Habit can become a way of life, and living in a traditional Hindu house surrounded by non-Hindus in Barnsley, is no exception. I was always quite adept at keeping the two apart; home was where I left my views and Hindu ideologies, and school was where I learnt the essence of being "cool." Unlike school, medicine encourages individualism, and for me this involved accepting the culture my parents have been trying to instil into me at home. I never understood the fuss, until I came to the clinical phase in my third year of studying.
It could be seen as a norm for British Asian children to join medicine after A levels. This culture has also seeped into television, as you will be sure to find an Asian doctor pottering about in the background of a soap, ready to stun us with his one liner, "We are doing all that we can, but the chances look slim." It's not that all Asians are being bred to be doctors, but this path can be inevitable when exposure to medicine, and particularly hard work, has been immense as a child. I have found this characteristic, which is sadly fading away, of great prominence among my parents' Hindu friends. They pride themselves on their self control, and even more on their never fading taste for hard work. I have never heard them complaining about nights on call or even about auditing. Hard work with no complaints is quite a regimental force.
I became aware that this view was a little idealistic while sitting in on an alcohol clinic during a psychiatry placement. I saw many familiar patients who seemed to have "second attempt at rehab" scribbled everywhere on their notes. This would be a grand moment for all the "Asian uncles" to tut and to say: "If you work hard at it you can achieve everything you want, beta [child]." working hard is what I seem to find myself doing. Not running around trees looking glamorous like in Bollywood films, but working hard and developing a growing intolerance to patients who do not intend to help themselves. I can see a part of my culture coming out, not complaining even a little bit, but doing exactly as the higher powers of Krishna intended. I am working hard for the Asian society supporting me, to see that my first attempt is always good enough.
Despite the pressures to succeed, Hindu families provide support from all angles. Mothers feed you till you retch at the sight of another chapati, and relatives are always around, ever ready to shower you with advice. At times this inbuilt support network is very gratifying. No one can ignore the noise from cubicle six, where Mrs Patel has been admitted for an ingrowing toenail, and her 22nd cousin has also managed to squeeze herself in to convey her condolences. This close knit inbuilt support system is why India hasn't found the need to organise social services for its citizens. It thrives on the strong family unit, which includes the extended family, supporting the young and the old at all times. This can become an issue when you want to open your A level results in private.
The contribution of Hinduism to modern medicine comes in the form of complementary medicine. Yoga and ayurveda are age old arts of healing, the difference being that the healing process is aimed at all mental, emotional, and physical aspects. Healing is a holistic science of daily living that supports health and happiness. I have distinct memories of my granddad waking up early every morning, insisting we do the same, for an hour of intense yoga. In that one hour we exercised our lungs, muscles, and mind through breathing exercises, changing to different yoga postures while concentrating on our balance.
Our romantic belief in reincarnation makes dying something not to be apprehensive about. It is a very surreal moment when the passenger is ready to metamorphose to his next being, and his family prepare him for the journey with food and clothes. The person shows no fear as death is looked on as a lease to the afterlife, and, among all the tears and prayers, everyone hopes for a grander after life than their current one. Death is considered a beginning and not an end. A similar attitude is used in all aspects of life: in work, in the family, and in dying. Your duty is to work, but the heavens above will decide your destiny.
I have been brought up to do my best, and to do as much as I can. I intend to carry this belief into my medical practice and to offer the best I have to my patients by working hard. There is always the proportion that we have no control over. As my parents, from the beginning, have stressed: "Ours is to not complain but to do what is intended for us to be performed on earth, to do our karma [work]; and the fruit of it depends on what God intends." I do believe that there is a superior spiritual power lurking around us, checking on our every move. It takes care of situations that are beyond our capability. What we need to learn is when to let go and accepting the consequences, being a doctor is not fighting these odds but living up to the ideals of karma.
Dhanvantri, Hindu deity of health
