Wild Life

I wanted to become a photographer, began Param in his conversation with Mitchelle.  Wild-Life photographer to be precise. I was in my teens then, I began to see these photographers as the saviours of the world.  They save animals from extinction and thus save ecology and thus this world. That was when the TV channels on animals gained more repute.  Watching those beautiful birds, and magnificient elephants, majestic lions, mischievous wolves, elegant bears were all rare sights from the deepest forests of the world, The forest itself was a sight to watch. I had made up my mind that I would be one of them. Also, I found a way to be away from the crazy city-life, where we had alienated ourselves from the neighbourhood already.   To my beginnings, I used the 2 mega pixel – auto focus camera that my father had gifted to me on my twelfth birthday.  In today’s advancements on digital technology with upto 50 mega pixels, it was the most dumbest camera. But to me, it was the most precious asset. I cant believe now that the camera was even over-sized for my hand at the age. Riding my bicycle to places which were uncommon for boys of my age.  I could see what others can’t. Occupied by myriad thoughts, provoking very creative stories of Lions, Tigers, Gazelles, Peacocks, and many more of my heroes. Taking pics of garden lizards, and rare appearances of moths, grass-hoppers, skies that turn up with different attire every time of the day – which we can never afford. Technically, words like aperture, SLR, wide-angle, zoom lenses, sensor, would excite and attract my attention spontaneously. Over period I did improve my skills in enhancing the image quality with borrowed tools and some online software too. I was obsessed to the core about this profession that I had decided, I would pursue this even if each and every member of my family opposed it.  But to my surprise, each and every member in the family had encouraged me to the best possible way.

I started gathering information about techniques and technicalities.  Very word Camera, would raise my antennae up.  Utterance of certain brand-names would excite me even better.  I had gained over time, knowledge on accessories, angles, lights, equipment and even software that helped in perfecting this Art. I had already taken up to certain people, renowned for their contribution in the field of photography as my Gurus.  Many of them shared my room by adorning my walls with their pictures.

My loving and caring mother was happy with my passion for photographs and used to boast about it to my relatives and neighbours. All these were my exciting moments.  My father did not take notice of any of these till I was 12. That was when he gifted me with a camera. He was too occupied and busy in his quest for adding more wealth for the family.  A devoted husband, father of three, his aim was to make more wealth for the family to provide for three generations at the least. He had had a very bad childhood and hence very cautious about our future and the decisions we made about our schools and colleges, even the subjects we chose in our higher studies.  He had a say in what we did even in our every day lives. Being father, isn’t easy, I knew, from the stories of his childhood that my father used to share with us during our bed times.  He had been from the lowest echelons of the society and yet, he made it to the higher strata of the most influential people in the state-capital that we were in. It was purely with his grit and political acumen, had he gained the reputation and the rapport with the people of the highest hierarchical order in the town, the CM including. Speaking about my father, I had very proud moments that I enjoyed by taking his name.  A leading advocate he was and mention his name, all my friends would escape the punishment for their follies, be it the rash driving, drink and drive or the worst of boozing in the open. They all would get away by just taking his name.  I hadn’t used my father’s name as much as my friends had used it.  Such was my father’s influence and reputation in the City we lived in.

My father did consult another friend of his, when it came to my career and my sister’s.  Being from the orthodox chauvinistic mindset, my father’s friend had decided upon my elder sister’s education with a very non-professional graduation but from a big college in the city. He had impressed upon my father that an engineering degree, which was my sister’s dream, wasn’t suitable for the family, and my sister’s future, the least. Thus, my sister, who had followed the likes of Abdul Kalam, wanted to be an ace scientist of the ISRO, had settled for a simpler degree.  Now, she is married, settled with two kids to a businessman, who is more concerned about his business revenues rather than his wife’s intellectual quest.

This ‘uncle’ that I know of him was another political stalwart.  I do not recall any knowledge of his academic flair or his accomplishments, academically, but knew that my father had regarded him as his sole guide and guru for all purposes.  My father had attributed his successes to this ‘uncle’. It is during one such sessions that my father had with his guide and guru, over a drink, that this ‘Uncle’ had suggested my father about ‘Doctoring’ me.  I heard him mention that the making of a Doctor costed very little, just 32 Lakhs to be precise.  Once a Doctor, would breed a generation of Doctors.  That would change the course of life and the family line of business.  Any Doctor with some business acumen is  a sure success in life and that this ‘Uncle’ has observed me, and is appreciative of my business acumen too.  While I felt happy with him for the latter, I was totally agitated and embarrassed with this Uncle’s over-indulgence in our family affairs, especially mine. I was more embarrassed when my father did refer to him as his political mentor.

Life takes its turns and twists.  So, it did happen to me.  When, one day, my father introduced me to his far relative who had done his MBBS from our town and moved on to the US to do his MS. Now, he has settled in life with his family, nowhere to quote his roots.  I heard that he had even changed his surname for it sounded very odd and socially demeaning for him and his few family members, who had joined him in the US. It occurred to me, that I too can run away to the US.

I was helpless.  My mother had no say, neither would she support me for a career on photography. Knowing pretty well that my father and this ‘Uncle’ wanted me to become a Doctor and Doctor Only. She has had her bitter lessons from her encounters while trying to make my sister an engineer. She couldn’t succeed and so she had already given up.  Also, she saw merit in addressing me as a doctor. She is my mother and carries dreams of seeing me as a doctor, with a steth around my neck. A mother’s pride after all.

While in the innate sense, I could appreciate my father’s predicament, I was very angry with him and wanted to avenge.  He has not consulted me on my career. Instead, he took me for granted and decided on the influence of his mentor or guru – a career upon me, for which I would never forgive him, throughout my life.

Here I am, a doctor, specialized in Radiology, a field I chose in order to be close to a camera of sorts. Doing my best, loving my job. I can see what other’s cant. Be it an x-ray, CT-scan or an MRI, do have a reasonable repute.  My father had helped me in establishing a chain of Scan Centres, with his wealth and his political prowess.  My business acumen helped me in developing tie-ups with various doctors and hospitals, who were very keen to make margins – than on pathological diagnosis. I made best use of both worlds.  Now, I am proud of saving this world of humans, by giving the exact state of their health and saving them from extinction.  You would agree, it is indeed a Wild – Life.