Stages of Change, Heroin, Happy People and the McLeodganj Effect

Discussing the Stages of Change model (Purchaska and DiClemente) in the Drug deaddiction ward rounds, I made a bit of a mistake and said that after the action stage came the pre-contemplation stage or in other words, there is a relapse. Understandably, my boss was not to happy about it and called me a "prophet of doom". Well, amends were made and I admitted that there might be some people who kept clean and were abstinenet for periods longer than I thought possible. That was the end of it but then I was also in the same round told of a gentleman who had been admitted some 6-7 times for heroin dependence and now was clean for many-many years and was a much respected member of the Narcotics Anonymous. That might have been the end of it, but in the afternoon OPD I was in for a surprise.

At the fag end of the OPD when I wanted to have a cup of tea more than anything else, in walked a middle-aged man. Now most opioid and specifically Heroin dependent individuals are young, in their teens to 30's and this person was in his 40's. Not the typical heroin man, but something about the way he talked, the look said heroin. And sure enough he said he was taking heroin. In the course of the interview I asked him how it had happened. He told me had been admitted in the ward some 5-6 times, was an NA member and he was pretty sheepish about coming back here. "Sir, I had gone to Mcleodganj some days back". My ears pricked up because I knew what was coming. "There I met some Happy people". "Happy", I asked. "You know sir, those goras (whites) with long hair, who play music instrument". "Hippy" I suggested, "Yes, yes, Sir exactly, well they were playing guitar under the main Dalai Lama temple, and I was sitting there with my children and saw them chasing smack, and I dont know what happened, I still dont understand, but I went and asked one for a chase, and he obliged. that night I Slep and next morning I saw the same fellow and asked him for a chase and he asked me for Rs 500".

I asked him what happened next, and he said that he had been taking upto 3gms-4gms every single day since then. " I wish I had never gone to McLeodganj, Sir", he finished. I wrote his medication and thought that I would never forget stages of change again.

I finished up the OPD, went to the student centre in Punjab university and had a cup of tea and remembered all the great times I had in McLeodganj. Its time to go there again and to steer clear of the 'Happy' people.

iPad

Got a new iPad

A Sudden Memory

I was sitting at the dinner table when I remembered that it is my grandmother's death anniversary. Many questions came into my mind.
I also remembered how she died. Old and alone and in pain. Away from the people that she loved and who loved her back. She only had the people that she found odious for company in her last hours, not that it mattered a lot because she was to ill too know who was with her. But still. And that it is now only 6 years that sh is not here, having got 8 children into this world, I wonder how much more is she than just a dim, fading memory now. 
And where does one go. I know she had this morbid fear of dying but she died. But where did she go or is it just that she ended up in smoke.
What comforted me was that maybe she just came alive for a moment when I remembered her. And now that I am writing about her, a part of her with all her faults, malice and goodness will live on. 

In Praise of the Commonplace

The Honda Brio and Hanuman, a photo by Shubh M Singh on Flickr.

I have been writing an extremely boring and irritating book chapter about something I know nothing about. And there is a voice that tells me to write something about something that I know about.
So let me talk about photography. Or rather my article of faith.
1. A photograph should look like a photograph. I have no need or time for a photo that looks like a painting. If I wanted a photo that looks like a painting, I would much rather have a painting.
2. There is a photo, there is beauty everywhere. One does not have to go to an exotic location (all the time) to get a photo. There is always something to be found around you.
3. Less is more. There is no need for clutter. In real life, I am an extremely untidy person. But I like my photos to be clean with a few straight lines.
4. Don't cheap out. In whatever you do, equipment, effort, vision whatever.
Have fun. And others will follow some day.

Expensive Stuff

A few days back, I was at the contemplation phase of taking a decision that needed to be taken for some time. And a couple of my residents came to me talking about  a couple of guys who died before their time. And this spurred me again (after a previous splurge on the Nikon D200) on to a bigger splash. That of the Nikkor 70-200 2.8 VRii.
Man, if it wasn't such a beautiful piece of glass, I would have checked into the Psychiatry OPD and asked for an urgent admission into the ward.

It's Been Some Time

Yeah. I know. Photography, wife and kid, academics and misc other activities have taken up most of my time. And yeah, I know that I should be here more often.
So here is me, starting to try again. Like an addict, who, again is trying to remain sober.

Hooray For Noise Pollution

It is about 1 AM, and I cannot get to sleep. And it is not even noisy any more. About half an hour back, there was a party going on. Very close to where I live, and past midnight, the stillness of the night was being broken asunder by very loud music, and people dancing.
Was I being disturbed? Probably yes. I could not sleep and I wanted to. But my mind would go back to the thump of the bass, and the fact that the watch told me that it was way too late. Probably booze flowing too. I could find the keys to the gate, and after a while I jumped over the iron bars and walked into that house. I knew a couple of persons vaguely. I was filled with a rage that surprised me. And I was full of vile abuse, and said all I had in mind. Shortly thereafter the music stopped.
Its been half an hour since, and I am still wide awake and I spoiled someone's party.
I am so sorry.

Looking back

I was going through some posts in my blog today and suddenly it dawned on me. I have been on blogger for almost five years now. And there are certain conclusions that I could draw.
1. The readership of my blog is still crappy. I get maybe 7-8 visits in a day, and sometimes not even that.
2. The annual frequency of blogposts has gone down alarmingly.
3. The quality of writing has remained the same or maybe has deteriorated with a few bright spots.
4. I still think that I used to, and still do write fairly competently.
5. Reading some of those posts brought back a host of memories, more good than bad.
6. I love my blog.

Gurudwara Nankana Sahib-Pakistan

Gurudwara Nankana Sahib-Pakistan, a photo by Shubh M Singh on Flickr.

My most viewed picture on flickr, and by a long way. And it is not even a good picture.

Qutub Minar

Qutub Minar, a photo by Shubh M Singh on Flickr.

This saturday, I went to Delhi to get back a lens that I had given for repair. Luckily, and many many rupees later, it seemed to have been fixed up OK and seems that it wants to stay that way. Anyway, I had a few hours to kill and I decided to kill them at the Qutub Minar. I have seen it from afar on a number of occasions, mostly from the metro, but never actually got around to the sandstone myself. And I must say that it is one of the most interesting things ever.
The way that architecture involved, the hindu elemnets, and the people milling around. All made for a very interesting and enriching afternoon. I took my 300mm for a walk as well, and it is now ok.
As an aside, I realized that the Saket metro station is probably closer to the Qutub minar than the Qutub Minar railway station.