My other blog (Prof. blog)


Magic of modern medicine

Got my left eye operated for a cataract. The whole operation was over in twenty minutes. No injections, no bleeding, no pain. I was talking all the time with the doctor as he was operating my eye and scooping out the cataract. Unbelievable. And all that was done in a hospital close to home. I remember the day when my dad got operated thirty years ago. And he had to wear a spects which looked like a crushed binocular. I am typing this blog within two hours after the surgery.

Hats off to the progress,



How to comment on my blogs......

It is always a pleasure to notice the number of people who care to read my blogs, and also leave comments. Unfortunately, I am not able to decide on accepting or rejecting your comments, unless I know who you are. The notice for moderation I get from blogspot, does not give me your mail ID, so I cant actually check back with you.

Please remember to send me a separate mail with your comments and your mail ID too. Also identify yourself, tell me something about yourself, wher you are located, and what do you do in real life when you are not blogging. You see, I give all these details and much more in my websites which you can access from my blog pages.

Many thanks, and keep the comments flowing (along with your details).


drpartha AT gmail DOT com


Not all fathers are so lucky .....

A frail old man went to live with his son, daughter-in-law, and
four-year-old grandson.. The old man's hands trembled, his
eyesight was blurred, and his step faltered

The family ate together at the table. But the elderly
grandfather's shaky hands and failing sight made eating
difficult. Peas rolled off his spoon onto the floor. When he
grasped the glass, milk spilled on the tablecloth.

The son and daughter-in-law became irritated with the mess. 'We
must do something about father,' said the son. 'I've had enough
of his spilled milk, noisy eating, and food on the floor.'

So the husband and wife set a small table in the corner. There,
Grandfather ate alone while the rest of the family enjoyed
dinner. Since Grandfather had broken a dish or two, his food was
served in a wooden bowl.

When the family glanced in Grandfather's direction, sometimes he
had a tear in his eye as he sat alone. Still, the only words the
couple had for him were sharp admonitions when he dropped a fork
or spilled food.

The four-year-old watched it all in silence.

One evening before supper, the father noticed his son playing
with wood scraps on the floor. He asked the child sweetly, 'What
are you making?' Just as sweetly, the boy responded, 'Oh, I am
making a little bowl for you and Mama to eat your food in when I
grow up. ' The four-year-old smiled and went back to work.

The words so struck the parents so that they were speechless.
Then tears started to stream down their cheeks. Though no word
was spoken, both knew what must be done.

That evening the husband took Grandfather's hand and

gently led him back to the family table. For the remainder of his
days he ate every meal with the family. And for some reason,
neither husband nor wife seemed to care any longer when a fork
was dropped, milk spilled, or the tablecloth soiled.