Finding Nilimo

  August 4th, 2024 The tan lines left when you forgot to remove your watch in the scorching sun,  The stamp of your seltzer can in the sand before the wave has won. The imprint of the textured chair on your legs folded under your weight,  The feeling of fullness that lasts just a brief while perhaps after the last thing you ate. Short-lived, transient, reversible. The bus ride to school, the excitement of new notebooks and pencils, the anxiety of who to sit beside this year -- elementary. The communal locker in the other wing, the half-days before the holidays, the stress of finals every summer. The mornings spent at the library cafe, the hours between classes pondering what to spend your dining points on, the community you begin to become a part of -- college. The all-nighters before every exam, the post-exam festivities of a tight-knit class, the waffling over what we felt were big Life decisions. The first Cardiology rotation, the goal to just keep your patients alive through the ni

March 6th, 2024 Friendships of childhood seem so fickle. Fleeting? Maybe those aren't the right words.  So easy to come by in some ways.  A biology project in common, a shared less-than-stellar teacher you felt an allied annoyance of, the struggles of running the 1.5 miles on Fridays in P.E. -- they were connections made in proximity, united by something shared, at very specific points in our lives.  It's interesting to think about how quickly some of those friendships came and went -- how quickly you moved on from one another when you realized you were hitting those pre-teen or teen milestones at different rates.  And not in a bad way by any means -- it just felt like you were experiencing different things at different times and maybe outgrew one another at just as unpredictable a pace. It's interesting to think about some of those childhood friendships that remained and wonder why that is.  I think many of us can think about those that we've stayed in touch with -- th

November 23rd, 2023 Dear Nandini, I remember half days at school, movie afternoons spent when our collective attention spans had all but vanished.  More time for video games and sleeping in and later on, more time for homework assignments over the long weekend.  For some reason, Jurassic Park reruns occupied the primetime slot on NBC and I was too young to appreciate the holiday-themed Friends episodes at the time.  Don't worry, I do now.  They were times filled with cheer and festivity -- and life!  Constant chatter filled our home, laughter and amusement.  The excitement over Black Friday sales -- the draft of the Christmas wish-list.  I miss it all.  As I got older, I remember chipping in a bit more at the Thanksgiving table -- helping with the sides, mostly just bothering people in the kitchen.  Eventually, I was in charge of dessert -- though I've lost track of the amount of times Ma yelled at me for using granny smith apples in the pie...It felt like we spent less time to

September 13th, 2023 To live a life without regrets,      One on your own terms and in your own way,     Of your own rules, a mold of your own clay. As a guide, led by those before you,     An obligation to those who come after you,     To those who have lost their light,     To those in a new land, a new culture, a new life. As an exemplar, a role model, a bastion of support,     A father, grandfather,     Partner, brother, uncle, mother,     Sister, friend, chosen family     A source for those in need. As a constant presence,     To express love, affection, adoration,     Even with words or without. To be relied upon and be reliable,     Food on the table,     Clothes on their backs,     For those you cherish to never want for anything. To celebrate the wins, however simple,     But to never forget the losses -- however small. To find the tiniest moments of joy, the humor --      But to not dismiss the pangs of sadness,     The impetus for growth. To continue the legacy of those who

January 27th, 2023 Like a shadow in the absence of sunlight.  Not only behind you, to follow But in front of you, a shroud. Above you, a weighted veil. Enveloping you, to smother. A companion you wish to rid, One you pretend is imaginary. One that hides in the presence of others,  But ever-present in solitude. Days filled with distractions -- Banter, meetings, the usual routine. But nights of quiet -- filled with pain -- An emptiness, an aching, dread. An uncertainty of who to call out to, The desire not to burden another. A difficult thing to articulate --  A question of what's truly at the source. A constant haze of tears, Triggered by many a thought. The feeling of lacking control -- agency. The persistent scramble to tread water. Like wading through thick mud, Made freshly arduous to pass from recent rain. Like running on sand just at the tide line, That extra pull just to move forward. 

January 11th, 2023 Dear Nandini,  I have never felt more alone than I do these days.  And I don't think I mean lonely.  I feel surrounded by people but I just don't seem to be connecting with them the way I usually do.  The hang-outs feel forced or I feel detached -- or I just feel like I'm pretending to be happy.  Everything feels like effort.  To get off the couch, out of bed, to the gym, into the shower -- it's all more effort than it's ever been.  Sleeping for at least 10 hours -- and I still wake up exhausted. Not always -- but often. The last time I felt this way, I was 17 or 18.  I remember that being a particularly difficult time as high school was ending and we were all going off to college and the uncertainty that brought was significant.  I remember having days where I would just burst into tears at the most innocuous statement.  It's one of those things where you're feeling so much but have no idea how to articulate any of it.  You try, but you c