The Divided World

Look at that bird fly in the sky,
I can't do that, no matter how much I try.
On terra firma I am sentenced to stay
Friends, can you just tell me why, can you say?

I crave to fly to the world beyond
My little world, just take a round
Of the globe which is mine to inhabit,
But only a minute bit to inherit.

Tell me friends, do you think it fair
That I must live here, not dream of going there
Without obtaining a paper permit,
Or my visit would be deemed “illegitimate”

Who gave us humans the power to say
Who comes on a visit and who may stay?
Why is it that we think it right
To shoo away some, who gave us that might?

God had already divided the earth,
And as HE did that He shook with mirth
As the land split and the oceans came
Our natural wanderlust to tame.

But then in HIS mercy HE gave us the power,
With intelligence and emotions HE did shower
Humans, so that aircrafts we may build
And visit each other as we willed.

But alas we used those mighty brains
To fight each other in a manner insane.
The power to love has gone to rust
Other races we do not trust.

We divide our homes, our land, our hearts,
Each inherits just a tiny part.
Don't come here, this is my land,
Any problem was caused by the foreign hand.

Why can't I just fly at will?
There is so much that I haven't seen still.
For me the very finest way to worship
Would be to make round the earth a trip.

For the earth is to me my God's creation,
HE did not intend its joys to ration.
HE wished me a path over the whole to trace
See all there is and HIS work with wonder praise.
HE is the creator of all seasons,
Of every beast, man and woman.
What right do we have to pray
When God's basic laws we disobey?

Folks, wake up! Listen to God's orders
Create a world without borders!
Please each other do tightly embrace
Live life fully, with perfect grace!

Wake up! This world to everyone belongs,
Everything in it including rights and wrongs.
Go everywhere that you were intended to go,
And in doing so, to the Creator bow!

And praise that eternal Magician,
Whose powers extend beyond human reason!
Be grateful for all that you have received,
And give up your ways so false and deceived!

That when you eventually get back HOME
After having the whole world roamed,
HE will welcome you back with open arms
And you can rest there forever, happy and calm
For an eternity at complete peace
And happiness at your Heavenly father's knees.
With all your siblings black, brown and white
Holding each other's hands, never again to fight.

The Buddha Replies

Why me she cries,
Why did it have to be my son?
He was so young and sprightly
His life had just begun.

Why he? Just what had he done?
To deserve an end, why not somebody else's son?
Master tell me, I have come to you
Seeking an answer to my question,
Who else can help me besides you?

You are the divine master
Enlightened and worldly wise
I know you can bring back
My dead son in a blink to life

Please do me this great favour
That my son's long life I may savour
Please Lord bring him back to life
For my sake and for his wife's

The Buddha listened silently
While the lady in grief shook violently
Dear Lady he said in a voice quiet and calm
Lady, calm down, I'll help you
His words worked like a balm

But if you will first fetch me some rice
From a home at any price
Where never a dear one was lost
I'll revive your son at any cost

The lady went from house to house
"Lady last week I lost my spouse"
"I lost my dear father"
"Yama took away my brother"

or"I lost last year my wife
What use my useless life"?
Plague took away my sister
Before life's joys had even touched her".

And so went on the mourning
Everyone under life's eternal strife groaning
To the master the lady at last returned
From every house having been spurned

She prostrated before the master
Very practically he had passed her
The wisdom of the worldly wise
By asking for a handful of rice

Death is the only certainty
In life there is no other guarantee
The wise therefore learn
Never for the unattainable to yearn

Life and death is a cycle
From birth to death we go full circle
Death is not life's end
But on the road just a bend

Every end has a beginning
Every beginning an end
It is to learn this eternal secret
That God us to earth has sent.

Once a Killer, Always a Killer

"Killing a mouse could get you 5 years " says the Times of India dated May 11, 2011. Hmm..... I can now safely say I think "and rightly so" when I read that headline. No creature deserves to be tortured the way lab animals are and put to death at the whim and fancy of any random scientistl. If humans have a right to life, so have animals. I am certainly pro-life and in favour of animal rights. I am no longer a researcher. So no reason I should be on the defensive.

Long ago shortly after the sun, moon and the stars came into existence, I had a brief fling with science and research. What I had to do for a living was not what I was entirely comfortable doing. There was a conflict between scientific practicality and human emotionality and sentimentality.

But late in the evening my smirk was wiped off my face . I was hauled over the coals  by a certain member of the medical fraternity for the cold blooded murder of a mouse which he treasured very greatly. It had been tortured badly and struggled and suffered at my hands before it gave up the ghost. The headlines in the newspaper flashed in my mind's eye. Mouse dragged along the floor by its tail, hit on the furniture mercilessly, sat on, dragged from the table to the floor before being put to death.

You have guessed it right. This was a mouse of a different species, not furry and white  as you may think with a pink nose and whiskers, but a black one, hard in texture as well as being a part of the hardware of dh's favourite companion - the computer. 

I can't help it if this mouse has a tail which is a few metres longer than its little body. I sit on my bed propped up against pillows working at the laptop. At 7 pm, my mom comes along and wants me to migrate to the front room to watch telly with her. But I can't bear to part with the laptop and with the Internet. So I get up, pick up my laptop and set off. I forget the mouse, which drags behind me, falls off the bed and then drags behind me a step or two before I realize what is going on and pick it up. After a couple of months of such torture, the mouse obviously breathed its last.

It was replaced by another mouse which was dug out from the drawer. But the old mouse did not have long to live. It was of course old. But fate had decreed that it would stop working only after I had laid hands on it. So finally today I was given an ultimatum this morning. If I tortured mice like this, I did not deserve to own one.

I have spent the whole day having vivid images of myself behind bars for the next 10 years - 2 X 5 = 10. Mercifully I was given a new mouse. I keep my fingers crossed and hope I treat this one better than the other ones. But I don't trust myself. Old habits as they say die hard. Once a mouse killer, always a mouse killer, no matter what the species. Yes, I have a dark secret - a skeleton in my cupboard you may say - I am a serial mouse killer.

So if I vanish off the radar, you know where I have vanished to. Meet you after 10 - 15 years! 

I Chose You My Dear (contd......) Part 4

GROWING UP TO THE TRUTH

Life was never the same after Tanya came home. She was the centre of attraction and everything she did was like some radically new achievement, which no other human in history had achieved before. Every milestone was faithfully captured on video by a doting father and cherished by a loving mother and grandparents. There was a virtual library of Tanya's life - her smiles, her laughter, her face smeared with cereal, the mischief in her eyes, her playing peek-a-boo with mommy, the first time she crawled, the first time she tried to stand, Tanya trying out her first waddling steps, .......

Shweta was over the moon when she said "ma-ma" for the first time. Daddy was a bit peeved that it was mamma first and not pappa. That too did not take too long in following. Grandpa was "da-da"and grandma was "da-di".

Every morning started out with Grandpa taking the dear granddaughter for a walk. She would look at the trees, flowers, listen to the chirping birds and coo in delight. Grandpa's heart would leap in ecstasy and he would look up proudly at little Tanya perched like an empress on his shoulders.

Life however was not without its ups and downs. Tanya had to pass through all the travails of childhood. Teething pains, tummy aches, no potty days, lack of appetite, fever, and the works. But we humans are a resilient lot and Tanya and family got over these trying times without much ado.

Months passed by and so did years. It was finally time to send Tanya to school. After facing all the travails that parents today face in the process, Tanya was admitted to "Sacred Hearts' Convent". The first day at school was traumatic. There was little Tanya in nursery with a lot of other wailing infants and there were all the mothers outside, some with tears flowing down their faces. After all this was a second cutting of the umbilical cord for most, but not for Shweta. For her, this was the very first time. She could not quite comprehend the idea of sending her baby away from her. But human resilience came to the rescue once again. Tanya got used to being away from momma for a few hours every day, had a few friends in her class and grew quite fond of "teacher aunty", who was her heroine. Everyday she would come home and lisp new nursery rhymes in the most attractive voice and Shweta's heart would fill up with pride.

Things went smoothly, till Tanya was in Std. III. It was then that a storm swept into Shweta's life and took away her peace for a while. As we saw, she was worried about Tanya's silence and withdrawn mien. When repeated efforts to get the matter out of her failed, she had to eventually take her to a paediatric psychiatrist. After a few sessions, during which the doctor had to work really hard to draw Tanya out of her shell, she had some information that came as a real shocker for Anil and Shweta. Tanya had somehow got to know that she was not their biological child. Some children in school (children can be pretty vicious) had teased her saying her parents did not love her, since she was not their own child.

Shweta and Anil had already been advised by the agency that they would eventually have to reveal the truth to Tanya. They had been waiting for an opportune time, when she was a bit older and in a position to understand. They had not, however, bargained for this.

That night, as she was getting Tanya into bed, Shweta without saying anything directly, told her a story of a little child who had been adopted. Tanya listened in silence. At the end, Shweta asked her, why she was looking so sad. The child blurted out "because the parents do not love the child". "What makes you say that"? asked Shweta. That was when the dam burst and the child sobbed out "Some children in my class said, you and daddy don't love me, because you brought me from an orphanage, They said, I am not your daughter". Tears of anger welled up in Shweta's eyes, and she said "Darling, those children are really stupid. Next time they say that to you, just tell them, their parents did not have any choice when they had them. You, my child are very precious to us. We chose you, because we loved you". The child was listening wide eyed. She finally gave Shweta her winsome smile and dropped off to sleep.

I Chose You My Dear (contd......) Part 4

GROWING UP TO THE TRUTH

Life was never the same after Tanya came home. She was the centre of attraction and everything she did was like some radically new achievement, which no other human in history had achieved before. Every milestone was faithfully captured on video by a doting father and cherished by a loving mother and grandparents. There was a virtual library of Tanya's life - her smiles, her laughter, her face smeared with cereal, the mischief in her eyes, her playing peek-a-boo with mommy, the first time she crawled, the first time she tried to stand, Tanya trying out her first waddling steps, .......

Shweta was over the moon when she said "ma-ma" for the first time. Daddy was a bit peeved that it was mamma first and not pappa. That too did not take too long in following. Grandpa was "da-da"and grandma was "da-di".

Every morning started out with Grandpa taking the dear granddaughter for a walk. She would look at the trees, flowers, listen to the chirping birds and coo in delight. Grandpa's heart would leap in ecstasy and he would look up proudly at little Tanya perched like an empress on his shoulders.

Life however was not without its ups and downs. Tanya had to pass through all the travails of childhood. Teething pains, tummy aches, no potty days, lack of appetite, fever, and the works. But we humans are a resilient lot and Tanya and family got over these trying times without much ado.

Months passed by and so did years. It was finally time to send Tanya to school. After facing all the travails that parents today face in the process, Tanya was admitted to "Sacred Hearts' Convent". The first day at school was traumatic. There was little Tanya in nursery with a lot of other wailing infants and there were all the mothers outside, some with tears flowing down their faces. After all this was a second cutting of the umbilical cord for most, but not for Shweta. For her, this was the very first time. She could not quite comprehend the idea of sending her baby away from her. But human resilience came to the rescue once again. Tanya got used to being away from momma for a few hours every day, had a few friends in her class and grew quite fond of "teacher aunty", who was her heroine. Everyday she would come home and lisp new nursery rhymes in the most attractive voice and Shweta's heart would fill up with pride.

Things went smoothly, till Tanya was in Std. III. It was then that a storm swept into Shweta's life and took away her peace for a while. As we saw, she was worried about Tanya's silence and withdrawn mien. When repeated efforts to get the matter out of her failed, she had to eventually take her to a paediatric psychiatrist. After a few sessions, during which the doctor had to work really hard to draw Tanya out of her shell, she had some information that came as a real shocker for Anil and Shweta. Tanya had somehow got to know that she was not their biological child. Some children in school (children can be pretty vicious) had teased her saying her parents did not love her, since she was not their own child.

Shweta and Anil had already been advised by the agency that they would eventually have to reveal the truth to Tanya. They had been waiting for an opportune time, when she was a bit older and in a position to understand. They had not, however, bargained for this.

That night, as she was getting Tanya into bed, Shweta without saying anything directly, told her a story of a little child who had been adopted. Tanya listened in silence. At the end, Shweta asked her, why she was looking so sad. The child blurted out "because the parents do not love the child". "What makes you say that"? asked Shweta. That was when the dam burst and the child sobbed out "Some children in my class said, you and daddy don't love me, because you brought me from an orphanage, They said, I am not your daughter". Tears of anger welled up in Shweta's eyes, and she said "Darling, those children are really stupid. Next time they say that to you, just tell them, their parents did not have any choice when they had them. You, my child are very precious to us. We chose you, because we loved you". The child was listening wide eyed. She finally gave Shweta her winsome smile and dropped off to sleep.

I Chose You My Dear (contd......) Part 3

TANYA COMES HOME

Thus it was that Anil and Shweta decided to adopt a girl child. Both were very socially conscious and they were fortunate to have their respective families' support.
It was the start of a long, excruciating wait and endless encounters with bureaucracy.

Firstly they had to go to an adoption agency and fill in endless forms with numerous columns pertaining to the minutest of their personal and family details. But then who ever said, bringing a child home is an easy process, irrespective of whether it is a biological child or an adopted one? After satisfying themselves that the potential parents were suitable on the face of it, the officials arrived at their place to interview other family members. It was essential for them to check out what kind of a family they were dealing with and whether the child would be welcome in their home. The interview went on for approximately half an hour. Then the officials went to counter check certain details about the family from a couple of neighbours, whom Anil and Shweta had named as references.

Next came the more crucial part, where Anil and Shweta had to give their specifications about the child they would like to adopt. These were recorded, but did not automatically guarantee that they would get a child satisfying all their preferences. Now came the really agonizing part of the wait. Both Anil and Shweta would sit and spend endless hours planning all that they would do with their child, what they would name her, which school she would go to and so on. Their parents would exchange amused looks, which would sometimes reflect a certain anxiety, wondering what would happen if things did not quite go just the way the youngsters had planned. Would they be able to deal with any more disappointments than what they had already been through? But they would just smile at Anil and Shweta in order to boost their confidence.

Days changed to weeks, weeks to months. Finally after 10 months, they got a call from the agency, stating that a child had been found for them and would they please come over next Tuesday to see her? Anil and Shweta's excitement knew no bounds. Every day and every night stretched endlessly and the wait could now only be described as excruciating. They had waited for 10 long months, but Tuesday seemed an age away.

Tuesday dawned bright and beautiful. Anil and Shweta were awake long before sunrise. Rather, one could say they had hardly slept. They were due to report at the agency by 11 a.m. Quite predictably they arrived around half an hour early. They paced up and down the waiting room and kept checking their watches and also the clock on the wall. At around 11.15 a.m. a peon came and signalled to them to go into the office. The officer in charge welcomed them in with a broad smile. What a contrast it was to all those previous occasions when they had dealt with all those stern looking, unfriiendly beaurocrats. The officer signalled the assistant to go and bring in the child. Both sat there holding their breaths and each other's hand. Eventually a child was brought in. Both Anil and Shweta looked up at her. There she was, a chubby baby, 6 months of age, with a mouth like a rosebud and huge dark eyes on her round face. Oh, didn't she just look gorgeous with those sweeping eyelashes and curly mop of hair? Shweta's eyes welled with tears. She held out her hands to the child, and as if on cue, as if they had known each other all along the child jumped into Shweta's arms. Shweta could not stop herself from hugging the child tight and burying her face into the little bundle. All those years of waiting and agonizing just melted away and here she was, holding her very own baby. Anil looked on impassively and reached out awkwardly to touch her.

After completing some more formalities, the family of 3 - father, mother and child left to go home. It was a strange feeling - one of being complete and a real family at last. They arrived home to a rousing welcome. Grandpa and Grandma had decorated the house and welcomed home little Tanya with a traditional "aarti". There was a lot of celebration that day, and nobody could bring themselves to get on with any work. Everyone wanted to spend time with Tanya. She had finally arrived home.

I Chose You My Dear (contd......) Part 2

LOOKING FOR SOLUTIONS

Anil and Shweta looked around nervously. The room had a very cheerful, friendly look. It was freshly painted in a pleasant shade of light pink. On the walls were pictures of plump, cuddly babies of various ages and races. All of them looked so cute and roly-poly. Looking at them, Shweta felt a twinge of pain. On another wall was a chart showing a foetus in the mother's womb. All around were arrows sticking out with legends against them explaining the anatomy and physiology of pregnancy. There was one more chart showing a woman with a foetus in her womb at various stages of pregnancy.

Dr. Aparna was a pleasant, matronly looking woman of around 40 or 45 years of age. She looked very well groomed with her hair in a rather severe knot and not a hair out of place. She looked exceedingly fresh considering she had had a particularly heavy day, during which she had performed a couple of hysterectomies, a few D&Cs and supervised the arrival of a baby or two into this world. Well, it was not for nothing that she was highly popular and had a roaring practice.

After a few preliminaries and history taking, Dr. Aparna asked to examine Shweta. 15 minutes later, she declared that Shweta was apparently quite healthy. There were no obvious problems and she would have to perform some more checks on her, requiring more complicated procedures, before she could say anything for sure. However, she would first like Anil to undergo tests to determine whether there was any problem with him. Anil squirmed at the thought, but finally acquiesced.

Next day, Anil went to a pathological lab and submitted his semen for testing. The results were expected that evening. At work, neither Anil nor Shweta said a word about this and there was an uncomfortable silence between the two. Shweta did not want to talk to Anil, as she was scared of him when he was in an irritable mood.

Evening came and Anil's report showed that his sperm count was very low. This did not do much to improve his mood. Next day, they went back to Dr. Aparna's office. After studying the report, she appraised the couple of all their various options with all the pros and cons. They heard her out, and promised to be back after discussing the matter with their family.

Back home, neither could eat too well. After dinner a conference was once again adjourned in their parents' room. After much discussion, it was decided that adoption was the best way out for them. This way, any embarassing, time consuming and expensive procedures would be avoided. Besides the biggest advantage would be that a homeless, orphaned child would get a loving family and parents, and Anil and Shweta would be proud parents of a child they desired with all their hearts.

I Chose You My Dear

This is a story on adoption written in 4 parts.  Shall post each episode one by one.  Looking forward to your responses.

THE UPS AND DOWNS OF LIFE

Shweta was very worried. Her daughter Tanya was behaving rather strangely over the last one week. She was rather moody and tended to cry rather easily. What was the matter with her - a child who was normally happy, cheerful and playful? She had asked Tanya many times, but all she got in reply was silence. She had checked her temperature, but that was normal. So what could the problem be?

Her mind flashed back to the early years of her marriage.. She had married Anil after a whirlwind romance. Both families had accepted the marriage very graciously and happily. The wedding was followed by a honeymoon in Mauritius. After a week of holidaying and spending every precious moment exclusively in each other's company, they returned home and started settling down into a routine. Anil was an architect with a successful practice of his own. Shweta was an interior designer and was a partner in Anil's business.

Life settled into a predictable routine. Since they lived in a large joint family with Anil's grandparents, uncle and his family and parents, there was not much of a problem. They were a family of professionals and as behooves professionals, each one of them had their own jobs cut out. The household ran on well-oiled wheels with minimum friction. This also left the women in the household with enough time to follow their own chosen professions without being sapped of energy, looking after work and home. They had a couple of servants and a cook, who were supervised by Anil's mom and aunt. Life seemed idyllic.

However, this Utopian existence was too good to be true. It is an unwritten law of nature, that all who come onto this earth have to face some problem or the other - no exceptions, no favourite children of Mother Destiny. So, it was that 2 - 3 years passed by, but there was no sign of any offspring arriving to grace Anil and Shweta's life.

It was getting iincreasingly embarassing and difficult for the two to face endless questions from well-meaning but insensitive relatives and friends - initially in a bantering tone, and later persistently - when they planned to give them some "good news". This would be followed up with advice over the inadvisability of postponing having a child for too long. This constant intrusion from outsiders started creating tensions between husband and wife. There was an ever increasing number of fights and the intensity of these fights was also getting more serious. Eventually Anil's parents, who were silent spectators to start with, started to get rather worried at the visible strain in the young couple's relationship.

Finally, one day after coming to a consensus between themselves, Anil's parents decided that it was now time for them to step in and do something about the problem. That night, after dinner, they invited Anil and Shweta to accompany them to their room for a chat. After some pleasantries, and a brief awkward silence, they brought up the topic of the problem. After some hesitation and reluctance on Anil's part, it was decided that both Shweta and Anil should consult a gynaeecologist. Next day an appointment was made for that evening.

The day dragged by and Anil and Shweta were very stressed and restless. Eventually they found themselves waiting in the gynaecologist's (Dr. Aparna Anand) waiting room. Shweta's hands were damp with sweat as she looked around at the waiting women, some in advanced stages of pregnancy. She could not help feel a twinge of envy and anger at the idea that God could be so unjust to them. Anil, on the other hand, hid his face behind a copy of "India Today". He was clearly feeling awkward and out of place in this environment. After a wait of around half an hour, Shweta and Anil were ushered into Dr. Aparna's office.

Help I'm Going Nuts

"So what's new about that? Where is the question of going nuts? We all knew you are already confirmed, raving, hooting crazy and just humour you out of the milk of our human kindness" did I hear you say?

Please, please, please don't say anything about "milk"  and I think I should refrain from the word "nuts" too. Every morning I wish I could crawl back under my blanket and remain safely ensconced from all the harm and damage that food and air could do to me. DH was threatening the other day to have me shipped to the nearest loony bin if I continue this way and keep being paranoid about everything in my environment.

Tell me, what else could any sane person do? First thing in the morning you have a cup of coffee in your hands and a newspaper in the other. The newspaper does not bring any good tidings and what's more it brings some horrendous news. It tells you that you should go and chuck that cup of milky coffee down the closest sink. It is full of hormones and antibiotics that were fed to the cows and if you drink that milk, you will soon start resembling one . I decide this paper is no good and switch to the other. The other one tells me that unless I eliminate the coffee completely and drink the milk neat - maybe upto 4 cups a day - my bones will be seriously unhappy with my attitude and take me to task . Which paper do I listen to ?

Come lunch time and I am faced with another dilemma - veggies. They have chemicals sprayed on them and some of them liked the taste of the pesticides and soaked them in completely (to stave off pests like me, who love to eat them up at the least provocation). So now if I eat those vegetables, then I might land up being eliminated. I took care to buy the most attractive looking carrots on the market the other day, only to be told that dyes are being injected to make them look colourful and attractive. So I can't eat them. And if I buy organic stuff, then I run a serious risk of ingesting some parasitic cysts and may land up with cysticercosis (parasitic cysts lodging in my brain and gnawing away at whatever little of it is left, bit by bit). The proverbial choice between the devil and the deep sea, or between the rock and the hard place or Hobson's choice (at least I am giving you so many choices here - something that is entirely denied to me these days). 

Now white rice, which I love is not a good choice, or so I am given to believe. In fact eating rice will make me fat - so the dietician at the nearest health spa tells me. I may eat only fruits and veggies, which takes me back full circle to where I started off. 

Eggs could cause salmonellosis, contained devastating amounts of bad cholesterol and were bad for the health . But this week, their cholesterol content decreased and are at latest count indeed very good for the health. Suddenly this week the Vit D content of eggs has also increased . I wonder if the NECC (National Eggs Coordination Committee) or the Venkateshwara Hatcheries have anything to do with these new improved eggs!  . 

By the way, wasn't alcohol supposed to be injurious to the health? Yes, indeed, until the French secret of healthy, active and loving hearts was traced back to all the red wine they drink. No wonder we were told it was not good for health. The French wanted to reserve all the wine for themselves.

But hold on, alcohol was also known to be the cure for all sorrows, until last week, when it was decided it increased one's sorrows.

Hey, you scientists out there! Can you make up your minds once and for all? Why the hell do you not keep your research to yourselves? Oh yes, unless you publish your findings and send the unsuspecting public on a roller coaster spin, you don't get paid, do you? That is why I gave up this profession and vowed not only to live happily ever after but (as far as I am concerned) to let the general public do the same. But I should have done more. I should first have discovered a selective bomb to wipe out all researchers, quit my research career (I have to foolproof my safety you see) and then hurled the bomb at the remaining scientists.

Adding Insult to Injury - Labelling a Problem Psychosomatic

Ms. Sharma walks into the doctor's office.  She is around 18 years old.  She has been having a lot of aches and pains in her back.  The doctor (the family doctor) who has been looking after the family since she was around 5, examines her and prescribes some mild pain killers.  She takes them.  The problem repeats itself after some time.  The same routine follows.  This happens time and again.  The doctor tells her some exercises for her back.  She does them, but the pain persists.  The doctor asks her to get some X-Rays done.  Nothing abnormal shows up.  

So next time Ms. Sharma comes back with the complaint, she is told it is psychosomatic - it is in her mind.  She is probably stressed out about something and hence her muscles are in spasm.

Ms. Sharma is unhappy.  She smarts under the verdict that it is all in her mind.  She finds it unfair that she has to suffer the pain and on top of that be told that there is nothing wrong.  Could it be possible that the X-Ray was not properly read?  Is there something that is not showing up on the film?  It makes her feel like she is being labelled a hypochondriac.

The years go by.   By the time she reaches the age of  36 - 37, she finds herself occasionally getting locked when she lies down.  She is unable to turn to her side or get up.  There is no pain as such, except the usual muscular pain.  Within a couple of minutes, she is slowly able to turn and get herself up.  She is now up and back to her usual self.  She forgets about the episode.  It repeats itself a couple of times.  Each time, she gets up and gets down to business.  CTs and MRIs do not show any problem.

After a few years, she starts to feel a pain at one point on one side of her spine.  Turning to that side is painful.  The pain varies in intensity from day to day.  Sometimes the pain is more intense at other times.  CTs and MRIs when repeated still show nothing.  So she ignores the pain.  She has learnt to shut up and carry on - she does not want to be told again that it is all in her mind.  She does not want anyone to think she wants an excuse to shirk work.  She still carries on with her normal activities.  She is a very busy person who flits from one office to another - she is a consultant.  She normally goes everywhere on her scooter.  One day when going down the stairs in a bit of a hurry, she misses a step and slips down, landing on her back on the landing.  She gets up and manages to carry on with her work.  But it has come as a bit of a shock.  She also has a few falls from her scooter when she is knocked down by some other vehicle, pushed to the edge of the road onto a pile of sand by a speeding bus and so on.  

Gradually her pain increases and starts to spread round the hip.  Then it spreads down the leg.  It becomes increasingly difficult for her to manage her work with the pain.  Her work involves a lot of standing and sitting for long hours every day.  Eventually one MRI shows that she has a condition where the joints in her spine are wearing out.  That is causing pressure on the nerves and hence the radiating pain.  She tries to manage with that for a couple of years.  Following a few smaller procedures which do not give any significant relief, she has to go in for a surgery.  

The question is this.  Did she have something when she was younger, when X-Rays showed nothing?  How could they have been expected to, when even CTs and MRIs took so long to reveal the problem?  Once the problem was revealed, it was at the same spot where she was complaining about the pain.  So was that her imagination?  Was her habit of worrying causing pain at a site where a problem would be detected later on in life?  Was it a fair judgement when she was told it was psychosomatic?

While accepting that there might be conditions which may be psychosomatic, one has to accept that modern medicine and technology have their own limitations.  Just because one is unable to detect a problem, does not mean there is no real basis for the pain - that it is all in the mind.

How many patients suffer like this?  OK, no one is blaming the medical profession for not being able to help her.  That is the state of the art and one has to accept that.  But the least one can do is to give the benefit of the doubt and spare a person who is already in pain from such damning and mortifying judgements, and be a bit more compassionate  That is all one asks for..