A Renowned Laparoscopic And Bariatric Surgeon From India.
A Renowned Laparoscopic And Bariatric Surgeon Srom India.
My husband and I recently binge-watched “Made in India- A Titan Story”. The eloquently told six-episode series chronicles the journey of Titan and its visionary leader, Xerxes Desai. It takes you through the highs and lows of building one of India’s most iconic watch brands …
बहुत सालों पहले, एक कटिंग चाय के बुलावे पर, चार यार चुटकियों में मिल जाते थे,बैठकर साथ उस कैंटीन में, किसी भी बात पर खुलकर हँस जाते थे। जोक चाहे लैंड हो या ना हो, हम इतना हँसते कि दिल के सारे तार खुल जाते …
Well, I have been meaning to write this since the passing of Mr. Piyush Pandey, the advertising wizard of Ogilvy. Over the past few days, social media has been flooded with the unforgettable ads he created—each one a reminder of how he shaped our collective nostalgia.
For me they tugged on a distant memory from about three decades ago. The Cadbury girl! She adorned the wall of my dull and drab hostel room. I had bought the poster from the local co-operative store for 60 bucks (quite a fortune at that time). That was my first year in the hostel. We put up all kinds of posters to cheer up the room and also to cover hundreds of nail holes created by the previous occupants of our rooms (the nail holes could be so many that sometimes it felt like the Count of Monte Cristo was trying to dig a tunnel out of the hostel). The poster added much-needed color to the dull walls. Anyone who walked into my room would instantly get fascinated by this girl who had the ability to break into a dance in a stadium full of people.
The Cadbury Girl in the poster was everything that I was not. Probably that’s why she was on my wall. I had grown up in a very small town, then moved to Mumbai for a couple of years, and then again moved to a very small town for my medical education. While the Cadbury girl was the epitome of “carefree,” I think at that time I was the antithesis of it. I was alone (read single), unsure, underconfident, and cash-strapped. I was still trying to find friends. The academic pressure was high. The nights felt long and dreary without the comfort of having my family around me. I missed my old life, and I was anxious about the future. The weight of expectations was bearing me down in those initial days. The adjustment was more difficult than I had thought.
But then, as always, life goes on. Over time, I added to the number of nail holes in the walls of my room (I was stung by the Count of Monte Cristo syndrome too). And then covered the walls with many other posters to cover those additional nail holes. I even tried filling the holes with M-seal and managed some wall art by sneaking in some paint without the permission of our warden.
The Cadbury girl on my wall eventually faded, and the corners of the posters gradually got rumpled. By then I had completed my MBBS and was ready to move back to the big city from the small town. I was a little bit surer of myself, and the doctor tag added a dash of confidence. I had started earning a stipend, so I wasn’t cash-strapped anymore. Most importantly in those five years, I found friends for a lifetime. Friends who are my extended family and friends with whom I intend to live through my old age. Also, I am not single anymore.
The Cadbury Girl was my companion throughout my hostel days. I will be honest in saying that even today I am not truly “carefree” like her, but somewhere along the way, I think I absorbed a part of her spirit—a reminder to find joy in the little moments and to dance through life, even when the music isn’t playing.
Perhaps that’s what growing up really is—learning to carry a bit of that light and dance with you through the years. Maybe at the end of the day, it’s all about finding the Cadbury girl inside us!
PS: Image credit- Google
Blessings alone are not enough to keep the lights on She entered my cabin with a bright smile, reminding me of our acquaintance from years ago. She thanked me profusely for changing her daughter’s life—this time, it was her son she had brought along. Between …
She is just 13 years old.Six months ago, she weighed 153 kilos. Today, after 6 months of bariatric surgery, she weighs 112 kg. She has lost 25% of her total body weight—a remarkable achievement by any medical standard. Physically, she’s doing better than ever. Emotionally, …
The Uterus Dialogues
Iska “uterus” to thik hai na? (Is her uterus alright?)
I am not a gynecologist. So, it took me a few moments to digest this question. It was thrown at me by a young patient’s mother who had accompanied her. For a few seconds, I was stumped and could not comprehend what exactly was being asked.
I paused for some time, still failing to understand.
I asked her again, “What do you mean?”
“I mean, is the uterus in good condition?” she reiterated.
As I looked at her, the person vanished, and a uterus replaced her in the chair across the table. I imagined a uterus with two dainty feet sitting cross-legged with a delicate bag and sunglasses, demanding a check-up from me. I guess her mother saw her the same way.
From her perspective, the uterus was the main character. The uterus would determine the future prospects of her daughter in our society. The uterus was not just a uterus; it was a guarantee of security, almost a status symbol.
If anything needed to be preserved with care in her daughter’s body, it was the uterus.
More than her heart, for what does the heart matter in practicality?
More than her mind, for women with their own mind are not an asset but a liability.
More than her soul, because who cares about it?
Now, most of you must be thinking that it is such an innocuous statement. Why am I making a big deal about it? What is so abnormal about a mother wanting to know about the condition of her marriageable daughter’s uterus? That is so normal.
But I guess nowadays the definition of normal has changed.
The abnormal has become so normal that it is almost abnormal to question it!
The uterus, as it appears, is a great equalizer in our society. It does not matter whether one is fair or dark, rich or poor, educated or uneducated, a working woman or a homemaker, financially dependent or independent; the uterus seems to take precedence irrespective of everything.
But should it?
Perhaps it is time we adjust that lens. A woman can not be defined by one organ. She is her mind, her spirit, her dreams, her compassion, and her contribution. The uterus is just a part of her story, but how can it be the whole?
I wish I could tell my patient’s mother that the uterus is the great paradox of a woman’s life. It is both the crown and the chain—hailed as her liberator, yet binding her in the very same breath.
The saddest part is that I know that deep down she probably knows it too.
©️Dr. Aparna Govil Bhasker
God does His bit too! As surgeons, we are trained to give nothing but our best. In surgery, striving for perfection is a given- It is the ultimate non-negotiable aim. From the very beginning of our training, we are taught that the first time is …
As a lady doctor/surgeon, I end up having amusing experiences on some days. Today, a lady came in with a rectal prolapse. She’d already seen a male doctor but now wanted to consult a “lady doctor.” We spoke, I examined her, explained the condition, and …
Yesterday, a 44-year-old man living with a weight of 182 kg broke down in tears during the consultation.
He did not cry because he was in any kind of physical pain. He cried because he felt utterly helpless—and scared. He cried because he could no longer breathe easily or walk without difficulty. Breathing and walking are basic, right? He cried because he felt he was failing as a father and as a husband, unable to support his wife and children the way he wanted to.
Every attempt to lose weight had ended in defeat. He felt like he was a burden on everyone. He felt that his life was over.
This is the hidden weight of obesity. It’s the part no one sees.
People living with obesity carry years of silent suffering. They are constantly mocked, judged, and dismissed. They are labelled as lazy, irresponsible, or lacking willpower. They live an entire lifetime with smirks, unsolicited advice, or silent disdain.
And yet what we see in our clinic is that most of them have tried—tried harder than we can imagine.
Here lies the paradox: society expects them to “do something” about their weight but offers little understanding of the disease or support. Instead, it adds layers of #shame, making an already difficult journey even more difficult.
It expects them to fight a complex battle alone and also pins the blame on them at every step of the way.
Obesity is more than a physical condition—it’s a complex and deeply emotional experience. What people with obesity often need is not more advice, but more #empathy.
Sometimes, just being treated with kindness and understanding can lift more weight than any scale ever could.
©️Dr. Aparna Govil Bhasker
PS- Image is AI generated
“How old are you?” I asked.“42,” he said.“What do you do for a living?”“I used to work for one of the Big Fours. Now I’m retired.”At 42?Curious, I asked why.“I couldn’t handle the #stress. I’ve lived with #depression for years.” This wasn’t the first time …