Hearty Laugh

“What was the last thing that gave you a real, authentic, tearful, hearty belly laugh? Why was it so funny?” —The Daily Post.

The last time I really had a good laugh was earlier this year, during the spring semester. I had seen an article on Buzzfeed about girls who have b—- resting faces and it reminded me of my younger sister, who had been complaining of her own resting face a few days earlier. So I pulled up the article on my iPad and went to her room to show her. She finished up her drawing and came over on the bed to look at it. As she was scrolling through, she started laughing and laughing and then she was crying and then she was gasping for breath because it was so funny to her. I hadn’t found it that funny but seeing her laugh so hard made me laugh really hard and pretty soon, I too, was gasping for breath and clutching my stomach in laughter. We laughed together for a good bit and my sister had to put the iPad down in the middle of the article for fear she would lose her breath. We laughed ourselves out and then went back to the article and laughed some more and finally we made it through the article.

But what I love about that memory is that it wasn’t the article that made me laugh, it was my sister’s laughter that made me laugh.


Passion vs. Regret

It’s the middle of summer. I have about seven weeks until I go back to school. I can’t say I’m excited. For my chemistry major that I’m not even sure I want, I am signed up to take Calculus III and Physics I. I’m also signed up for Organic Chemistry II but I will probably drop it. Honestly, I still have no idea what I want to do with my life. At the beginning of this year, I thought, surely, by the middle of summer, I would know what I wanted. I based this goal off the fact that I would be shadowing a doctor this summer. I have shadowed for approximately 22 hours, at the beginning of summer. I worked with a pulmonologist and a primary care physician.

My very first day, I was absolutely fascinated. The pulmonologist had so much information in his head and I wondered how he could pull diagnosis so quickly once patients stated symptoms. I loved the mystery of it. You were presented with a set of symptoms and you had to diagnose it. The patients all loved the pulmonologist because of his “bedside manner”. I really liked him too because he was a great mentor. But after the first day, I was bored. Since he was a specialty physician, he saw the same cases every day. Everyone either had COPD or sleep apnea. There were a few rare cases that were different but mostly, it was older patients. The number one recommendation I heard come out of his mouth was to quit smoking and to lose weight. I quickly bored of his patients as they were all the same and I couldn’t participate in the daily happenings.

Then, I went to the primary care physician’s office. I hoped, prayed, for something better. She was really sweet, stylish, and a mother of two young kids. She had become a doctor much earlier than was possible in the USA because she had done her studies overseas. Then she got married, and had kids during residency. She loved her job. But she only saw her patients for about 10 minutes each and then she was back to her office, typing away notes, referrals, etc. She was part of a private practice. I only got to spend one day with her but she was really interested in what I was interested in. I told her that I wasn’t sure I wanted to be a doctor but that I had wanted to be a pediatrician my whole life. “What changed your mind?” she asked me. I told her I was worried about money, student loans, and the time commitment. I wanted to be able to spend time with my future children and as a working mother, most probably completing my residency, that would just be impossible. “What other careers are you considering?” she replied. I told her how I was interested in public health, hospital management, something in the healthcare field. Maybe dentistry or optometry. She told me to stop beating around the bush. Why not just become a doctor? I clearly wanted a career through which I could make a difference in people’s lives and physicians do it everyday. I still wasn’t sure, I mumbled.

I shadowed one other primary care physician. She had also studied overseas and now owned her own private practice. Her husband owned a practice too, right next door. They had connected buildings. How cute. She was really nice, I met her for the first time on my first day shadowing. I had been referred to her by the two other physicians I shadowed. She went from room to room, listening to patient grievances. Many were overweight and that was the root cause of many of their health issues. Others were diabetic. Majority were both obese and diabetic. In spite of all this, I still enjoyed the mystery aspect of it all. Patients would come in and present a series of symptoms and the physician would have to take a look at past medical history, other symptoms, potential causes of stress/anxiety, and more. I couldn’t believe that primary care physicians were paid so little when their jobs seemed harder than that of specialists. Where specialists only take care of one part of the body, primary care physicians take care of the whole body. But I didn’t really like the patients. They were old and their health problems were their own fault. Smoking, overweight, no physical exercise. Did they expect to be healthy?! What bothered me the most was when patients came in and reported that they had not been following the doctor’s orders from the last visit. They came in there demanding to know why they weren’t better when they hadn’t even been keeping up with their medication.

Eventually, I found a web-design internship at a non-profit organization and that was the end of my shadowing. I’ve been working here for 2.5 weeks now. With that much experience and 22 hours of shadowing, here’s what I’ve learned about myself:

  • Specialty medicine doesn’t quite appeal to me because it quite repetitive. Perhaps it’s the pulmonology/sleep medicine that I don’t like. Or the older patients. Not sure, but I couldn’t see my self doing that everyday.
  • Primary care isn’t my forte either. I think I just don’t like older patients. They are responsible for their current state of health and I cant do anything to help them if they don’t help themselves first. Ideally by losing weight and quitting smoking.
  • Sitting behind a computer with no tangible end is no fun. I went through a phase when I was really interested in computer science. I thought about web design, programming, and maybe computational media. But currently, at this internship, I don’t really enjoy it. Now, that maybe largely due the fact that I haven’t even started on the actual website yet. The only thing that keeps me going is knowing that I am working for a non-profit and that my end outcome will greatly benefit many people.

So there you have it. I think the one thing I have realized is that I want to do social good with my career. But what that career is, I have absolutely no idea. I almost want to cry by how scared I am of the future. I’m scared of falling into a degree that I have to complete because I owe it to my parents/their money. I’m scared of ending up in a 9-5 job that I hate but can’t leave due to overwhelming student loans. I’m scared of dying without having made a change in this world. I’m terrified of regret.


You know what I hate? When I complain about a test being hard, people, including friends, just say that I can do it because I’m smart and then they move on to tell how much they lack in smartness. When I talk about a good grade I got, I get nasty looks and people just say that that’s what they expected anyways and they act like I’m trying to brag. 

And that’s why I never complain to friends about schoolwork. The only people who will ever see my full-out stress mode over a test/assignment will be my family. And the only people I ever tell my grades to are my parents because, although they put on a lot of pressure for good grades, they understand that I’ve worked my butt off and that good grades don’t just come easy, I work hard for them.

Ranting because these past few days have been hell.

Inappropriate Language

So, I was at Macy’s today, just browsing through clothes ya know. And that song Scream and Shout came on. And ok, I’ll admit, I think it’s catchy. But they didn’t censor it. At all. And Britney curses at least 5 times in that song. And I didn’t even flinch when she cursed. In fact, I did something worse. I sang the lyrics with her and the last word was a curse and it just came out of my mouth. I’ve become so used to hearing and reading bad language that sometimes I curse without even intending to.

And then, after that, another song came on. It was very inappropriate. I believe it is called Talk Dirty. It doesn’t have any curse words but it straight up talks about sex. No hiding it behind strange lyrics. And as I was trying to comprehend some of the lyrics, I ran into my friend and her mother. And it was great seeing them. But talking to her mother while that disgusting song was blasting in my ears was…embarrassing. I didn’t want to be around a mother who has such strong moral values while listening to such degrading music.

I just hate how I’m becoming so desensitized to cursing and inappropriate music.

Dhak Dhak

Do you know a cutie? I mean, like someone that you may or may not like, who is just, in general, a cutie? Yeah, that guy. 

I know one of those.  His clothes, glasses, and of course, such a great personality. What’s not to love? I’m not like, into him, but man he is adorable/handsome. And let me set the record straight for those who are quick to judge: No, I’m not looking to “get” him. No, I’m not “thirsty”/desperate. No, I am in no mood to get married. No, I have not even considered boyfriends. 

But every time I see him, it’s like my voice gets caught in my throat. Today I asked him a question and my voice was so squeaky and shaky that I am almost threw up. I had to repeat myself because he couldn’t hear me. He can’t have that much of an effect on me. And then, when I answered one of his questions correctly, in my squeaky voice, mera dil dhak dhak karne laga. Like really fast. And I was like, WTH. WHY? I’m not even into him like that. He’s a nice guy and cute but no. Just, no. 

Maybe it’s teenage angst? But I don’t want a guy. I don’t want any sort of relationship with any guy. At all. At least not for another 2 years. So, just had to let that off my chest. Because I NEVER tell anyone if I think someone is cute, but I just had to get this one off my chest because it’s annoying the effect he has on me. And hopefully, it’s just something that will pass. 

Mind Dump

These past few days have been stressful as hell and I just needed to dump out the contents of my flooded brain. I had tests last Thursday and Friday and then I had one this morning and I have one on Wednesday. I’ve been cooped up in my room or the library for the past week and a half studying, or at least trying to. 

I can’t figure out what the hell I want to do with my life. There are literally so many things I could do. And I realize that no one can, or should, tell me what to do. It’s something I need to discover for myself. At the moment, I would love not to work 9-5 and I want to be able to do several things at once. I like being involved in the community. I love organizing events and seeing them come through successfully. I love to be in charge. This may not be the most selfless thing, but I really love praise. I love to hear people tell me I did a good job when I put my time and effort into something that I care about. So, I guess that means I want to create stuff. But what kind of stuff, I’m not quite sure. 

I recently went to the ceremony for my Girl Scout Gold Award. When I was working on my project, I hated it and I really didn’t want to do it because I had already been accepted to college and so there was no incentive for me. But I’m really glad I did it. And the ceremony helped me to realize what a big deal take action projects are. We are helping our community. We are fixing problems that we face daily and locally. And that’s something I want to continue to do. 


Domestic Violence in India

I love the way Kamla Bhasin explains the issue of domestic violence in India. A lot of the cause of this issue is in the culture of India, the language, the religion. The Hindi word for husband is “pati,” which also happens to mean owner. Coincidence? I think not. There is the Hindu custom of the ‘Karwa Chauth’ which is “a ritual of fasting observed by married Hindu women seeking the longevity, well-being and prosperity of their husbands.” Now, I’m not trying to say that the reason there is domestic violence is because of the culture of India. But I do think that women and men are raised with this notion that women are below men. They are taught that this is the way of the world. And that is partly why men feel it is OK to beat their wives and women believe that they should remain silent.

I apologize for those who do not understand Hindi. But if you do, please watch. And I want to thank Aamir Khan for making this amazing show.