Of Lunch and Malindi Chai Frappes: Little Things Matter More Than You Realize

I'm not about to post an article that tells you something you didn't already know. (Which actually applies to a good chunk of whatever I write, really - so I think it's more accurate to say that this will be one of the more obvious-than-usual articles, actually. I'm not even fishing for compliments here, by the way - you just think about it. Mostly I just point out stuff you might have not focused on as much, but as for having something entirely unheard of? Maybe with poetry, sure, but…anyway).

You've heard the simple statement about how little things can mean so much, or how 'you never know when life will turn around'.

That's not even a question by the way - I'm willing to bet you've read or heard the analogy of how a change in one degree in the course of an aeroplane/ship would lead to a destination change of a bazillion miles, too…or maybe you've heard what I think of as the NASA version (and that is why figures have to be accurate to the 100th decimal place, or something like that), but either way, I promise you, you know this.

Well then, Aditi, why are you writing this? (And why am I still reading?)

The thing is, this is a happy story, which I like to talk and think about, and I'm just looking to add my voice to that chorus. I always find it easier to connect to and imbibe such things when they're more realistic and applicable (random fact that you may or may not have known about me: I don't fly planes or steer ships or man aircrafts) - and I feel like my life is pretty quiet, so if it can happen to me, it can happen to anyone. And, you know, it's my blog….and that's also enough unnecessary justification, isn't it?

Which is not to say that I'm going to get to the point right away. I just have to mention that chances are, if you know me, you already know about everything I'm about to share (but it's a nice reminder, right?)

And now I get to the point. My story.

The story of how one lunch snowballed into something completely unexpected, and, if we're being dramatic enough, borderline miraculous.

It was a lunch at Java, on the 8th of May, 2018.

(That's another reason this post has come right now - two days ago, it was the six month 'anniversary' (anniversary suggests annual and so it's technically incorrect to use the word, in my opinion…) of that day and I got kinda sentimental. But that's not saying much).

What's remarkable about this lunch is that I found myself in the company of doctors who I didn't really know - doctors who study and work at the Aga Khan University Hospital. I was in my second week of an elective at the time, which is why I ended up at that lunch, by the way. I'd actually been doing it with a friend, who was (obviously) the most familiar face and my company in this 'foreign' territory, but for some reason, she hadn't come in that day.

I mentioned the 'second week' thing, by the way, not because it adds to the narrative and makes it sound that much cooler (now you know another something I do as a writer! Le gasp), but rather to give you the idea that in as much as I had seen some of the faces around (and they had, me), it was still a setting where I was amidst 'strangers'. Why pretend, I was a bit intimidated (the typical 'I'm new here' kind of intimidation, really - they'd actually been pretty nice and warm and welcoming - and no, I'm not saying that because someone someday might read this. #whatistact), but it wasn't that big of a deal (remember how nothing is absolute or ever that serious?) even then. It was more of, 'okay, I'm here, let's do this' - it's not that I was incredibly uncomfortable or that I see this as some huge traumatic experience (that I 'survived' and learned from and thereafter turned into an extrovert…).

Remember how this was all about how little things have the potential to change a lot? So this lunch was a little thing, in that way - I didn't think too much of how I struck up conversation with one of the doctors and talked about Lord-knows-what. That content isn't important - the simple fact that we talked, is, but again, it’s not that I realized this at the time. On that day, I went home thinking that it was pretty cool that I'd been able to have a pretty fun conversation with someone I barely knew before, and that I'd have one more familiar face to greet for the next week and a half. I remember having that kind of thought, anyway - what I journaled was something even more meaningless: how the Malindi Chai Frappe was ridiculously sweet and probably fulfilled my caloric requirements for the next three days. (and now you know - sometimes I might have a serious game face while writing and it might be about something absolutely pointless).

It should be obvious, at this point, even if you don't know this story, how that conversation sparked off a friendship. I mean, considering the context of it all, that's the only direction it could go…but of course we won't leave it at that, don't worry. After all this hyping up and I've done, you really don't think I'd leave this story as shorter than the prelude, do you?

It really isn't that straightforward, either. After that lunch, things played out how I'd thought, in that I just became that much more comfortable with that specific doctor, and when we'd cross ways in the corridors or doctors room, I'd be more at ease about saying hello and starting up a conversation.

Not that we had any kind of deep meaningful discussion for that long in the time that I was within the department. It really was very, very insidious and low-key. In fact, if it weren't for what came after, I wouldn't even be mentioning this - it was that minor. (also, I'm doing a fantastic job of dramatizing this, aren't I?)

What happened after is that my elective in that department ended, and I moved on to another one. I wasn't too far from where I was originally - my 'camp' (i.e. where I'd leave my bag and spend most of my time) shifted from the first floor to the second, and so there were a couple of days when I'd still meet my doctor friend. At that point though, we were friendly and familiar enough that I'd feel confident enough to go over whenever I'd see her, and poke my nose into what she was doing.

Really.

Now I'm trying to be concise (the irony!). I'm inquisitive like that, and so if I ever see someone doing something that looks remotely interesting, I go over to ask - and that was just a thing I'd started to do at Aga Khan: go to a doctor and ask them what case they were dealing with.

This is where things really took off, I suppose. There were a few days when I ended up tagging along with her to see what she was doing, either because I felt like it, or because my 'work' with surgery ended early, and I didn't want to go home. I also made another friend, by the way - another fellow elective student, and she was with my doctor-friend, so it all worked out beautifully - I think that when I went to join my peer (I use that term so that we can distinguish who's who), I also (obviously) interacted with Dr. Friend, and that helped build that relationship.

This went on for a couple of weeks, and because that's enough time for me to work my charm (it's never in the blink of an eye, unfortunately…), we became pretty good friends.

And I had a lot of fun, too. The holiday was still ongoing, so I decided that I'd go back to the department of medicine (at this point the dates I'd initially applied for had passed) and extend my elective period. (We were to open on June 18th, initially, and my elective would have ended on June 8th. But then the memo came through that we had no opening date in sight, so…)

Without a doubt, a big chunk of my drive to extend the elective period came from the fact that I had this one doctor friend who I could join, and learn from, and it would all be cushy and jolly. Medicine is hella interesting, by the way, and so that was another incentive, but I really can't say that having someone I knew fairly well wasn't an important factor.

And that.

Turned into everything.

I became more friendly with the other doctors.

I became more familiar with the system.

I became more comfortable in that setting.

I became more engaged.

I became more motivated to stay on.

I stayed on.

I had fun.

I realize that things like 'I saw a lot' and 'I learned so much' would also fit in here, but honestly, that was never the motivation. I'm the type of person who likes seeing new things unfold, and this was a different experience every day - and that's fun!

You know how you sometimes recklessly do something just for the sake of it? Something you know won't give you any reward or kickback in the long run - or you don't expect it, anyway - but you do that thing just because you enjoy it? That was this elective for me. Not once did I think about how I might be better off in school as a result of this (the registrar who I had to confess to that I could not hear a wheeze the other day is my witness haha) - I was just enjoying seeing and doing different things in the presence of such wonderful people.

It's all a direct chain reaction, the way I see it now. (And remember how hindsight is 20/20? *fights urge to insert joke about how that's the only 20/20 I have a shot at anyway, because I do rather prefer how I look with glasses than without… - and fails (at fighting it off I mean))

Going back and getting to know everyone better automatically meant that I became more comfortable with tagging along with anyone. Getting the exposure made me aware of everything else that went on and gave me the drive to go into other specialities (again, because that brings an element of newness). Understanding the system better meant that I was able to participate more actively…dude, I really shouldn't be insulting your intelligence by spelling this out. I'm tempted to actually delineate every single thing that culminated as a result that I am especially grateful for, like how this has led to me dipping a foot into the Research pool, but it's really too much.

The important thing is, I ended up having a lot of fun with my elective (as you've heard about a hundred times by now), and it is easily one of the most fun and rewarding and memorable experiences I've had. I'm not even saying 'in 2018', I mean, when you consider everything that I've ever done or seen or experienced - this comes right near the top.

I think that's actually a concise way of explaining why it is that I'm so grateful for the experience with AKU: it's given me a billion memories that make me smile.

And it's not that they're all big and dramatic things - some of these 'memories' I refer to are just by-the-way funny comments someone may have made, or acts of kindness I was blessed to receive, or intelligent observations someone may have made that left me in awe, or just insightful and fun conversations I've had. There's a few more major ones too though, of course, like how, because of being there, I pulled my first-ever all-nighter (okay, I had about an hour and a half of rest, but it doesn't count!)…but those are stories for another day and setting.

I'm a big sucker for that kind of thing, in case you couldn't tell :P

A lot of people who'd hear that I was still there would express surprise at my being there and comment on how 'hard working' I was, or something like that, but you know now why it was easy to stay there.

It's leaving that was hard.

I was amongst some ridiculously smart and inspiring people, seeing new and cool and interesting things, without any stress or responsibility of 'work'…in a way it's like being a kid again. All those jokes/reflective posts you see about how we never realize how good we had it as kids? That kind of thing - except here I had the insight to be able to truly appreciate what I had.

I realize I'm repeating myself over and over again, but I feel like just saying 'it was a rewarding experience that I am grateful for' does not even remotely convey just how much this means to me.

But it does.

And all of this only came up because of one lunch where two strangers sat next to each other.

Heck, I just remembered something else.

I could go back and put this near the top, but I can't be bothered.

Service was actually really slow that day. I'd actually come with someone else, a doctor whose team I was on at the time (and so the next-most familiar person I knew) - and so chances are I'd have latched onto them, but their order came through a lot faster than ours, and so they'd left. That's actually how I ended up next to Dr. First Friend - we were both just waiting for food.

Which I mention because I think that's another very fortunate coincidence - and just emphasizes again how the little things can turn into something so much greater.

It's almost like one of the stereotypical 'that day the train was late and I caught glimpse of her and now she's my wife' stories, actually, isn't it?

The point is, there's truth to them.

Not the wife thing, I mean, but the whole idea that you never really know how significant something minor could end up being.

And you know how I mentioned at the start that this memory is one that makes me feel hopeful?

It goes along this very chain of thought - I couldn't tell that day that the lunch would lead to one of the best things that ever happened to me. That could happen with anything else, too. Heck, it might even be happening - and I just have no idea yet.

That's a very nice and comforting thought, yo.

It's not practical to hold onto hope as the solution to all of the world's problems, I know that by the way… but I don't see the harm in it if it makes your day that much brighter.

And that was really the whole point of this article.

(So the TL;DR message is simple: you never know how something seemingly insignificant could change your life. It's not just a cliché, it's true. So chin up and keep doing what you're doing!)

Thanks for sticking around till the end, if you did! It means a lot to me that you'd take this trip down Memory Lane with me.

That said, I'd also like to hear about it if you've got your own story to share!

Do let me know.