THE MASTER
"This is the first key hole interventional operation ever done in this hospital. In 1986, it probably was the first in the country too." said the Master as he peered through the glass doors of the operating theatre, instructing a younger group of doctors whilst they performed the similar delicate operation in the fall of 1996.
He had been a resident in the department for 3 months. But the master had not yet acknowledged his presence.
These were the Master's first words directed towards him.
He was busy filling out a 'follow up' card. One of the duties of the junior doctor, was to check up on the operated patients well being during their daily rounds and enter those on this card.
That night the junior doctor read extensively on 'IVC interventional ballon angioplasty'. He assesed the disease profile, tabled the pros and cons of treatment, categorised treatment options and reviewed the recent publications.
At the following morning early 8 am meeting, he presented his work. Everyone was impressed with his dedication and hard work. They questioned and cross questioned him on many medical aspects. And he confronted them head on, just like how Bajiprabhu Deshpande would have repelled any attacks on Shivaji in Pawankhind.
With slanting eyes, he looked at the Master, who had been quiet over the last 45 minutes of his presentation.
He had not tested him nor had he applauded.
The Master was the first to get up and leave.
He paused as he opened the door and simply asked, " How is Pandurang Keni?".
The proud feeling in his heart was suddenly replaced by a hollow feeling in his stomach.
He ran to the ward to check up on the patient. He was glad to see Pandurang Keni still in bed.
Pandurang had sustained internal bleeding overnight, deep within the operative site.
The Master during his late evening rounds had managed to stop the bleeding.
That was his first lesson.
The patient's well being was above any deep profound knowledge.
Over the years ' followup cards' were replaced by electronic entries, but the basic concept of patient care remained ingrained in him forever.
The Master was easily recognisable. Just over 6 feet tall, his frame was slim like a sugarcane, always clean shaven, large square glasses adorned a rectangular face, piercing eyes which always seemed to gaze into the future, well oiled hair and above all a distinctively clear voice with a nasal twang which carried a heavy southern Indian accent.
No one had ever seen him wear anything apart from a blue grey, checkered half shirt and grey trousers.
No one had seen the shirt ever tucked in, nor had anyone seen him in a suit or a tie.
Their second encounter was exactly 2 months later.
The junior doctor had given the Master the feedback on patients recovery.
" I promise to work hard. I will spend 12 hours of my day everyday, learning about the diseases, the techniques but I will never let go sight of the patients needs", he said to the master. "I hope over the next 3 years, that i am here, I gain some knowledge ."
"3 years is too short a time", his Master replied. Still his gaze was in the distant faraway.
"If you carry on with that routine, you may be knowledgeable over the next 20 years.
Use yours and others knowledge to become wise.
For though you may acquire knowledge,
Wisdom may not come over your lifetime ."
The Master reminded him of the Zen.
A cup can only fill, if it is empty.
We have to devoid ourselves of our preconceived ideas and notions.
We are ready to receive new concepts, only if we start afresh on a blank canvas.
That was his second lesson.
Over the next few months the conversations became more frequent.
The junior doctor was now a senior resident.
His advise was sought. His skills were sharpened. His views were listened to.
He had been working on his thesis on the lining of the blood vessels and their behaviour in diseases.
"I find the role of endothelium very dull and uninteresting. It is not a dynamic science. Lot of, so called facts, are actually hypothesis. ", he could freely express his views to the Master.
Unlike their first encounter, the inhibition and apprehension had made way to more frank discussions.
" This phase will pass....., " the Master replied, his eyes looking far beyond the present predicament.
His thesis was now ready for submission. He knocked and entered Masters office to give it to him for proof reading.
" It's amazing how the human blood vessels follow the same pattern like those of animals during development," he said excitedly to the Master and went on to explain the patterns of development of the complex network of blood vessels.
" This phase will pass.....," the Master's gaze as ever looked beyond the thesis.
He had forgotten how many lessons he had learnt from the Master. But, that wisdom was not to be found in any text books or journals.
Saturday afternoon was when the Master taught the resident doctors. Juniors- seniors alike.
The most junior would present the medical problem with explanation and the seniors would elaborate on it.
" We should change the way we teach," he said as they were sipped the adrak chai outside the staff canteen. He was now a senior Lecturer.
"We should ask the senior residents to present the medical problem and the solution, so the juniors learn from them", he suggested.
That Friday was a presentation on management of gastric bleeding. The senior Lecturer invited the senior most registrar to come forward.
To his amazement, the Master got up and put forward his views on the disease and treatment strategy.
"One should become the change ,
One wishes to see in other's," were the Master's words.
Over the years, he had earned acclaim. His understanding of the blood vessels in the human body was unparalleled. He could solve many treacherous problems.
That evening he had received an email, requesting consultation about of a 4 year old girl from Indore. The blood vessels in her liver were blocked.
He was asked to perform
'IVC balloon angioplasty ', the same procedure which was first performed in that institution in 1986.
" History repeats! ", he said to the Master, who had come for the inauguration of the new operating theatre in which the operation on the 4 year old girl was about to happen.
"We get referrals from all corners of the country and abroad too", he was showing the CT scans of the girl to the Master. "This insitution is like a magnet, attracting complex problems towards it.
It's like they are bound to come here".
"When one flies a kite,
We get impressed with our skills of reaching high altitude and manouveres.
The string holding us with the kite is not permanent.
Today it's in ours,
Tomorrow it will be in someone else's", was Masters final 'Master stroke' lesson to him.
Next day Master suffered a severe stroke and transgressed across an undefined boundary.
But,
Now he 'knew',
'Master' was not just a human body of teachings.
'Master' was a sublime wisdom which had now transgressed across into him.
No one knows why the new operating theatre is named
'Pandurang Keni Theatre'.
Superficially, he was a patient.
But deep within,
he encompassed
The 'Master Wisdom...'