As some of you might know, I am a general medical practitioner by profession. My patients are mostly of a poor class and poorly literate. But they are beneficiary to me in many ways. They give me reason to think on various subjects and thus encourage my mind to write on those topics. That way my patients are promoting me to be a writer. My working day consist four different kinds of work, medical, household, educational and writing. So you can say I am living four different kinds of lives at one time. I do my medical practice for six hours in two divided shifts of morning and evening. I look after my daughter’s school and tuition at least twice a day, five days a week. I visit vegetable marts, flour factory, different tailors of my wife and daughter or a laundry shop, any one place, every alternate day. Besides I look after my flat’s patio garden, our common garden, our liftman, our security person, our sweeper, as lazy residents of my apartment opted me as their ‘Chairman’ of the society, so they can live and sleep in peace, burden free. Then there is a walk for an hour to clean my coronaries.
In between these, I log in to the internet, four times a day mainly at Red room. In fact red room is a place of vent for me after exhausted daily life. I feel like I am in ‘Californian cafeteria’ with friends. Here my main precious work takes place. I read different blogs, reply, comment, write blogs. This monotonous looking daily work is my ‘worship’ since last one year. Besides I am writing stories and collections of events for a book I want to publish. I am not sure who in this ocean of literary world is eager to read my book, but I am confident to make it one day. My ultimate dream.
Some time I think, ‘what difference it will bring to my life or my society, if I became a published writer?’ And what will I gain from it? Will it be beneficiary to my poor patients in any way? Will poor Geeta’s husband stop beating her after being drunk? Will Jaju ben’s chronic asthma get cured? Will beggar children I see daily on cross roads have enough food to quit begging? Will security man Girish afford a new pullover in this winter? Will my country’s politicians stop fooling us? Will big nations stop pressurizing poor countries in the name of nuclear weapon and pollution issues? Will human in home and animal in forest feel safe?
I don’t think any thing above will happen if I become a writer, a published writer. So what I am working for? Am I fooling myself by pampering my feelings?
Answer is big ‘NO’.
My work is my ‘Karma’, the karma for which I am sent here by Unknown.
Karma, ‘the work’ is the only thing I can do to justify my being alive, my existence.
So I am doing it, without thinking of result, positive or a negative one. Let my work be a festival for me and others around me, a cause for joy and gratitude.