We were having one of our ‘long days’: regular classes till 2:30, then evening Emergency from 6 to 9. We had to stay in university all day, the hostel food was tasteless, we hated missing our afternoon nap and having to set up a temporary abode in the rooms of hostel friends; knowing that despite their reassurances, we were a disruption, a warp in their normal life. Laughter was the only way we could make...
It is very difficult to write something as a Final Year student and not be nostalgic about the never-to-return moments of your college life. But more so, there is a tendency to glorify the experience: to chop off the unpleasant parts and stich up the remnants to create memories of idyllic times. We are, after all, humans; suppression, repression, denial are part of our programming. The truth of the matter is: KE life sucks a...
"Okay! I've had enough of it now!! I'm gonna nail the next one!", I vowed after failing (yet) another test.... I keep pondering over the fact but i don't really get as to what exactly went wrong with me as soon as i got into KEMU .... (and no! it's not love:p). Reaching the farthest point where my memory can take me, I do arrive at a stage where I was (to say the least)...
When you get out of difficult situations by proclaiming,"I am a doctor!"How many times have you done that?You get into trouble, need to evade a probing question, want to hurry up a que, or just want someone to stop bothering you and shut up, you restore to your one and only, all-powerful, no-nonsense argument of all time----“ I am a doctor!” dear reader, if you haven't done that even once there is something seriously wrong...
Ok… we’ve all been through this. You’re either dreamily gazing out of the classroom window, or lost in thoughts of yesterday night’s American idol contestants, or doodling on that blank page in front of you, or maybe just worried that your tummy- craving for your daily al-Kareem shawarma- might grumble loud enough for the girl in the next seat to suspect the obvious, that WHAM! KABOOM! Yes…with apologies… you’ve just been shot a question by...
“So tell me, how’s KE?” asked a friend some time after my admission into the university. Poor guy! He didn’t know I was a pin-less grenade just waiting to explode. “It’s hell! The volume of the curriculum is staggering, the grossly undersized lecture-theatres are mind-boiling in summers and there are some 250 people in my class. (250 MAN!!! Add a million to it and that’s how old the Earth’s magnetic field is!!!) And then there...
Normal 0 false false false MicrosoftInternetExplorer4 /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} I never wanted to become a doctor. I never wanted to come to King Edward. And I most definitely never wanted to interact with weird people like the patient on my bed number 7: If I’d seen him coming my way on the sidewalk,...
From the 5 years spent in a med school, of course it's the final one that you're going to remember the most. Like a bumper-sticker, it'll be pasted upon your rear-ends. Perhaps forever. I guess it's the fortnight everyone calls 'MATERNITY' that'll shine like a gaudy neon light over your memoirs. Your first live birth (Awww!); your first placenta (Ewww!); your first rude awakening by a junior nurse/staff on rupturing 13 veins in a screaming...
