eVincere...a medico's musings

Priceless Onam

2025-09-06T10:31:00.002+05:30

For one reason or another, having Onasadya at home had become a distant memory. I would often sit helplessly, watching the family enjoy their feast over lunchtime video calls. It’s not that sadya or Onam are rare in the UK—with so many Malayalees around, there’s no shortage of celebrations—but nothing compares to sharing the meal with parents. As the old Mastercard ads used to say, “There are some things money can’t buy.”

This year, though, we finally got the chance to celebrate Onam at home. My lady insisted on a family picture in traditional attire (though the fashion diva herself went for a Rajasthani saree—one world, no borders!). I tried to push the idea to next year—there’s always that selfish part of me imagining an improved fitness routine leading me toward the six-pack hero from the Pardesiya song. But then came her vajrayudha: “I’ve been saying this for a while, and see, Amma isn’t here anymore.”

Achan, to my surprise, was completely compliant—after all, apart from the 70s, the only other time he wore a proper traditional mundu was for my wedding!

Long story short: it turned out to be the best Onam I’ve had in years.

The Taste of Rajinikanth

2025-08-19T01:10:00.003+05:30

Basha might have been the first Rajini movie I ever watched. It took me almost an entire evening and most of the night to finish it, thanks to the endless TV ads that popped up every few minutes. They were annoying enough that Amma gave up on the film much earlier. Rajinikanth movies, if I remember correctly, used to be a Diwali exclusive on Sun TV. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say I often preferred watching him on screen to bursting firecrackers with my family! My vocabulary back then wasn’t rich enough to know words like swag, but I was already hooked on his presence.

For someone who smirked at others’ film reviews and proudly declared himself a critic even as a child, I always suspended judgment when it came to Rajini. His larger-than-life aura and thunderous dialogues silenced the nitpicker in me—I’d just sit back, wide-eyed, pestering my cousin to translate the Tamil lines I didn’t understand.

Watching a movie is a personal experience, much like enjoying food—don’t let others’ opinions ruin it. Taste buds differ. I still remember queuing up to buy Hyderabadi biriyani from a “highly recommended” hotel during my college tour, only to realise it was nowhere close to the chicken biriyani (sans egg!) that Supreme Bakers back home in Kollam served.

Of course, there were a few Rajini films I couldn’t last through, but long story short—now that I’ve started living a solitary life in Cardiff (thanks to training-related hospital rotations), watching yet another Rajini movie, first day first show, brought back a flood of childhood memories. Clichés and plot holes aside—critics may devour Coolie—Rajinikanth was a feast to watch on the big screen. That said, films like Petta, Jailer, and Kaala were far more fulfilling for me as a fan boy.

Movies, like biriyani, are best judged by your own palate—and Rajini, to me, has always been that unbeatable Supreme Bakers’ chicken biriyani.

Wedding anniversary:Today, she’s still here. And she’s everything.

2025-07-25T15:13:00.005+05:30

30th June marked 12 years since we got married.

Life has never been easy — nothing certain, nothing predictable. But through all the chaos, she’s been the one constant.

We’ve faced more than our share of twists and turns, and the road’s been anything but smooth — yet somehow, we’ve held the wheel together. Twelve years in, she still hasn’t run away.

If anything, she’s the one who fights tooth and nail to make sure I get where I want to go. She didn’t just stay in the story — she made it worth reading.

I’ve always lived in my own dream world, often finding myself limited to a very particular set of skills — skills I’ve acquired over a long career (though definitely not the kind Liam Neeson had in Taken). And because of that, I’ve always needed someone to look out for me — to fill in the gaps I couldn’t see.

Losing Amma four years ago left me defenceless in more ways than I expected. That’s when she truly became my guardian angel — my fiercest protector, or as she lovingly calls herself, my emotional support bird.

We’ve loved each other from the very beginning — back when I was a clueless 26-year-old with more ego than wisdom, and she already carried a calm strength I’m still learning from. Time passed, and through it all, she stayed.

Today, she’s still here. And she’s everything.

Vishukkani in a Foreign Dawn

2025-04-14T13:03:00.004+05:30

As I woke up today, my phone’s gallery threw back a photo taken on this very day, five years ago—when most of us were asked to Stay Home, Protect the NHS, and Save Lives. Having moved to the UK, for the past five years, my daily Vishukkani has been my beautiful better half—except on days when one of us was on a night shift! She’s been my world for the past twelve years, and during the Covid era, she even became my personal hair stylist.

Growing up alongside a genuinely devout Amma and an ‘almost atheist’ Achan, I guess I could be branded a ‘neutral Hindu’. Without the slightest disapproval, Achan would always buy flowers to help arrange the Vishukkani, and it would always be there to greet me each year on this auspicious day. Though our display was never as vibrant or elaborate as those in other Malayali households, Amma would still wake me up and gently guide me to the Kani. It would brighten my heart (and indeed, fatten my wallet by the end of the day with all the kaineettams).

Amma isn’t here anymore, and Achan is 17 hours of flight away — but the memories stay, always.

Wishing all my dear ones a Vishu filled with light and love.

For those wondering what on earth is Vishu, Vishukkani and Kaineettam:

Vishu: A traditional Hindu festival, like Kerala’s version of New Year’s Day, mixed with Thanksgiving vibes.

Vishukkani: A beautifully arranged display of auspicious items, set up the night before and meant to be the first thing one sees on waking.

Kaineettam: A custom where elders give money to younger members of the family as a form of blessing and to wish them prosperity for the year ahead. (Not sure if Gen Z has QR codes for this now!)

Superhero? Nah, Just the Anaesthetist

2025-04-13T23:49:00.004+05:30

I was walking back after doing a pre-op assessment on a patient in the ward when a voice from the opposite bed rang out:

“Doctor… doctor, please come!”

Before I could even turn around, a healthcare assistant from the corner jumped in — trying to save me from the chaos — and shouted,

“No no, he’s not a doctor… he’s an anaesthetist!”

While I generally prefer to stay invisible, I wasn’t sure whether to thank her… or update my CV.