Skin

Few days back I went to the dermatologist. A skin doctor if you please. Now what’s so special about going to the skin doctor… you might have wondered in your head. Hello... wait till I tell you the full story, I might have retorted had you expressed your thoughts aloud. And now having achieved the double objectives (objective?) of creating an artificial impression of suspense and managing to conjure up a opening paragraph with zero useful information when nothing writable was flashing in my head (third objective being writing a ridiculously long sentence that the reader wishes will get over, only to confront an another equally long ridiculous line at the end - within parenthesis) …gasp… I shall continue with the actual story.

So there I was in Jayanagar 4th Block walking around. A little aimlessly. That’s when I got this sudden urge to finish some pending stuff on my to do list. And there was point no 6 in black ink - ripe and fuzzy with age: Do something about rash.

It’s a silly little rash really. Not so silly that it can be ignored for long. Something that lies around until the day I’ve just forgotten about it. And then decides to erupt in indignation a little later. Not something contagious though. So if we've been in touch don’t worry! ( but again, you have only my word for this. And I’m not a Doctor. Yet.)

I took a little detour and sauntered into the dermatologists' clinic, pleased with myself. Just the day before I'd read some fundae by J Krishnamurti about how the "the first step is the last step". I’m taking the first step, I’m taking the first step I thought as I nearly tripped on the last few steps leading to the clinic. I entered the clinic and saw people packed into seats like French fries in a fat boys’ mouth. I decided to forget about J Krishnamurti's fundae for the time being. I entered gingerly, tried to fit in between two French fries but lost courage and ran back to the receptionist.

“Eh huh.. I don’t have an appointment. How long will it take to meet the doctor? “

“There are seven people before you. And its already 12.30 now. You will most probably not get an appointment by 1.45. Better you come after lunch around three.”

So I went back home. I knew the right thing to do would be to go back to the clinic at three. But I could make up some excuse and avoid doing this. So much work to do on the computer (I made myself think, handing myself a guilt free pass in the process).I headed blissfully back home knowing fully well I'd end up reading random stuff on the net instead of going to the Doctors’. But guess what. No current at home! And no marks for the second guess. No UPS at home!!

Once in every million years, when a first step is taken in the right direction, many other things conspire to make the right thing happen.
Sounds quite corny but you can quote me on this ... as "Nikhil Balaji's counter corollary to Murphy's law circa 2009”. So come 2.45 pm I headed back to resignedly to the dermatologists'. And finished my business with him.

One more thing which struck me was how far ahead the dermatologist was booked for appointments. When I asked for an appointment, the only slot I could get was for 3 weeks later! And appointment on Saturdays and Sundays... Forget it. Why what’s with the skin? Is it more susceptible to diseases and problems than other parts of the body? Or aren’t there enough dermatologists in India? Haven’t the medical fraternity figured the simple logic of supply and demand…why don’t more of them take up (for lack of a suitable word in my dictionary and a lethargy on my part to look up the internet) dermatology studies?? What the hell!!
Note to self: Meditation is apparently not working for you right now.