Monday 26 August 2013


                                               "Faith can be Fulfilling"

                                                                 By

                                                           J.L. Gupta

 

A nagging headache took me to the medico. After a few minutes, a look at the monitor indicated that my brain was still growing. To have a clearer view, the doctor gave me an injection. At the end, he merely advised me to show the film to an expert. I did.

After a look at the film, the doctor examined me. He asked, "Do you walk into people?

"Not unintentionally." Can you walk on your toes?" I did. Heels? I demonstrated that I could quickly take to my heels. Still,,  he announced - "you have a tumour in your brain." A few scans and tests were prescribed.

These were cumbersome. Heavy doses of medicated fluids and injections. However, in the evening, armed with all the reports, I was with another surgeon. He had a good look at the films and other reports. Then, he examined me. Finally, he announced – “You have a brain tumour. I suspect, it could be ‘glio blastoma.’ The size is 6cm x 4cm x 3cm. It needs to be taken out.” The date was fixed.

A day earlier, on Aug. 27, 2012, I had entered the medical facility. I was examined by the anaesthesia team. And then met Dr. Rana Patir, the leader of the neurosurgery team. We had a little chat.

He was candid. “The tumours, like the one you have are aggressive. These can reappear even after surgery. This problem is normally considered incurable. However, I shall do my best.”

Strangely, I was totally calm. Not even surprised. Nor inclined to resign myself to fate. I was determined to fight.  I told the doctor – “I know, you are being cautious. Do not want to give me any false hope. But let me tell you that we shall make history. You will do a good job. I shall be fine. Your words are based on the experience of other surgeons. I suspect that while operating, they are scared of the law suits and the billion dollar decrees. Afraid of adversely affecting a body function, they leave a part of the tumour inside.  It grows again. Ultimately, the problem is considered incurable. I can't imagine that in today’s world any condition  can be called incurable.

And then, I said, “you do your best. Be aggressive. Remove whatever looks bad. And if something bad happens, nobody from my family shall even point a finger at you. God shall guide you. Everything shall be fine!”

Next morning, the hospital staff came to wheel me to the operation theatre.

The whole family was present. Even the nephews and nieces with their spouses. I could see anxiety on their faces. Each one of them seemed to be saying a silent prayer. Together, they seemed like a solid wall. A big support. I chose to walk with them. Assured them that all shall be well. Soon I shall be back with them. Sent SMS to anxious friends ‘Dear ... About to go to the OT. Shall call ..!’

Minutes later, at exact 10.00 I was in the theatre complex. The team except the chief surgeon was there. With their permission, I spoke and said, “You are competent. I am confident. You either mend me or end me. Just do not leave me handicapped. And,   even if it turns out to be the last mile on the road of my life today, I shall like to walk it on my own gas. Not on borrowed blood. I requested the doctor to check my BP. He did and announced. 70/120.

What happened then? Late in the evening, I was woken up. In the ICU. The clock showed 7.30 PM. I requested the doctor to call my family. Though groggy, yet, I can recall a conscious effort to check my own vitals. Remember having met the family members. Could see anxiety in their eyes. But I felt totally relaxed. At about 10 PM, I requested the nurse to ring up the room and tell the family that I was feeling fine and going to sleep. Silently, I imagined that the tumour had been removed. The healthy tissue was healing. I shall soon be up and about. Back to routine. With that invisible thought and image implanted inside me, I dozed off.  As usual, I slept well.

 
Got up in the morning. Wanted a toast and a cup of tea. The nurse, who had been monitoring the flow of fluids and other parameters through the night, told me firmly– ‘not till the doctors’ round. And finally, when the doctors came, one of them removed the vent that had been put to suck out the blood from the site of surgery. Put a stitch. I was taken for an MRI. Before I was back to my bed, the surgeon had seen the images on his laptop. Always a man of few words, he looked and sounded happy. I was not surprised.
 
 
I was doing well. By a sheer coincidence, on my wife’s birthday, Aug. 30, I was shifted to the room. Being back with the family and that too on an auspicious day felt good. However, something happened. Hospital infection. Fall in Sodium level. And so on. Tests, which included a lumbar puncture, confirmed Meningitis. I was back in the ICU. Three effusion pumps were pumping antibiotics into me. Some days later, I was back in the room. Ultimately, on Sept. 18, I was allowed to leave the hospital. Since then, I have gone through Radio therapy and some cycles of Chemo. Met a few more medicos. All considerate and kind. Made difficulties look less difficult.

And then, Mohini and I watched the CDs of the surgery. The electric drill to make a hole. The cutter to cut a part of the occipital bone. The continuous cutting, bleeding, washing, suction and all else was there to see on the screen. At the end, everything seemed to have been done very clinically and cosmetically.

Looking back, it is clear that there was a real adversity. Yet, by His grace, I was totally calm, cool, comfortable and confident. No negative thought crossed the mind. How and why? Difficult to explain, but it was there. Was it on account of the innate  faith in Him and the unconditional surrender to Him? Or was it a purely divine blessing?

God has His own ways. Ordinary mortals cannot fathom everything. He blessed me with the continuous support of the family and friends. They have stood firmly with me like a rock. Prayed day and night. SwamiJi’s assurance that “There is an army invoking the divine blessings for you;” Andrew, whom I have not met so far, has been continuously sharing attunements. Alan & Jean Hammond have remained in constant contact. Support has been coming from friends in every nook and corner. All combined to make me feel wanted. Made the adversity look less adverse. The impossible look possible.  Just as fruit follows the flower, fulfilment of  wishes follows faith.

  

 

Friday 16 August 2013



By

J.L.Gupta

 

Some years back, public duty took me away from home. From Chandigarh to Cochin. And more than once, purely as a part of the protocol, I was asked to be at the airport to receive the President of India. On one of the occasions, he was arriving a time when I was to be on the job. So, a note of regrets and a request to call on His Excellency during lunch was sent. The appointment was fixed. I reached the hotel ‘Taj’ punctually.

 

The ADC escorted me to a room. Dr. Kalam arrived soon after. During the twenty minutes that I spent with the President, I was face to face with an inquisitive man. A curious mind.

 

There was a volley of questions. He wanted to know all about the courts, cases and the causes for delay in decisions. Why cannot the criminal be convicted promptly within a fixed time? Why does it take years? Why should the courts be making posthumous awards? And on hearing my response, he asked -- why can we not have more courts? Why do we continue to follow the archaic laws? Why do we not simplify the procedure? Why should there be more than one appeal in every case?

 

The reactions were quick. Despite the fact that he had never delved in law, each observation was pertinent. Actually, a razor-sharp mind. There was the precision of an aerospace engineer. More than that, it was clear that he was always wanting to know more. Willing to change the old rules when required and move forward. Peoples’ progress was the dominant desire.

 

It was evident that the Constitutional Office of the Head of State -- the Governor or President, is not merely ornamental. Nor meant to reward the faithful. Men of merit matter. They make a difference. If such offices are held by men with ability and integrity, they can lend light even to those on whose aid and advice they are expected to act.

 

And fortunately, there is no dearth of such men of ability in the country. Man to man most of us can hold our own against the best in the world. Yet, we often opt for mediocrity. Merit is invariably sacrificed. Even in matters of appointment to the Constitutional Offices, irrelevant considerations of caste and creed are seen to creep in. Sadly, we prefer the pliable to the able. When we do that the individual gains but the ‘office’ and the ‘institution’ suffer.

 

Is that the reason why we are where we are? One of the most corrupt nations of the world?

 

 

Monday 5 August 2013


“Food! For Thought”

By

J.L. Gupta

 

 

Cordial company.  Appetising aperitifs. Vintage wine. Succulent snacks. And finally, a splendid spread produced by the cooks from Kolkata. All combined to make it a perfect evening.

 

In between, as we sat and talked, the charming lady asked a prominent political party leader - “We are a poor people. Why do the politicians need crores of rupees? The appetite appears to be insatiable.”

 

The response was candid. “Madam! You have not contested an election. You have no idea of the costs. The amount varies. Notwithstanding the solemn declaration that every MP makes, in north east, the election to a parliamentary seat costs about a crore. In north west, it is many times more. In the south, it is the highest.”

 

“Oh! Really?”   

 

“Yes! And then there are the recurring expenses. Anyone who falls sick in my constituency travels to the capital. Reaches with a number of family members. They walk into the house as a matter of right. Command me to get the patient admitted to a good hospital. Thereafter, whether the patient remains in the hospital for a week or more, looking after the guests is my responsibility. Till the patient gets well. Finally, I have to get them the ticket to travel back home and have them dropped at the station.”

 

“My God! But how does an election cost crores?”

 

The response was revealing. “As soon as it becomes known that the elections are in the offing, the subtle hints start. From different quarters. The ‘channels’ talk about the surveys to assess the mood of the masses. The image building. The office bearers get calls. Often, the talk is blunt.

 

Then, there are the self appointed ‘workers’ and ‘leaders.’ Each with a price tag. With ‘urgent’ in capital letters writ large on the face. To mobilise the ‘masses’. In the urban and rural areas. In colonies (a euphemism for slums). Factories. Offices. Trade Unions. The list is endless. And if you delay or dither, the man is gone. In just a few hours, he can be seen in the office of the opponent’s party.... And that is not all.”

On the way back, I said, “Appalling.” My wife recalled the words of the maid. When asked – “For whom did you vote?” Her response without a hint of hesitation was – “Mataji! Jiska bada note, usko mera vote.” (I vote for the one who gives me the highest price.)

 

The host had done everything to make it a perfect evening! Indeed it was. In addition, we had come back with a lot of food for thought.       

Thursday 1 August 2013

Open Letter to Prof Manmohan Singh

“An Open Letter”
By
J.L. Gupta

Esteemed Prof. Manmohan Singh!

I have resisted the temptation of writing to you for a long time. Now I am convinced that silence, is not an option. Please forgive me for taking the liberty of writing an open letter to you.

It was the year 1960. I had joined the Law College at the Punjab University. After some time, you had taken over a teaching assignment in the Department Of Economics. Both the departments were initially located in different buildings but were ultimately  housed in the department of Chemical Engineering. So, I had an opportunity to see you fairly regularly. More than that, I also used to sometimes stay at the house of my uncle who was teaching Mathematics. He lived just opposite your house.

Those days, everyone believed that  ‘economy is also a source of revenue.' I vividly remember that you used to walk from your house to the department every morning.  Only occasionally, you were seen driving the Lambretta scooter. In fact, the teachers and students mostly used to only walk or cycle to their departments. Resultantly, all were physically fit and medical expenses were minimal.
The Leaders too lead by example. Even during the war with Pakistan, P.M. Shastri had preached and practised austerity. The guest control order was a simple but an effective measure to avoid wastage of food and discourage ostentatious living. He had lived by his principles. When a rain accident occurred during his tenure as Railway Minister, he had not only resigned without any loss of time but also refused to go back home in the official car. Therefore, the people valued his word.

Today, more than half a century has passed. The change is visible. We have grown materially but dwarfed morally. We have moved from austere existence to aristocratic style; from economy to extravagance. Resultantly, gold is our God. Money is the main mantra. From the love of values, we have fallen to the love of valuables. 'Politics', which was once considered 'public service is today described as a 'combination of two words - Poli  which means many and Tics - known as the blood sucking insects.' And there is good evidence. BMWs have replaced the old Ambassadors. Our leaders like to live in luxury instead of putting in labour. Governance is conspicuous by its absence. Yet, the cost of governance continues to mount by the day. In Mahatma Gandhi's party, his principles are the first casualty at the hands of the party leaders. They talk of principles but act only on interest. They promise but do not perform. No wonder, some bureaucrats are following the unedifying example.

Still, we claim a high rate of growth. Yes! Corruption. Pollution. Shortages of potable water and power. A perennial shortage of beds in hospitals and seats in schools. Despite all the taxes and education cess etc.. And we have depleted our natural resources. Devalued our currency to the rock bottom. Our rivers are reduced to dirty drains carrying human and industrial waste. Air is contaminated. Small children experience acute difficulty in breathing. A large number carry inhalers to schools.  The green forests have vanished. There is no security of person or public and private property even in the NCR. In fact, even looking at the way the Chinese had set up various posts, the government's ability and will to defend the territorial integrity of India have been highly suspect. We had a great Opportunity to solve and settle the Kashmir issue when we had more than 90,0000 Pak soldiers and officers as Prisoners of war. We frittered it away for no reason. No wonder, the problem still persists.


And then, a question that bothers me is - what has freedom from foreign rule given to the poor illiterate people of India? One would have at least hoped for Freedom from want and hunger, inequality and untouchability. But no! The gap between the rich and poor has increased.  Even the basic necessities are not available. Is this the JUSTICE that our Constitution promised to us? Are we not going through tougher times today than in the pre 1947 era? Who is responsible for the mess we are in? I shall pause for an answer.

Sacrifice and Survive

“Sacrifice and Survive”
By
J.L. Gupta

In Lucerne, I made a casual query from a man on the boat - 'where can I get some water to drink?' He picked up a paper tumbler, bent over the side railing, filled it up from the lake and offered me the drink. I was hesitant. He had not missed my reaction. So, he drank the water and said, "The Swiss lakes and rivers have the healthiest water in the world. It comes from the Alps.”
I recalled the words of my grandmother. Spoken in the mid fifties. The “water in this bottle is from Ganga. I had got it about ten years back. It is still fit for drinking. I use it only at the time of prayers.”
Decades have passed since then. Can we say today that the water in river Ganges or for that matter any other river or lake in India is potable? While the Swiss and many others can, we cannot. They have taken care of the environment; preserved the purity of the natural resources; saved the air, earth, environment and water from pollution. We have done just the opposite. We have plundered our natural resources. Destroyed the flora, fauna and the forests. Deprived the animal world of their natural habitats. Our air, environment and water are polluted. The lakes are going dry. The rivers have been reduced to dirty drains. The sub soil water has either vanished or is not fit for drinking. Still more, there are frequent reports that the grains and vegetables are loaded with carcinogenic elements. These are not fit for human consumption without being properly processed.
Is it not ironic that all this has happened despite the constitutional mandate in Articles 48A & 51A? We also have a plethora of legislations like “The Water (Prevention and Control of Pollution) Act, 1974; the Water (Prevention and Control of Pollution) Cess Act, 1977 and other similar enactments relating to Air & Environment etc.; the creation of State and Central Pollution Control Boards; the Municipal Committees, Corporations and the so called Urban Development Authorities. The people have painfully borne the heavy financial burden of all these Authorities. But to no avail. The developers have acted as the destroyers. The protectors have miserably failed to perform. In fact, they have been the cause of a systematic deterioration. A drive along the river Ganga or Yamuna would show that the drains carrying the city waste are being discharged into the rivers despite the “Ganga Action Plan prepared by the Ministry of Environment & Forests in December 1984 for immediate reduction of pollution load on the river Ganga” and the constitution of the Central Ganga Authority in 1985 to oversee the implementation of the Ganga Action Plan by the Government.
Today, in this land of milk and honey, we cannot find a sip of potable water by the roadside. The hand pumps that used to have invigorating aqua in gallons have already gone dry. We get small bottles of ‘mineral’ water at a heavy price. During the college and university days, we never had to buy a bottle of water. Today, we have to. Why?
If the recent events are an indication, the politicians are selling the plum posts. The bureaucrats are buying them. Then the two survive by sacrificing.
What? Whom? The principles or the holy goat – the taxpayer?
Both. No discrimination