Memories of my Ajoba

 

 

When I think of Ajoba now, the first thing that comes to my mind is his voice. Loud, commanding, very characteristic of him, that was just right for his strong personality. As a doctor, he was no doubt one of the very best. I don’t say it because he was my grandfather, but because it is the truth.

While it is true that a lot of stories he told us, his grandchildren, about the diagnostic dilemmas he faced went over our heads, it nonetheless filled us with an immense sense of pride. I viewed him as this Superhero Doctor who was capable of correctly diagnosing any medical condition. Not only me, but his patients saw him like that as well. They had immense faith in him, and the mere act of visiting him made them feel better.

One story that has vividly stuck in my memory throughout is probably one of the few times he slipped up, and it goes like this:

Ajoba never said no to house calls. He was the first qualified allopathic doctor in Sirsi. I have been told that Sirsi was vastly different then, than it is now. There were a lot of satellite villages around the town with poor connectivity and dirt roads. Most of the people living in these villages did not own a vehicle, and whenever there was a medical emergency, Ajoba unhesitatingly made house calls. He initially made these calls on a bicycle, pedalling away for miles together in the middle of the night to reach a sick patient. When he could afford it, he bought a car, just so he could serve his patients better. Vaikuntha, his trusted driver accompanied him on most of these visits.

One night, there was a call from a nearby village about a man who was feeling acutely breathless. Ajoba and Vaikuntha were immediately on their way. Upon reaching there, he quickly examined the patient and asked Vaikuntha to load up the injection with an airway dilator- something that would help the man breathe, while he himself was busy with the first aid. Vaikuntha promptly handed Ajoba the loaded injection. Though Vaikuntha did not have any medical knowledge; he had assisted Ajoba numerous times in this way before.

Upon receiving the syringe, Ajoba immediately injected the patient with the drug and waited. Within minutes, the man began to feel better and was well on his way to recovery. Ajoba and Vaikuntha returned home to catch some sleep before he had to start his gruelling schedule all over again the next day.

Before going to sleep, he was putting his medical kit back in order. He was very particular about cleaning up his own mess. It was only then, when he saw the broken medicine ampoule that he realised that he had not given the correct drug to his patient. An antibiotic had been given to the man instead of an airway dilator!

Ajoba said what healed the man that day had been his utter, unshakable faith in his doctor.

This story might not be verbatim, but it is how I remember it, and the gist of the story remains the same.

As a grandfather, he was the best anyone could have. He enjoyed having all his grandchildren around. I remember one time when all of us grandchildren had gone away to a relatives' place in a nearby village on an extended visit. After a few days, he called Vaikuntha and came to get us back because he missed us so much!

All of us, but I like to think especially me, received wholehearted praise and support from him. Normally, he did not like any onion, garlic, or strong flavours in his food; but if I cooked something using onion, ginger, garlic, he would absolutely love it. Not just say he loved it, but he actually absolutely loved it. If I made a painting, he would declare it superb. If I wore a new dress, he would say it was gorgeous. It had to be me and only me who would have to make the rangoli in front of the Ganpati idol every Ganesh Chaturthi.

I can say with absolute certainty that such loving support from him has undoubtedly shaped me into a better person.

Giving was second nature to him. Not only did he not insist that his patients pay him any consultation fees, he made generous donations to whoever came to him. He used to say that even if nine out of every ten people did not pay his fees, he would still have more than enough to meet all his needs. I am proud to say that he inculcated these same values of generosity and selflessness in his children and his grandchildren.

When I went away to medical college, I would eagerly look forward to his letters. I still distinctly remember the first time I received a letter from him. It was an ordinary letter, full of the normal, ordinary things one would write, but it made me miss him so much. I was reading the letter out loud to my roommate, and could not go on because I began weeping inconsolably.

I was in the third year of medical college when I got to know from my uncle that Ajoba had been diagnosed with advanced liver cancer. Of course I went through all the classic stages of receiving such a diagnosis. I was in denial for the longest time, trying to find out about anything and everything that could potentially cure him.

A couple of months before he passed away, I had made a journey home to see him. He was surprised to see me home in the middle of the semester when there were no holidays scheduled. He had lost a lot of weight and was having problems with his digestion. Upon asking my mother how was it that I was home in the middle of the semester, she told him that I had come to see him. I still remember the look of pride and joy on his face. He spent the next two days telling my grandmother that I had come home especially to see him!

Grief fades with time; though how much time it takes to fade is entirely dependent on the emotional connection one has with the person. When you hear about a popular celebrity passing away, you only feel a momentary twinge. When you hear about a distant relation’s passing, the grief lasts for a few days. But when it is someone you love more dearly than you can imagine, you feel like you will never be able to overcome that particular feeling.  I can say with fair certainty that Ajoba’s passing was a huge blow not just to our family, but to the whole of Sirsi town. While our family lost its patriarch, the town lost their beloved ‘Balu rayaru’.

Eventually though, you start remembering the loving times spent together and feel blessed to have had those moments.

Sirsi would have been a vastly different place than it is today if it was not for his medical and social contribution. He has touched the lives of so many people in not only Sirsi, but in the whole of Uttar Kannada district. I can’t help wondering how much justly deserved recognition he would have received on a national level if only we had had the power of social media back then.

It is very much possible to achieve immortality. While Ajoba might not be physically amongst us today, his legacy in the form of his deeds still lives on.