By Dr. K. Javeed Nayeem

The first part of the title of this article, as is most certainly known to almost all my readers, is actually the title of a very famous historical novel penned by Charles Dickens, published in the year 1859, set in London and Paris, before and during the French Revolution which came to be known as ‘The Reign of Terror.’

It tells a very poignant story of love, sacrifice and redemption, against the backdrop of the turbulent historical events of the time.  It focuses on two look-alike characters who are both in love with the same woman. While one marries her, the other, in the true style of a true and selfless lover, eventually gives his life to save her husband’s life years later.

In a most absorbing narration, the tragic story explores the themes of sacrificial love, revenge and forgiveness. But mind you, the similarity in the title of what Dickens has written then and what I am writing now, a full hundred and sixty years later, ends here! The times and things he has written about then and the times and things I am writing about now, are completely unrelated although not dissimilar.

I am only using his title for impact, secure in the knowledge that with Dickens long gone, I would certainly be safe from any legal hurdles or consequences, of the kind that such acts are prone to attract!

The times then were turbulent in France and the times now too are indeed very turbulent, across the entire world. Exactly like actors on stage in a play, as completely helpless inhabitants of this earth, destined to live here and share our living space, just for what you can call the ‘blinking of an eye’ in a historical time-frame, we can only hope and pray that we have the good sense to strive for it and hope against hope that elusive peace, will eventually prevail!

It is perhaps for times like these that the Persian Sufi poet, Rumi has said: “Since life itself is as brief as a half-taken breath, let’s preach only love!” Yes, there’s just no time for any other kind of preaching.

It is very interesting and pertinent to note that Dickens opens his novel with a sentence that has become very famous and iconic: ‘It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way —in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.’

Why I have chosen to render this certainly very long sentence in full here, is only because I want the impact of his words to inspire the people of our time, especially the youngsters, who have not yet read Dickens, to read his works and relish what can be called very delightful reading. Although enjoying reading, which is often considered laborious, certainly is an acquired taste, they will most certainly acquire it and enjoy it too, for the rest of their lifetimes, if only they go along with a little perseverance. After that, believe me, it is bound to be a roller-coaster ride!

And, to make this process easier and less painful, they can always start by reading the easily available and much abridged and simplified versions of the classics, which would otherwise seem very daunting. That is exactly what I did as a fledgeling reader. The two cities that I am writing about today are faraway London and our own Mysuru and the only two things I am talking of are the two iconic clocks that have been standing in their respective places over the ages.

Starting with London, The Big Ben that stands there, is undisputably the most iconic and most well-known clock in the world. It has been marking the passage of time since the year 1859, which by a quirky coincidence, was the year Dickens penned his magnum opus!

Strictly speaking, the name Big Ben, refers only to the actual bronze bell weighing 15.1 tons that peals every hour, but it is commonly associated with the whole clock tower at the northern end of the Houses of Parliament. The tower itself was formally known as St. Stephen’s Tower until 2012, when it was renamed Elizabeth Tower on the occasion of Queen Elizabeth II’s Diamond Jubilee celebrating 60 years on the British throne.

Here too in the heart of Mysuru we have our most iconic clock tower that has been marking the passage of time, albeit with a few pauses from time to time, since the year 1927  when it was erected to mark the Silver Jubilee of the rule of one of our most illustrious Maharajas, H.H. Sri Krishnaraja Wadiyar IV. There’s nothing dishonourable that there were a few pauses in its ticking because like any other man-made machine, it needed periodic attention to keep it ticking.

And this resting and restoration period is exactly what it is going through right now. A Detailed Project Report (DPR) for the restoration of the clock tower had been prepared by the Department of Archaeology, Museums and Heritage while the Mysuru City Corporation (MCC) will take up the work at a cost of Rs. 41 lakh under the supervision of members of the Mysuru District Heritage Conservation Committee. The imposing, 75-feet-tall structure, overlooking the equally imposing Rangacharlu Memorial Town Hall, had developed cracks in the dome while some of the decorative features in the canopy atop the structure had fallen off. It appears that the steps inside the structure leading to the dome too have been damaged.

Though the clock was ticking and telling us all the correct time, the bell of French origin, had fallen silent since the last 20 years. It is not very clear whether it stopped striking on its own or was silenced to prevent further damage to the ageing tower but its restoration too is on the cards. But the experts still seem to be in some confusion whether its loud booming peal and the consequent hourly vibration, will start damaging the tower once again.

So, some citizens are now of the opinion that to avoid this possibility, the bell should only be retained in its present lofty perch just for ornamentation and the business of proclaiming the passage of the hours should be done by some kind of an electronic device, through a loudspeaker. Others feel that we can do without this gross ignominy and leave the clock to stand silently, retaining its past glory and dignity but still doing its duty of showing us the time.

I’m not very sure which side of the fence I should stand on in this matter, because getting over this quandary is a challenge best left to the experts. But like the many old-timer Mysureans I recall that the magical sound of the bell would reach as far as five to six kilometres away.

It is a different matter that with the passage of time, the sound of the bell got drowned in the sound of automobiles and other noises that gradually became all pervasive across our fast-growing city.

Now whether we give it an electronic voice or retain its original source of sound, while we should all feel happy that this ‘time keeper’ of our beautiful city, that has been telling us the correct time, from the time when not many people in the city had wrist watches or clocks at home, we should certainly  not allow it to fall silent!

e-mail: kjnmysore@rediffmail.com

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By Dr. K. Javeed Nayeem, MD

The recent proclamation of the State Government that the possession of all kinds of wildlife artifacts by citizens would be dealt with by taking very stern legal action, under the Wildlife Act, has become the cause for much concern among people who have been having wildlife artifacts, both small and big, in their households, over many decades.

This announcement certainly seems like a knee-jerk reaction from the Government to the solely media-created sensation that we saw a couple of months ago, when some high-profile people were depicted wearing ornaments that were purportedly made from tiger claws. That many of these supposedly expensive feline claws were only dirt-cheap fakes, made from humble buffalo horn, was an admission sheepishly made by their owners who had until then proudly flaunted them as the real stuff, acquired at exorbitant cost, commensurate with their status in society. This rather humiliating genu-flexion did not come easy to them and their false pride but there was just no other way to dodge the long arm of the law!

But a great many people who are likely to be affected by the recent announcement of the Government are in the process of prevailing upon it to grant them some kind of amnesty and allow them to retain what they now have with them. Needless to say, they only possess relics of the hunting done by their forefathers in a long bygone era, when hunting was a fully legitimate and even much-admired sport. That was the time when the commoners indulged in hunting animals for food and the elite did it both for food and sport.

A third category, the royalty, did it not only for food and sport but also to pamper and please the primitive instincts of their overseas guests, who would certainly relish the thrill of themselves procuring what would become a part of the royal feast laid out for them, on the royal dining tables.

Although there was nothing very wrong in what they were doing during their times, considering the social traditions that prevailed during that era, what was certainly very wrong and even very painful, was the wanton killing that often went on in the name of sport. Hunting parties vying with each other as in any other sport, would end up indulging in what would be nothing short of massacres of unimaginable magnitude that would mindlessly and needlessly leave hundreds of animals and birds dead at their feet.

This is amply evident from the photographs we invariably see in every book that chronicles the lives of our Maharajas, Maharanis, Nawabs, Viceroys and their blue-blooded overseas guests.

Taking high-profile guests of their era, on a tiger or lion hunt was considered a ‘must do’ activity without which their visits would never be complete, although the meat of these magnificent animals was never eaten, either by them or even by their most lowly aides or servants.

Coming to the present era, there is no denying that some amount of illegal hunting may still be going on in the hidden nooks and corners of our forests, fringing human habitation. But it is very unlikely that people indulging in such illegal and harshly punishable acts would be having the nerve to possess, let alone display, even the slightest evidence of their wrongdoings.

And, what we are talking about here is not the problem of illegal hunting but only about the possession by law-abiding citizens, of wildlife artifacts that are only the remnants of the hunting their ancestors did, generations ago, as a perfectly legal activity. Many of these possessions are well over a century old and there are a good many households all over the countryside which have them. And, why the descendants of these long-departed hunters would be so keen to hold on to these relics from the distant past, is because they hold them close to their hearts, solely for sentimental reasons.

In addition to being memories of their forefathers, these are all now very interesting conversation pieces, which become sources of recollections of a bygone era over fireside chats! They are not unlike the old fountain pens with no ink in them, or the older still pocket watches, that have long stopped ticking and which now just lie in our table drawers, or the elegant walking sticks that are only displayed on our drawing room walls which nobody takes along during their morning walks, but still remain the supports that our memories and recollections lean on!

Over the years that have gone by, many of these objects have even acquired the status of being a part of the paraphernalia that is used in religious rituals in many people’s homes. It is perhaps for similar reasons that we find our sages and saints invariably depicted sitting in meditation, on tiger-skin or deer-skin mats. While that is how it has always been in the past, it is noteworthy that we find this very same tradition being followed even in the living present.

Now, with the Government planning to completely do away with the possession of all wildlife artifacts, will it deprive them too of this age-old traditional practice, which has come to be seen as a harmless privilege and status symbol, both by them and their devotees?

It is for these very same sentimental reasons that most people in possession of these wildlife artifacts are reluctant to part with them and are therefore prevailing upon the Government to take a more lenient view and give them one last chance to declare the presence of these vintage pieces in their possession and get them registered and duly legalised.

Although a provision to do this was made in the year 1972, when the prevailing Wildlife Protection Act came to be implemented and once again in the year 2003, not many people availed of this opportunity. This was most ostensibly because, unlike the present information era, that was the time when knowledge about changes in rules and regulations would often simply fail to reach the masses. So, this is a matter that has to be handled, not just by interpreting the existing rules in their strictest sense but rather by taking a more liberal and compassionate view, that will certainly go a long way in fostering much goodwill between the rulers and the ruled, of the present era!

e-mail: kjnmysore@rediffmail.com

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By Dr. K. Javeed Nayeem, MD

A little more than a week ago, I read in very small print, an announcement in Star of Mysore that said an exhibition of watercolour paintings was being held at Coffee City, the relatively new gallery café in the Hebbal suburb of our city.

Being a fledgling or more rightly, a struggling, self-taught watercolour painter myself, I decided to visit the place and accompanied by my wife who is my art critic, I spent some time browsing the exhibits there. Although the café itself was full, there were hardly any visitors at the adjoining picture gallery, which was indeed rather sad but not very surprising.

I say this because I have been seeing over the years, that while events like textile or jewellery exhibitions and clearance sales of household goods and garments, offering real and even fake discounts, attract huge jostling crowds, areas like art, culture and literary events take a back seat and they usually have very anaemic attendance. While I feel that this attitude should change, I do not see much change in it, which is what makes it sad.

The solo exhibition was of about fifty watercolour paintings done by a young lad, Chetan Chukki, hailing from the nearby temple town of Talakad, whose parents, from an agrarian background, are now settled at Anekal, a small town near Bengaluru. Chetan happens to be a final year student of the Sree Kalanikethana College of Visual Art in our city. Perhaps because of his rural background and more importantly because of his origin from Talakad, a temple town of very historic significance, where ancient temples abound, most of the paintings he had displayed at the show were of small temples or their surrounding rural landscapes, depicting very quaint and charming village homesteads, which made them a treat to the eyes. 

None of the paintings featured any large or even famous temples that most of us know about and whose architecture we admire, as being representative of the many dynasties that make up the checkered history of our subcontinent. Except for a few, depicting some of the more well-known edifices that abound at Hampi or the temple town of Melkote, almost all the temples that have found a place in Chetan’s paintings, happen to be unknown and unseen but very enchanting structures, scattered across the hidden reaches of our State, hardly accessible to, or visited by mainstream tourists and travellers.

Because it is forlorn and ‘lost-to-the-world’ places like these which my wife and I love to explore on lazy Sunday mornings, we could immediately feel at home at the tiny art expo and connect with what it showed! I felt that Chetan’s forte, apart from his interest in the rural countryside, was the way he had laid his subtle washes in continuous tones, which is the hallmark of the art of watercolour painting and the quality of which makes or mars an artist’s work. This is also the most difficult part in watercolour work, where, unlike with other media, there is absolutely no way a painter, however capable, can correct his or her mistakes.

I must admit here that this is the area which is the most difficult to master for any student of watercolour art and sadly the area where I am still rather weak. So, every art show I visit, I treat as a learning experience and thankfully, there was much that I could learn from Chetan’s work and style too, in the very short time I spent viewing it!

Another one of his strengths, which you can see from his paintings I’ve shown here, is that he is a ‘minimalist’, which means that he has a very good ability to show what he wants to show, with the minimum depiction of details, leaving the discerning viewers’ minds to see what their eyes often do not! This is another attribute of every good artist, which holds good in the field of photography too, where what is left unshown, is often what is conveyed best!

(Chetan does art assignments too and he can be contacted on Tel: 80955 69980)

An Adieu, to My Jim Corbett!

Last Thursday, I lost one of my best friends, Peter Bahadur Singh, a retired Assistant Executive Engineer, who had served a very long innings in the Karnataka Electricity Board. We knew each other over the last thirty-three years, ever since we met when I was serving as a young and newly-married physician at the very remotely located Holy Cross Hospital in Kamagere, on the edge of what was once considered the dreaded ‘Veerappan Territory’, during the heydays of his inglorious exploits.

My friend was then serving in his equally remote post, at the hydroelectric power generating station at Shivasamudram. And, though the lofty Boodagatta Hill and miles of thickly forested and elephant infested terrain separated our two locations, they were no hindrance to our frequent, long, meetings and musings, over endless cups of tea and some crispy fried snacks.

Although he was more than thirteen years older than me, the difference in our ages never once made either of us feel that we could not be the best of friends. And, his age too never made him once feel that he was no longer a boy to be doing the things that he did. That is why on many occasions, after completing his morning walk, he would be found ringing our doorbell, well before dawn and also before we had even unlocked our front gate. And, this he would do most easily, by effortlessly leaping across our compound wall, like a truant schoolboy!

Two fried eggs, sunny side up, and still a little runny, with three slices of crisp toast, followed by a large mugful of hot coffee, served by my wife, would serve as his most favourite breakfast. Having been the son of a forester and an avid hunter in his younger days, when hunting was perfectly legal, he had by the time we met, given up hunting completely and become a passionate conservationist like the legendary Jim Corbett, whose conversion story too was no different.

But he continued to be an ‘Armchair Hunter’ and an articulate raconteur of hunting stories, all his life, which is what made him a great favourite at gatherings and parties. You just had to ignite the storytelling spark in him and he would forget the present world, taking you decades back and narrating shikar stories as if they had happened yesterday!

Having imbibed by his father’s side, the jungle lore that came to him automatically from a very young age, he was a great naturalist too, knowing the ways of all the denizens of the jungle. In addition to being an excellent marksman, he had a phenomenal knowledge of ballistics and guns, including their technical details and was a good repository of information in that field.

A very passionate and devoted family man, he loved to have all his friends and loved ones around him always.

We will all miss him dearly now. May his noble soul rest in peace. Amen!

e-mail: kjnmysore@rediffmail.com

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By Dr. K. Javeed Nayeem, MD

My last article about loneliness and what it is doing to our present-day society has unsurprisingly drawn a spate of responses from my readers, both young and old, over the last two weeks. I use the word ‘unsurprisingly’ because we all know how widespread is ‘the strange lonely feeling’ which haunts a great many people these days. Yes, gone are the days when some occasional individuals in our neighbourhood or among our friends or relatives used to complain of being left lonely and all alone, with no one to spend some time with them, let alone look after them and their day-to-day needs. It is estimated that on an average, about thirty five percent of people across the world, complain of feeling lonely, not just now and then, but on a regular basis. And, this is not just a problem of the aged, because an increasing number of those who are young too are being engulfed by this malady.

Having realised that just plain loneliness is disturbing and sometimes even ruining the lives of their citizens, many Governments have thought it sensible to do something seriously to beat this problem, which has now certainly assumed alarming proportions and has thus become almost a worldwide pandemic. That is why, the Governments of quite a few countries, across the world, have now appointed Ministers for loneliness, which may seem very strange and unusual, if not entirely comical. But that is a fact.

A ‘Ministry for Loneliness’ might sound like a poignant literary creation, from a work of fiction about scenarios to come in the future, but it is very much in existence, in the living present. In what has rightly been perceived as one of the greatest public health challenges of our time, loneliness is best defined as the gaping chasm between how connected our minds and hearts yearn to be and how connected we actually are, in our daily lives. With almost forty percent of its citizens reporting that they were being increasingly overwhelmed by a sense of loneliness, on and off, Britain was the first country in the world to realise that something had to be done on a war-footing, to combat the problem before it became unbeatable.

That is when Tracy Crouch was appointed as the first Minister for Loneliness in the Theresa May Cabinet. Close on the heels of this new development, Japan, another island nation, half a world apart, too felt that it needed to do something to handle the problem of loneliness that was bothering its fast-increasing geriatric population, which was the result of the increasing life expectancy of its people. So, Tetsushi Sakamoto became its first Minister for Loneliness.

Incidentally, Japan which has some monickers like Hara Kiri and Kamikaze for two of its rather strange and macabre traditions, also has a specific word for death due to loneliness and that word is Kodukushi. Although the problem of loneliness has been in existence for long, even before Covid-19 came on the scene, the global pandemic and the extended lockdowns that followed, have made loneliness even worse, particularly among groups that already were vexed with its bite.

Now, countries around the world are recognising the public health effects of loneliness and have deduced that it is closely associated with poor physical and mental health outcomes, including higher rates of, depression, cognitive decline and even mortality. As a result of this realisation, Government agencies and even citizens’ Self-Help Groups are evolving strategies and practical solutions to mitigate its impact.

For instance, in Britain, Royal mail workers are being tasked with checking on the state of the mental health and state of happiness of all older people, as a part of their delivery rounds and filing their reports to their social welfare authorities. But the question that comes to my mind is that with hardly anyone writing old-fashioned letters to anyone, using paper, how many people’s lives can be looked into even by the postal delivery personnel, who have hardly any letters to deliver?

So, what is it that we can do to tackle this very tricky but all too real problem? This is the question almost every one of the readers who responded to my last article, asked me. And, on my part, I started off trying to find answers, by discussing the options with a few of my like-minded friends.

We all felt that there are a few areas where we can begin and if we do it, I’m sure we will be heading in the right direction, although the destination we hope to reach, may still seem very distant. For a start, we can create small groups where we can encourage people, especially the elderly, who lead lonely lives in the community, to meet at least once a week at some convenient time and place and spend a little time just chatting.

And, mark my word, just chatting, can be a great revealer and healer too, because people can then discuss their doubts, anxieties and apprehensions, which alone, can take away a good deal of their mental burden. This activity can be made easier if we create public spaces around our commercial areas and apartment blocks, with benches, toilets, cafes, telephone booths, chemists’ shops and basic health care centres surrounded by some refreshing greenery around, where people in need of some company can congregate.

Over many years, whenever I happen to go that way, I’ve been seeing this kind of a scenario, around the Jayanagar Shopping Complex in Bengaluru, although it is not accompanied by all the facilities I have spoken about. Come evening and you can see elderly people, many of them barely able to walk comfortably, attired in warm clothes, even when it is not too cold, arriving one by one, like roosting birds and occupying their self-designated regular places, next to their friends.

A coffee or tea seller, a peanut or popcorn vendor and a newspaper or boot polish boy, who too are the local regulars, are enough to polish their flagging spirits! They thus spend a happy hour and a half, till the fading daylight and enveloping dusk, silently tell them that it is time to get up and head back to their homes and solitude. That some of them could just not hear what their friends said, despite wearing their hearing aids and cupping their curved palms to their ears, does not seem to matter at all. Just the pretence of having understood what they did not hear and having seen the toothless smiles they flashed to each other, serve as the best medicine for all their aches and pains, both physical and mental, till the next evening!

e-mail: kjnmysore@rediffmail.com

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By Dr. K. Javeed Nayeem, MD

Very recently, my attention was drawn by one of my patients, very anxiously, to a video clip that was doing the rounds on YouTube. This kind of interaction between my patients and me, happens quite often these days, because the YouTube and other social media channels are today flooded with every kind of ‘gyan’ ranging from the very authentic to the outrageously absurd.

In fact, the topic of my last article about the alleged contamination of our ordinary table salt with deadly cyanide, too, was the result of my attention being drawn to it by another anxious patient.

This time the point of concern for my patient was the news that loneliness was becoming one of the leading causes of death across the world, which if true, should indeed be a matter of great concern.

And, the video clip that was presented to me as the evidence for this alarming trend, was from a news channel with a reputation of reasonably good credibility. I use the term ‘reasonably good credibility’ because these days, we can never be really sure about how credible any source of news is.

What is credible regarding one subject may not be so with another, even if it happens to come from the same source. And, what I accept as credible, may not be acceptable as such to you or for that matter, to anybody else, because our affiliations, beliefs and perceptions can be vastly different.

So, credibility is no longer like the proverbial character of Caesar’s wife; totally impeccable or above board. So, today, its modesty being a very relative term, it can only be relegated to the level of being at best, a mere fig leaf!

Coming back to the subject of loneliness, we should all accept the fact that except for the few rare individuals like me, being lonely is not a very desirable option or a pleasurable situation for most people. I say this because I enjoy my loneliness, which I prefer to call my solitude, even if it is for extended periods, because that gives me the time and space to reflect in tranquillity, upon my own life. And, I do this invariably, at least at the end of each passing day, to get a good night’s sleep, which it ensures, unfailingly!

Most people dread being lonely even for short periods of time, let alone all their lives. But we must admit that today, despite being immersed in what seems like an ocean of togetherness, a good many of us are miserably lonely, deep down in our hearts. And, this is what is killing us like an epidemic.

According to the report we are discussing here, it has been estimated that unknown to most of us, loneliness is killing people on a scale that is no less than an epidemic. It goes on to say that this level of lethality is almost equivalent to what would happen to a person if he or she smokes fifteen cigarettes or consumes six alcoholic drinks, every day on a daily basis.

Now, how does this happen? Very simply speaking, when people start feeling lonely and left out, either by their own choice or by the helplessness imposed on them by adverse circumstances, they naturally tend to become fearful, tense and sad. Very often, this happens without them realising that they are getting stressed up which is what makes it deadly.

This stress causes the formation and release of a substance called cortisol, which has a profound effect on almost all organ systems in the body. It is in fact the substance that helps to stimulate and tweak our bodies into a state of readiness to tackle an emergency that we may have to face. It is like shifting a cruising car into a lower gear and getting it ready to overtake another.

Among many other things, cortisol does this primarily by increasing our heart rate, our blood pressure and our blood sugar. All these changes are very essential for what is medically called the ‘fight or flight’ response, that may be necessary to overcome or to flee from an adverse situation. Stress is necessary and even good in small doses and it only shows you that you are normal. 

The transient cortisol surge is a natural and very essential response to safeguard us in times of emergent need. But if this elevated cortisol state becomes a constant feature of our lives, it can ruin our health by keeping our minds and bodies in a state of stress, like a revved-up engine, that can very soon only destroy itself. And, this is exactly how stress kills us, before our time.

Now, let’s see how bad the situation is and going by available statistics, I’m afraid it’s really very bad. It has been estimated that nearly thirty percent of people across the world are the victims of loneliness today and this figure seems to be growing at an alarming rate.

Until very recently, we Indians used to think that stress was only the bane of the western world, but it is no longer so. The reason for this is because even in our country, the older individuals are isolated from their children and grandchildren due to our now single-family lifestyle which is becoming the global norm. The joint-family system, that despite its other disadvantages, was a perfect antidote to loneliness until a generation ago, is now almost extinct, even in our country.

Surprisingly, the younger generation too, which considers itself gifted, because of the advanced technology that is now at its fingertips, is no less lonely today. This is because, without them realising it, their smart devices and smart screens are no substitute for good-old, not-so-smart relationships. That is why they too are now increasingly becoming victims of stress and all its related consequences. Lifestyle diseases like high blood pressure, diabetes, heart attacks, strokes and a surge in all kinds of cancers, which until now were only associated with advancing age, are now claiming younger victims.

Now, what is loneliness? In very simple terms, it is the gap between the connectivity that we all need to keep ourselves happy and what we can only manage to get, with our busy lifestyles. So, how do we beat it? By some very simple measures that cost us nothing; By visiting our friends, relatives and loved ones, who stay within touching distance and staying in touch with all those who stay at a distance. Do think about it!

e-mail: kjnmysore@rediffmail.com

The post A re-look at loneliness ! appeared first on Star of Mysore.

By Dr. K. Javeed Nayeem, MD

Consequent upon the recent publication of a disturbing report in some newspapers, naturally followed by their rapid circulation, in the now hair-trigger social media, a wave of needless panic seems to be spreading in our society.

A good many of you too may have read these reports, which if left unchecked, may spread like wildfire, because that is the exact frenzy that social media is capable of generating these days. And dowsing this impending wildfire before it catches the wind, is exactly what I am attempting to do through this article.

Since I am not into the present-day pastime of exchanging garbage with my friends and relatives through the notorious net, my attention was drawn to these reports only by some of my patients who came to me in great panic. These certainly very irresponsible reports, without any scientific backing whatsoever, have said that good old common salt, of Indian origin, has been found by an analytical lab in the United States, to contain dangerous levels of the chemical, Potassium Ferrocyanide, as a contaminant or even adulterant.

They have been attributed to some very obviously dubious sources, lacking even the minimum authenticity that is required to back them and they very noticeably smack of much mala-fide intent and vested interests. That is the reason I do not wish to give them more attention or publicity which they crave, by mentioning them  here by their names.

They have even gone on to say that this chemical is a deadly poison, capable of causing much harm to human beings, including causing cancer.

Nothing could be farther from the truth than this. Firstly, although Potassium Ferrocyanide may indeed be present in the salt that we use every day, it is not an adulterant. Traces of this chemical compound are very often present in natural edible common salt, especially the variety that is obtained from salt mines.

Even in the salt that is obtained by the evaporation of sea water, in salt pans and which is later powdered and converted to table-salt, legally permissible amounts of Potassium Ferrocyanide are added as an anti-caking agent to keep the product free-flowing and easy to use. This is a practice that is now common and widespread across the world.

What most of us may not know is the fact that salt is extremely hygroscopic, which means that it attracts moisture very quickly and tends to form clumps. That is why, all of us who use table-salt, are well aware of how we keep tapping the salt shaker on our dining tables in irritation if not frustration, whenever the salt fails to flow out easily! This is exactly the problem that the tiny amount of added Potassium Ferrocyanide prevents.

Now, coming to the claim that Potassium Ferrocyanide is a deadly poison, let me assure you all that it is not. This dishonour is only the result of it being similar in name to Potassium Cyanide, which in fact is one of the most infamous and deadly poisons in the world! We should understand that not all Cyanides are poisonous.

There are a good many Cyanide compounds that find use in many industrial processes. Until digital photography became the norm, in the just gone-by era of film photography, Potassium Ferricyanide, another cyanide salt, was used widely, to convert run-of-the-mill black and white photographs into the rich brown Sepia prints that were the hallmark of the golden era of formal portraiture.

Even today, looking at such prints evokes in me the nostalgia of the magic I used to myself perform in my make-shift dark-room, until two decades ago, as a hobbyist photographer. That was the time when playing with strong-smelling photographic chemicals was just as enjoyable as toying with my cameras and lenses!

Now, it is worthwhile to know that in medical toxicology, which is the study of poisons, there is what is called a ‘fatal dose’ for every substance, poisonous or non-poisonous. This is the dose that can kill a person. The most reassuring bit of information is that the fatal dose of Potassium Ferrocyanide is exactly equal to the fatal dose of common salt, if indeed a person manages to consume enough salt, in one go, to kill oneself. This is an impossible occurrence because we all know very well that even the greatest salt-lovers among us, can never consume it in such impossible quantities!

So, every one of you can now rest assured that the salt that we are consuming in our daily lives, is worth its salt and therefore completely harmless to us, provided we keep in mind the fact that salt should be consumed in moderation to keep ourselves healthy.

Now, will someone be kind enough and pass me the salt please!

A picture-perfect Sunday!

The Sunday that went by last week was what I can call a near-perfect Sunday for me. It started off with me spending a good part of the morning with my good-old college-mates, reminiscing about the good- old-days, thanks to the Annual General Body Meeting of the Alumni Association of my Alma-mater, The St. Philomena’s College.  After that, it was a leisurely lunch at home, in the company of some very close, Biryani-loving relatives, who were our guests for the day.

I had to actually try very hard to lift myself up from the comfort of my coach and the temptation to stay put there, only because I had to catch up with an exhibition of photographs, I had to visit, before it was time for it to be wound up.

On my way to the show, near the Palace, much to my joy, I espied Mohiyuddin, an itinerant roasted peanut seller, whom I keep bumping into from time to time. My meeting him is always a joyous occasion, not only for me but for him too. That is because, hot, roasted peanuts are my anytime hot favourite snack and bumping into me always means guaranteed business for him!

Munching on the nuts, which this time clearly seemed to be having a little more salt than what was good for my health, which is what made them tastier than usual, I just managed to make it to my destination before it was closing time.

The exhibition, ‘In True Colours’ at the Wadiyar Centre For Architecture, was of about sixty photographs, taken by my long-standing friend Ashvini Ranjan, a well-known person in the city because of his being a Founder-Trustee of ‘Pratham,’ an NGO that works for the improvement of the quality of education for rural school children.

This was an exhibition of photographs he had taken, as a hobbyist photographer like me, and it was a real treat, both to the eyes and the soul. I say this because this time too, as he always does with his art, he had managed to capture the soul element in his subjects.

This was his second such exhibition after a long hiatus of a full decade. I had written a full article about my impressions of his first show that was also no less impressive.

I had then said that I could see the touch of his guru and guide, the great photo-journalist of our city, T.S. Satyan, in his work and I can only say the same about what I saw this time too.

Two of the prints from his exhibition which he gifted me last Sunday, proudly adorn my home now!

e-mail: kjnmysore@rediffmail.com

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By Dr. K. Javeed Nayeem, MD

The recent passing away of a close friend, D.R. Shivram, a coffee planter and an ace car rallyist of a bygone era,  brought back to my mind fond memories of some very good times that we as a group of friends had, while doing the things that we then loved to do and which we can now only re-live in the realms of our fading memories.

Shiva, as we used to call him and another close friend, Feroz Asgar Ali were perhaps the first car rallyists from Mysore during the late seventies and early eighties who had made quite an impression on the rallying map of our region. Incidentally, they were certainly the first two persons who started using radial tyres on their Fiat 1100 cars in our city and then set the ball rolling for other car enthusiasts to do likewise.

But this development was not without its share of disagreements, disbelief and even resistance from many sceptics, all of whom very quickly became converts to the ‘radials-only’ rage!

Radial tyres which had just then arrived on the motoring scene in our country, first as expensive imports and later after being manufactured indigenously by JK Tyres in the year 1977, had a rather difficult time getting accepted by people who felt that they would be too hard and harsh on the feeble suspensions of our two flagship cars, the mighty Ambassador and its little sister the Fiat. Only after Shiva and Feroz showed what they could do to the performance and ride comfort of cars, without harming them in any way, were we conservative Mysureans emboldened enough to taste and consequently relish their amazingly different performance.

My late father too, switched over to radials for good, only after test-driving their rally-readied car. But he chose Apollo instead of JK because his close friend B. Madhusudhana Rao of Madhu Tyres, on Hanumantha Rao Street, from whom we bought all our requirements of tyres, vouched for them.

Interestingly, although a very sedate and serious type of man himself, Madhusudhana Rao happened to be the own elder brother of Dwarakish, the most popular and well-known comedian of the Kannada cinema world, who during the peak of his acting career, used to send millions of his fans into peals of irresistible laughter!

The most prestigious achievement of the two rallying partners, Shiva and Feroz,  certainly was bagging the first place in the Indian Cars category of the Himalayan Rally, along with their friend Dr. Rajesh Kadakia of Hyderabad. The two also stood first in the first ever K-1000 Rally in the year 1980. Perhaps unknown to most people and surprising as it may seem, the Karnataka 1000 Rally, more popularly known just as the K-1000, started in the year 1975, was the first such event in our State and it continues to be the third oldest running rally in the entire world. It is a flagship annual event organised by The Karnataka Motor Sports Club (KMSC), one of the founder members of the Federation of Motor Sports Clubs of India (FMSCI).

Come rally time and I would carefully time my home visits and come down to Mysore with great eagerness from far away Gulbarga, where I was then a medical student. It used to be a very exciting time, spending a few days with my rally-happy friends of whom I had a good many then. We would all be immersed in endless discussions about cars, bikes and all possible modifications, both real and imaginary, that were reportedly being done to their machines by the competing participants.

Because not all of us could possibly experience their performance in person, these fireside discussions alone would be enough to sustain the rush of adrenaline that used to keep the fires of our frenzy burning bright. A few of us would very often take turns proudly driving around the city in the modified cars or bikes, emblazoned with their serial numbers, and the names and blood groups of their drivers and navigators, as if we were the participating rallyists ourselves!

After I returned to Mysore as a full-fledged doctor, full of elation and enthusiasm, though not the much-needed experience, I used to always be the local area ‘Rally Doctor’, standing in readiness with the medical team, to handle any emergencies. Amid the only few organising team members who would be privy to the forbidden knowledge of the actual state and twists and turns of the rally route, I would be in a state of mandatory quarantine imposed by the rule book! And, although temporarily isolated from my other friends, I used to greatly enjoy the ecstasy my privileged position bestowed on me!

My base and ambulance bay always used to be a small shack on the premises of the Lakshmi Service Station on the KRS road, which sadly was shut down in July this year. All these years, every time I passed that way, I used to feel a warm glow of joy inside me but now, every time I do that, I feel a slight pang of pain that a milestone from my happy past is gone forever.

Nevertheless, in my mind’s eye, I still see a young, pleasantly plump doctor, attired in a crisp white coat, holding a walkie-talkie and standing proudly, next to a gleaming white ambulance!

[This column is now eighteen years old]

e-mail: kjnmysore@rediffmail.com

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By Dr. K. Javeed Nayeem, MD

Our expectantly awaited annual Nada Habba has come and gone for this year. Our State Government had announced, well in advance, that in view of the very anaemic monsoon that we are all going through right now, this year’s Dasara would be a much-muted and simpler version of what it used to be in the years that have gone by.

We were also told that this year the focus would be more on lighting up the streets and buildings rather than on the other more expensive trappings and trimmings that make our Dasara what it usually is.

Thankfully, over the past few years, due to the arrival of LED lights, lighting is no longer a very expensive affair because it now consumes power very frugally. Thankfully too, for our Government, the truant monsoon came in handy to take the blame for whatever austerity that was visible this year, to the local public and our tourists and visitors too.

I say this because even if the monsoon had been generous and bountiful, our show would perforce, have been the same as what we saw this year, because a bountiful monsoon alone cannot make our State glow through a lavish Dasara. You need to have a full, if not overflowing treasury, to make this happen, as nothing works like free-flowing cash, if you need to showcase grandeur. And, as of now, free-flowing cash is what is most obviously in short supply in our State!

All said and done, what was most pleasantly noticeable during this year’s Dasara was the way our city had been lit up. We saw very muted colours, without any of the garish and clashing contrasts that used to jar our senses, as it used to be in the past. Except for a few buildings, mostly Government ones, that stood out like sore thumbs, with their incongruous lighting, the whole city bore one expansive golden glow that beautifully matched the age-old, vintage look of our illuminated Palace, that took its place of pride, like the main jewel in a piece of beautifully    crafted jewellery!

So, driving around the city was a very soothing and mesmerising experience that brought much joy to the soul. Thankfully, over the past few years, the timings of the Dasara lighting too have also been much extended, which has contributed to the comfort and ease with which people can enjoy it, without congesting the roads in their desperate bid to beat the switching off time.

While complimenting and thanking all those who were responsible for planning our Dasara lighting to be what it was this year, let’s all hope that they will stick to this sense of aesthetics in the years to come too, without overdoing it with misplaced over-enthusiasm. Let us retain this ethereal signature look of Mysuru in all the years to come!

Killing our groundwater with our kindness for good looks!

These days I am seeing that the footpaths along almost all our roads and even minor bylanes are being covered up with concrete pavementing blocks. What appears odd is that this is being done even in the most sparsely populated, fringe areas of the city, with hardly any pedestrian movement.

An example that comes to my mind immediately is the very wide 3rd Main Road in K.C. Layout, that takes off from the Chamundi Hill road, near the quaint looking Government Health Centre and connects the helipad road. It is an already beautiful and tranquil stretch of road that passes alongside a few farmsteads that have remained islands of tranquillity, albeit incongruity, amid urban turmoil! I envy their owners for the peace and quiet that they are enjoying, right in the heart of a bustling city.

This road that I’m talking about, certainly does not require or benefit from any further beautification or ornamentation. If we only look around a little, we will find that there are dozens of such examples across our city. While pavementing may be an exercise in beautifying our city, or making life easy for pedestrians, no one involved in this process seems to be aware of what damage it can do to the recharging of our fast-depleting groundwater resources, by preventing the percolation of rainwater.

Groundwater that is being mercilessly and thoughtlessly overdrawn, has just one source of replenishment and that is rainwater. While Government authorities across the country are making it mandatory for all new buildings, both private and public, to have rainwater harvesting provisions, it seems absurd that they are themselves ignorant of the deleterious effects of pavementing our footpaths and open spaces that can greatly help the absorption of rainwater. I strongly feel that this over-enthusiasm for beautifying our city should be moderated with concern for our water resources which need the maximum attention if we have to lead comfortable lives in the future. So, this needs a very scientific, State-wide approach, under the able guidance of a team of qualified and knowledgeable experts.

It should certainly not be an exercise that should be undertaken by lay persons as is being done now.

e-mail: kjnmysore@rediffmail.com

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By Dr. K. Javeed Nayeem, MD

It is now a very well-established fact that the nearly two-decade-old man-animal conflict in areas bordering our forests is not showing any signs of being resolved, with any degree of success.

Day in and day out, we keep reading reports about these confrontations and just two days ago there was a report in Star of Mysore about a herd of twenty-seven wild elephants having been driven out of coffee growing territory in Kodagu, by estate workers. And in the very recent past too we have read some very distressing reports of people who have been killed by wild elephants and tigers, as they went about their daily lives.

While herbivorous wild animals like elephants and bisons and carnivorous ones like tigers and leopards cannot be made to understand why they are not welcome in human inhabited areas, humans too seem to have ill understood why they are intruding into areas where they are not welcome. Among their other basic instincts, the most powerful one that drives wild animals to undertake excursions to areas outside their natural habitat, are plain hunger and thirst and their quest for food and water to quench them. There is nothing surprising or unnatural about this.

But it is a different matter that in the case of human beings, many other considerations, like the greed to acquire wealth and power, are undoubtedly the more powerful urges that lead us to do many of the shameful things that we do, as the self-appointed and sole owners of this world. That is why, we have been seeing and are still seeing all the injustice, warfare, bloodshed and misery that we have been inflicting upon ourselves over the centuries, in our unabashed effort to satisfy our baser instincts and pursuits.

While we as human beings, supposedly endowed with the highest levels of intelligence, never take note of how errant our own behaviour is and do nothing to correct it to make our lives more livable, we expect animals to mend theirs!

That is why we make a big hue and cry over how our lives are being tormented and our livelihood is being disturbed, by the activities of animals with whom we share our living spaces. But sadly, none of us including our so-called experts in wildlife management, seem to have understood why this man-animal conflict continues to torment us. Various theories keep getting propounded from various quarters, both qualified and unqualified, but they all have proved to only be absurd because we do not seem to be making any progress in solving the problem. Some of these theories seem very comical too.

Very recently, some expert has announced that it is the excessive proliferation of the weed, Lantana camara that is responsible for driving animals out of our forests. Lantana, originally a native of Central and South America, has been the commonest and most abundant wild shrub, that we see all around us. Little has our expert understood that humble Lantana has been peacefully sharing its living space with every one of our wild animals, over two centuries, ever since it was brought to India by the British.

In fact, what we are now blaming as the culprit, has been providing a roosting place for many of our birds, reptiles and smaller mammals which abound in our forests today.

 For the denizens of the forests, because it is plain hunger and thirst that forces them to step outside their natural habitat, addressing this need is logically the most sensible solution. What our forests hold now, by way of food or tranquil living space, clearly seems to be inadequate to give their inhabitants what they need.

That is why they are being forced to seek these two bare necessities outside where they once used to. Talking of food first, our so-called forests, though lush and green in appearance, do not seem to be having sufficient vegetation of the kind that gives sustenance to animals like elephants and bisons, which have massive appetites. This deficiency is thanks to our nearly century-old practice of encouraging monoculture by planting timber yielding trees like teak that provide no nourishment to wildlife.

A drive through any of our wildlife sanctuaries will make us understand how rampant this practice is. You’ll hardly find any other kinds of trees, especially the ones that provide fruits or berries or low-level foliage that animals can relish. The bamboo too, a favourite of foraging herds of elephants, that once used to be abundant, has almost done the disappearing act. This is because of the natural life cycle of the plant that makes it die every twelve years or so, which it has been doing over the last few years. But we do not seem to be doing enough to replenish it.

In comparison to what our forests hold today by way of food, coffee estates that border them seem like virtual Edens to hungry animals. This is because they hold plenty of fruit trees like orange, arecanut, jackfruit, jamun, wild figs, banana and the Malanad toddy palm (Caryota urens), all of which are the hot favourites of hungry jumbos!

Once animals like the elephants and bisons taste these treats, all other fodder found in the forests naturally seems very insipid and tasteless. So the key to setting right the present problem seems to lie in replenishing food and water sources for wild animals, right inside their natural habitats.

Carnivorous animals like tigers and leopards too come into the news from time to time, for making the lives of humans difficult and dangerous. And this is despite the fact that there’s no dearth of food for them in our forests.

The reason for this confrontation seems to be the encroachment made by us with our agricultural activities, into what were once the buffer zones between their territory and ours.

It is important to understand that it is not enough for these animals to just have their living space. Because they are very apprehensive of human presence, they also need to have clear stretches of what can be called no-man’s land between their land and ours.

These are a few of the points that we all seem to be missing when we complain of being put to much inconvenience and peril by the ongoing man-animal conflict. That is why we have not been able to do anything significant in resolving it despite spending huge amounts of money over it.

Just recently there was a statement from our Chief Minister that we need to spend another rupees three hundred crores over this effort, before we can see some much-needed results. But in my opinion, unless we get to understand the etiology of the problem, this too will go down the drain and only turn out to be money ill-spent!

e-mail: kjnmysore@rediffmail.com

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By Dr. K. Javeed Nayeem, MD

A recent bit of news has started my heart beating much faster than it usually does at my age! I have been given to understand that the Mysore Medical College (MMC), now rechristened as the Mysore Medical College and Research Institute (MMC&RI) is all set to celebrate its centenary. And, the reason why my heart has started beating fast over this bit of news is because I happen to be one of the thousands of the doctors who have walked out of its hallowed corridors, proudly holding their qualifying degrees.

Although all name boards and references to this iconic institution call it only by its new name, thankfully, there still stands a solitary cement board in its lawns, proclaiming its age-old name. Now that I have drawn attention to its existence, I hope nobody gets inspired to remove or change this too. I feel it is better to leave it undisturbed, as it is, as a sort of Good-Luck Charm! 

The centenary celebrations which are slated to last for a full one year will formally start in the next two days with a State-sponsored function. This Medical College was established in the year 1924 at the Victoria Hospital Complex in Bangalore by H.H. Krishnaraja Wadiyar, the then Maharaja of Mysore. To begin with, it was housed in a small stone building near the original electric station in the fort area. Unfortunately, both these landmarks have disappeared now.

Dr. S. Subba Rao, the Professor of Physiology, was the first Principal, succeeded by Dr. H. G. Mylvaganam and Dr. B.K. Narayana Rao.  Prior to this, a Medical School (Vaidyashala) had been established at Bangalore, during 1833 by the 22nd ruler of the Wadiyar dynasty, Sri Krishnaraja Wadiyar (1799-1868).

Although it dealt with Ayurveda, Siddha and Unani, the three traditional Indian systems of medicine, the Maharaja was foresighted enough to incorporate in it the so-called ‘English Medicine’ too in the interest of the public and also to cater to the health needs of the Europeans in his domain, who did not repose much faith in the slow-to-act Indian Medicine! This has been mentioned in a book on the Mysore Royal Family, written by B. Ramakrishna Rao, the then Palace Controller, which was published in the year 1922.

The Palace Durbar Surgeon, working under the Maharaja, was nominated as Supervisor for this Medical School. There is an interesting background to why the Maharaja founded Mysore Medical College. Since there were no medical institutions in the erstwhile Kingdom of Mysore, a scheme for imparting medical education had been started in 1881 under which, carefully selected students were given scholarships and sent to places like Madras, Calcutta and Bombay to undergo medical training and to then return and work as doctors here in our State.

After the Madras Presidency expressed its inability to admit students from Mysore State, the Government of Mysore sanctioned another scheme in April 1917 that included the establishment of a Medical School at Bangalore to train the then called “Sub Assistant Surgeons.” Trainees had to undergo a course for four years to qualify as Licenciate Medical Practitioners (LMPs).

In 1924 the Medical School was upgraded and was called the “Mysore Medical College.” The College was affiliated to the University of Mysore and the trainees were now granted full-fledged medical degrees. Two years after its inception in 1924 the Medical College, which happens to be the seventh Medical College of our country and the oldest and first Medical College of our State, upon the instructions of the Maharaja, was shifted to Mysore for some obscure reason.

It is said that there was vehement opposition to this move by the entire medical profession of Bangalore but the Maharaja’s wishes and desire prevailed, which is not very surprising. Hence the College can be regarded as twice born; first in Bangalore and later in Mysore! Here too, till the present building was completed, it used to function from the building that now houses the Public Library and the Chamarajendra Technical Institute which stands opposite the main building of the imposing Krishnarajendra Hospital.

The foundation stone was laid in 1930 by the Maharaja and the main building was constructed by Boraiah Basavaiah & Sons, the then most famous contractors of Mysore.

Dr. J.F. Robison, a Britisher, was the first Principal of the College in Mysore. He was also the Durbar (Palace) Surgeon to His Highness and Superintendent of the Krishnarajendra Hospital. He came as a fellow of the celebrated Mayo Clinic of the USA from where he had obtained his F.A.C.S. and he was later deputed by the Maharaja, to the UK to take a British Fellowship (F.R.C.S) from Edinburg.

From its very humble beginnings, this century old educational institution has come a very long way and acquired a towering stature in our city, having played a very crucial role in the lives of millions of people from in and around Mysuru over a full hundred years. I don’t think there is a single family in and around Mysuru, which cannot talk of someone’s pain having been eased or someone’s life having been saved by the doctors and nurses it has produced.

While our State Government will be doing its part of funding and conducting the centenary celebrations in its own way, I personally feel that we the citizens and alumni, would do well to get involved actively in this affair and do something that will in turn leave a lasting mark on the personality and face of this institution. Let’s put our heads together and decide how best we can do it. And, do it, we must, because this is the least we can do to show our love and gratitude for what we and our families have got from it. Do think about it!

e-mail: kjnmysore@rediffmail.com

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