Santhosh's ramblings

Over the past two months, I have had two haircuts—each a completely different experience.   The first was at one in a chain of barbershops, offered at a very reasonable price. The professionals there, and our conversation, were intriguing. Nestled in a small town in Kerala, the shop was run by three young barbers from Uttarakhand who had picked up respectable Malayalam. My grasp of Hindi allowed me to connect further, leading to minimal discussions about their lives, how they ended up here, and what it was like living far from home. Still, there was a restraint in our exchange. I pondered the reason - perhaps my age, a subtle sense of being outsiders, or that intricate web of hierarchy present in every Indian community.   Of course, there was an offer to dye my hair and make me look young too, which I politely refused.   The second haircut took place in a stand-alone shop, an older-style barbershop, again  charging the same fee but at the capital city. I had last vis...

I’ve had three small  (very minor) accidents in the last two months. All of them, unfortunately, were of my own making. Yes, this is a “confession blog.” Each one was potentially avoidable, and - truth be told - my spouse had warned me that this was bound to happen. More on that later. But it makes me wonder: is this a case of late onset “Accident Proneness”? Is it a newly emerging disorder (I prefer to call it a disorder - because that diffuses responsibility), or is it a late-onset behavioral trait (for which I must, unfortunately, take full responsibility)? Or was it all, the wet climate of Kerala? (I need to find a reason beyond self.) I’ll leave the diagnosis to the reader.   Accident #1: Running Before Yourself Disorder (RBYD) - The first accident was a slip and fall on a wet and slippery step, the effects of which I’m still recovering from. In hindsight, the problem wasn’t the step - it was me. Specifically, it was me running ahead of myself. For those neurologist ...

This blog is not about our family weddings, but something deeper. Some recent weddings have taught me much - about myself and about our culture. I’m taking a bit of a risk by sharing some family stories, but let me reassure my family at the outset: my intention is not to embarrass anyone or to air our dirty laundry in public but use these events to reflect on the culture around us.  The question I’ve been grappling with, after attending a few family weddings over the past three years, is this: Why do fathers seem to have a harder time than mothers in letting their daughters go? Or is this just my perspective as a man - that we struggle more? One thing I’ve realised  is that men often have a harder time giving up control than women do. We are - broadly generalising  here - control freaks. These days, I find myself advising men my age or younger, (mostly baby boomers) who have daughters yet to be married, to watch the movie  Father of the Bride . I watched it before my...

I saw this in a market in another country recently. I wanted to have a taste of it, but it was too late that day and already full. So I thought I’d try another day. But I did take some photos and sent them to friends and family. The response I got was: “How can you even think about this?”; “Someone’s poison is someone else’s delicacy—how can that be?; “Are you going to eat a plate of the ‘abominable’?” one asked. Another response was almost: “How can they eat such things? Are they even human?” I was okay with the “whew’s,” “phew’s,” and “ugh’s,” but writing people off based on their cuisine - I found that a bit challenging. In the shrub in our garden, we get three types of birds. One - the hummingbirds - come in to suck the nectar. Then there’s the group that comes to pick up bird feed from the feeder. And finally, the crows that collect all the junk from the floor. But their food does not disqualify them from the family of  ornithes . Does what goes in - or what we eat - make us l...

Sometimes life speaks through metaphors - and lately, it’s been speaking through the eyes. Over the past few weeks, I’ve been reflecting on three kinds of “visual challenges” I’ve been facing. Not all of them are medical. Foggy Vision It’s been raining heavily on this side of the country. Have you ever driven through a downpour where even fog lights, wipers on full blast, and reduced speed didn’t help? I am doing this - almost daily. And sometimes, the only safe response is to stop, wait, and start again once visibility returns. Driving a small car in that weather only adds to the struggle. Big trucks cruise past like floating ships, splashing pothole water over my windshield, making an already difficult situation worse. But here’s what I’ve noticed - these intense showers don’t last forever. They come in hard, but they pass quickly, often leaving behind a clear sky.  Isn’t that just like life? There are seasons when everything feels unclear, overwhelming, or simply out of control....

The past two weeks were filled with events that stirred many memories—some brought warm nostalgia, while one was deeply painful. The first was a get-together with schoolmates to plan support for our school as we mark the 50th anniversary of our batch. Most had plenty of stories to share about their school days, but I seemed to have forgotten most—except for one or two beatings I got from teachers—the pain. Yet, one thing stood out clearly: the memory of doing fun things (and for some, crazy and foolish things too—though I wasn’t all that crazy back then) with friends—the relationships. Read more The second was a reunion of our MBBS batch to celebrate one of our classmates who received a national award. There was plenty of talk about the remarkable work he has done, along with recognition of other notable people present—our batch includes national awardees, a medical college principal, a university Pro VC, and other professionals who have made a real impact. But as I drove back, what st...