Candle in the wind

IN the sleepy town of Chenganacherry in Kerala, bruised after a fist- fight with my cousins, I made the first of several trips to the dark and gloomy interiors of the hospital nearby. The cheery welcome I received from the nurses was a balm for my wounded ego and badly bruised knees. Their hands dexterously bandaged the wound, while their kind words smoothed the furrow that knit my brow.

They illumined the sobriety that shrouded the surroundings and brightened my dark day. As I tripped outside, ready to take on the world, I looked back in awe at those who so quickly were able to dispel gloom and pain.

Childhood gave me scope to play out my fantasies. Not one to be left behind, I climbed trees with my siblings even as I snatched time to tend to people I imagined to be sick and nursed to health. My parents were strict disciplinarians, and I had no option but to excel in academics. Pragmatic and progressive though they were, they nudged me to fall in line with acceptable professions in our community- medicine or engineering. Better sense however prevailed and they allowed me to follow the bidding of my heart.

Tearing myself away from hearth and home, kith and kin I spent three long and lonely years grappling with the intricacies of nursing at Lissie Hospital, Ernakulam. As I briskly marched along the corridors of the hospital, the visible relief etched on the faces of the patients often made me forget my own mundane troubles. Tired and in pain, they required a shot in the arm which was my calling, and duty to provide. Finally, armed with a degree, determined to make a difference I began my career and there's never been time to look back or regret.

Moving to a new city and coping with the pressures of a new job at Apollo Hospital, for a small town girl with a distinct Malayee accent was a real challenge. The job was demanding but that didn't rob me of my enthusiasm or commitment. In a world where self-aggrandisement is the order of the day, I wondered whether my belief in service before self would ever pay. However, I feel I have an edge over the self-seekers, as I doubt they would ever be able to quantify the joy and succour I bring to people's lives.

Marriage is an eventuality that I certainly could not circumvent. After considerable thought, I gave in to the inevitable. Days whizzed past as I was elevated to oversee the nursing function of one of the largest hospitals in Asia, and juggled the pressures of work and home.

If this wasn't bad enough, the joys of motherhood that soon followed complicated matters. Having to fit in night shifts, while ensuring that I didn't miss out on the milestones of my children was no mean feat.

Not always smooth sailing; putting up with crotchety colleagues, demanding patients and tight schedules did upset my rhythm. My unimpeachable motive to ``give'' rather than ``get'' has helped me get through troubled waters. The profession however did allow me to leave footprints in the sands of time, at least in the minds of the hopeless and the helpless alike.

I still continue to work with the same passion and missionary zeal, albeit on a smaller scale. Now, I find delight in serving the community through a small dispensary, seeking to bind wounds and bond with the less fortunate with the help of my supportive husband.

The children have done well for themselves and flown the coop. It certainly has been a fruitful and fulfilling innings.

ALEYAMMA JACOB