood – unable to move– there is something very pathetic about a hurt animal – they are like a paediatric patient– they cannot complain clearly– tell us where it hurts– it is depressing. Placed some food and water– he was hungry and thirsty– some car at the car park

File summary This document presents comprehensive information regarding plant-based meats, outlining their ingredients and production processes. It explores various types of plant-based proteins, such as textured vegetable protein (TVP), wheat gluten, pea protein, and tofu. In addition, it offers advice on how to effectively prepare and utilize these proteins for creating meat-like products such as burgers, sausages, nuggets, and bacon. Emphasising the advantages of consuming plant-based meat, including reduced saturated fat levels, elevated protein and fiber content, and potential risk reduction for certain diseases. The document strives to provide guidance and motivation for incorporating plant-based meats into a wholesome and environmentally-friendly diet. In conclusion, plant-based meat products offer substantial advantages in both environmental and health aspects compared to traditional meat products. With growing awareness of these benefits, the demand for plant-based meat is pr

It was always torrid- It took time to realise its importance - to enjoy life you need money, otherwise you could harp on hollow talks about detachment– to let go of materialistic things in life– and embrace spiritualism– you talk about such things only when you do not have enough money in your account. Initially first i used to spend money– and then whatever at month end ( nothing was left) i tried to save– i used to look at amusement at my friends who started saving –from their first pay and very soon they had bought immovable properties– things which bought happiness in later life and not – one night fun. My thoughts were that these talks of saving money were frivolous –there is only one life– enjoy it– we can save later when responsibilities come in– but I was wrong . Everything revolves around money. You can only enjoy your hobbies, your free time - once you stop worrying about your nest. So it was eating, drinking myself silly, splurging on fine dining and fine accessories– at

Before apps came in –marketing Before the era of mobile applications, I used to thoroughly enjoy going to the bustling vegetable market in my childhood days. It was a delightful experience to grab a market bag, particularly on holidays, and immerse myself in the vibrant atmosphere. Despite the somewhat grim conditions, with the presence of cows nudging around and the occasional threat of being bitten by stray dogs or gored by bulls, I relished the opportunity to interact with the vendors and engage in spirited haggling. Even though I would occasionally fall victim to their tricks, I would return home feeling content. Afterward, I would dedicate both time and effort to thoroughly cleanse myself and the fresh produce from the market, ensuring everything was ready for storage. This routine always left me with a sense of satisfaction and fulfilment. As Tech stepped in marketing became a breeze Technology became a boon as we grew up and faced time constraints. Going to the market and f

I had a fetish for pens– fountain pens . ``` During our childhood, the school emphasised the importance of beginning our writing journey with a fountain pen. They believed that using this instrument during our formative years would help us develop a clear and proper handwriting that would last a lifetime. However, despite practising cursive writing diligently, I seemed to be cursed when it came to achieving good handwriting. ``` But during the journey, I actually started liking fountain pens. Back in our childhood days, there were no fancy gadgets to fill the ink. You had to tilt the bottle and fill up the bottom half. And, inevitably, by the time you were done, your hands would be covered in blue or black ink from Camlin. We were prohibited from using ballpoint pens because it was believed they would negatively affect our handwriting. However, I have discovered that this belief was actually a myth. Ballpoint pens are neat, offer much better handwriting, and can be preserved. On th

I get high on medical conferences. I am from the medical profession specialising in the field of dermatology. Dermatology is a profession which thrives on conferences– one conference fades into another– like our country which is perpetually on election mode– Dermatology is perpetually on a conference mode– each patting their back– about how successful their conference was. Our annual conferences were a grand affair–knowledge, food, entertainment, venue– a heady cocktail of the best of the best– always looked forward to– planning started much in advance. And every year post conference we came back bloated – with food , entertainment and a little knowledge which lasted till the next conference, The initial days Got introduced to medical conferences soon after doing my PG–initially I was very serious in approaching a conference– would be in the venue on time– and would be the last person to leave the hall– take notes– and collate them once back to the room- plan the next day's spea

No timers–no self help books , no articles on phone addiction could help me from the time wasted on scrolling and the overwhelming feeling which drove me was FOMO and the fear of losing one's credibility and acceptance in the society. I had only two social app on my phone– twitter and whattsapp group. And even these two proved to be addictive and counterproductive– first thing i did was to turn off notifications– it did not work– there was something uncanny about your hand reaching to the phone unknowingly– then i started archiving the addictive groups and the first thing i was reaching for was the archived ones- slowly it took time– now i do not - i scan the archive group only on Sundays–and mostly clear chat them. Keep the phone in another room when you are working– did not work– and the best part about it was once you started scrolling– you lost track of time– and before you realise that you have transported yourself to another world– from where it was difficult to pull yourself

Carpe Diem– only the morning walkers are capable of- Go for a techfree walk, without your headphones, mobile phones– then you will observe the surroundings– the flowers , the plants, the sky, the sights and sounds of your fellow walkers– Every walker which you pass by tells you a story– by their gait, accessories,by their company they keep, by catching a snippet from their talks. You can typecast them and it is a fun - The serious ones–There is a group of walkers who take their morning walk very seriously,-- they have multiple contraceptions around the body, – intermittently checking each gadget for performance, speed, calories, – with earplugs on to shut out external diversions– perfect high end shoes for running, and the apparel– are too good.I like their well chiselled , fat free profile– but am not ready to emulate it– as it comes with a high price tag– for them health becomes an obsession–the idea of being healthy devours them. The childhood friends–Then comes a selection o

I was in a cushy government job– as far as pay was concerned i was in the top bracket– but the promotion and challenges in life got stagnant- wanted to ride the hamster wheel again– despite being in a comfort zone– but i did not want to get into the rat race again-because whether you win or lose does not matter-you will remain a rat at the end - so in my comfort zone where i did not have to worry about the basic amenities in life -time was mine– i had the choice how to spend it – because that is one thing which we think is unlimited–but it is limited. In the capitalistic world we conflate success with the achievement of the extraordinary. Winners are those who achieve the extraordinary, losers are those who do not. The two mindset shifts to escape the trap: It’s not about achieving the extraordinary, it's about finding purpose, joy, and fulfilment in the ordinary along the way. The prize is not the achievement you strive for, but the striving itself. To reach the comfortable zone-

God and the sky He paints, and his repertoire of colors, the size of his paintbrush, and the color combinations on his palette are infinite. He paints by drawing the sun across the horizon; he paints by sprinkling the sky with a handful of clouds; afternoon, as usual, is an orphan; it belongs to no one; so he also has a siesta, rising up to paint the evening sky with wonderful hues. and the scene, the hue, everything changes by the seconds—if you have blinked your eye, you are going to miss the symphony. I like the evening sky more than the morning sky—huge molten pots of gold, from yellow to brilliant red—he brings out his whole paintbox. The morning sky is more benign—meditative, still rubbing its eyes as the gentle morning breeze plays with the clouds, arranging and rearranging them like a jigsaw puzzle. While the evening sun before settling down to sleep always sheds a tear at the follies of humans with the promise of a better tomorrow, Clouds come floating into my life, no l

Literally brewing a storm in a tea cup Make everything simple. I still weed out the condensed milk that settles on top of the freshly brewed hot tea, as I did during my childhood. had a health problem—could not tolerate milk—it was filter coffee for me or nothing—no sugar, no chicory, no milk—pure filter coffee made in South Indian style—the aroma was heavenly—it wafted around every corner of the house—the taste was male, brutal—the effect—all senses fired on all cylinders. The taste and the aftereffects were so addictive that I was sometimes ready to sacrifice my night's sleep after a nice post dinner cuppa . My health got back to normal, and I tried to venture nimbly into the substances I had omitted during my illness—tea and milk. My journey with tea began with the herbal, green, and infusion teas; it required an acquired taste; it was horrible; if you do not want a guest to come back again, it is the best tea to serve; and I have doubts about the healthy benefits that the

I always felt a distance creep in between me and my patients when I put on my formal dress of a shirt and tie with the doctor's coat on top. The court would put a guard between me and them if they had difficulty coming forth with their anguish and complaints. Changing to scrubs helped—with no mark of identification on you, the interchange became fluid and cordial—more like between friends—and that's when the true history came out—about their disease, their suffering, and how it was affecting them both physically and mentally. It was easy to treat them physically but tough to mend their scarred psyche. It altered my ego also—it just vanished—and it became a pleasure listening to them and helping them out. Although I had a hidden agenda, I believed in karma—the good you do to others comes back to you in a different way, albeit. And it does—the book of debit and credit in life gets balanced in this lifetime. The ease of working with scrubs was heavenly; it was during the COVID

I am an introvert, and I am not antisocial. We are different. We speak through silence—we listen rapturously to it and try to memorise it. Silence speaks to us without words. Silence is the best manure to grow. Generally, only my better half realises my nature; society does not. I turn into an ambivert in a social gathering—I make small talks, I mingle—but two hours of social interaction require four hours of isolation to recharge. I am a hardcore introvert—my profession as a doctor demands otherwise—so I have to turn ambivert sometimes, especially when I am communicating with my patients. It cannot be a one way affair with them. I did not miss the social life during COVID isolation. In fact, the isolation came as a breath of fresh air. After a tense day at the hospital, you wanted to be left alone to collect your thoughts and get back your sanity. Give me a good book, some good podcasts on Spotify, and a few movies on Netflix, and I am good to go. In fact, my better half someti

You get afraid of facing challenges of life and it brings out the worst in you -never let you know your full potential--let alone develop it. Cocooned in the zone -you defy the poem of Robert Frost -- of taking the road less travelled. You always travel the road on which everyone travels-- as you are sure of the destinations and hardships on your way to achieving your goal. You travel on the same road again and again-- thinking your life is under control--refusing to come out of the false security cocoon. as a result at the end of the day -- you are at the same place where you started. No new skills, no new personality development, static income. My story-- I was in a government job for almost 3 decades-- where horses and donkeys are all the same-- there is no respect for your inefficiency or efficiency- at the end of the month -- you are happy with your guaranteed fixed income. The month passes balancing your budget of credits and debits- waiting for next month's assured p