Signum Vitalis

Signum Vitalis is the name of KMC's Magazine. Literally translated it means "Signs of Life". Pretty cool name, huh?

So anyway... I wrote something for the 2006 edition, but I don't know if it's good enough to make it in. The mag comes out only in October.

But I'm not gonna wait that long to put it up on my blog :) After all its something I wrote. So whether or not its published in Signum Vitalis, it WILL be published here:

TWO WEEKS WISER

Two weeks. That’s how long I’ve been here. And for all those who’re entering the portals of KMC for the first time, here is some information that you won’t find on the bulletin boards that the professors keep asking you to read all the time.

1. It rains here. Oh, you already knew about that? Read it on the website, huh? Well, its nothing like you ever imagined. I would say its worse than Cherrapunji, but I don’t want to anger the rain gods. Manipal is subjected to enough celestial thunder (no pun intended) without me soliciting more.

So, here’s how it works. It starts with you looking out of the window on a (seemingly) bright and sunny afternoon, thinking ‘Now’s a nice time to take my books (and laptop) to the library…’

You walk out naively, grabbing the umbrella as an afterthought, without even a cursory skyward glance. Trust me, its going to rain down on you. And chances are, it will happen when you’re atleast 15 meters away from any overhead projection that might offer a temporary refuge.

But you have your umbrella with you. If you’re lucky, you’ll also find that old windsheeter you hastily scrunched up into your backpack the day it rained so hard you almost caught pneumonia. Note that those two items will not help you in any way. They will deceive you in ways you never even dreamt of in your worst nightmares (yes, including those nightmares in which your cadaver lifts its right hand and pokes you in the eye with the fingernail of the index finger while simultaneously dripping cadaver fluid all over your new shoes).

Your umbrella will either refuse to open, or it will open grudgingly after its made sure that atleast fifty percent of your outer surface is wet. Also note that it is IMPOSSIBLE to find an umbrella that’s “big” enough. Either your backpack with be sticking out from the rain shadow area or the copious pleats of your patiala salwar will be wet and stuck together like the bedraggled feathers on wet crows.

It’s the Murphy’s law corollary applicable to Manipal:
If its raining, it will get wet.

The rainy season supposedly lasts only 3 to 4 months, but I’ll believe it only when I see it.

2. Another thing I learned about this place is that you should NEVER EVER walk around with food in your hand. This place is swarming with starving crows that couldn’t care less if they pierced your skin with their sharp beaks. No doubt the leftover mess food that is their (and our) regular sustenance is not nutritious enough to satisfy their hunger. Clearly they feel the primal urge to peck at whatever part of your body they can get at until you give up and throw your food in the air, at which point they forget about your existence. Which is why you should think twice before you venture outside with your breakfast clutched in your hands on a day that you woke up late on.



3. If you’re a first year student of Medicine, you will have Physiology Practicals. I would like to convey the fact that it is perfectly NORMAL to spill blood on your clothes, notebooks or other stationery. Shit happens. After all, you haven’t done very much until your Apron has a few stains on it. You might have some unpleasant experiences with frog muscles as well, but nothing can beat the joy of wearing an Apron that looks like it’s just come out of the Emergency Ward. It makes you feel way more important than a spotlessly clean Apron would.

4. It is important, in fact VITAL to have a good plan on your cell phone. Ideally, one which provides enough free (or almost free) messaging a day will serve the purpose delightfully. Don’t underestimate the power of an SMS. Sometimes, it’s the only thing keeping you awake in class during the indecently early lectures. It will also keep you up to date with homework assignments and provides a very convenient way to plan mass bunking. Its also a very reliable way to inform friends to get your attendance while you laze around in bed pretending its Sunday.

5. Another piece of advice that you might benefit from: Never sit in the first row of seats unless you’re absolutely sure you won’t fall asleep during the lecture. If you just can’t keep your eyes open, then the back rows (towards the corners) are the best place for you. You don’t want to unnecessarily put yourself (and the teacher) into uncomfortably embarrassing situations like the one illustrated below:

Teacher: “Hey you. Yes the red shirt in the second row. Stand up and tell us the origin and insertion of the Pectoralis major”
Red Shirt (stifling a yawn and bleary eyed): “Sir, it originates somewhere in the pectoral region…” (Pointing vaguely at several different sites on HIS pectoral region, hoping that the teacher’s myopic eyes will catch and focus only on the gesture corresponding to the correct answer).
Teacher squints at the class, hoping to call on someone who knows the answer so that he doesn’t have to waste too much time on the topic that he’s spent most his life on already.
Red Shirt is frantically rifling through his neighbor’s notes, hoping to chance upon the answer. 10 seconds later, realizing that its all greek and latin to him (no pun intended) he gives up and uses his last and final weapon.
Red Shirt: ‘Sir…actually Sir… we had so much homework in Physiology yesterday, I didn’t have time to revise anatomy.’
Teacher (growling) ‘Sit down!’

(Yes, most teachers have to be reminded frequently that theirs isn’t the only subject in First Year MBBS)


6. If you haven’t revised yesterday’s anatomy (The attachments of the muscles on the scapula), the best place to sit in Dissection Hall is right next to the teacher. This is the one and only case in which sitting next to the teacher can actually save you from the incessant questioning that occurs around the table, which can potentially put the Spanish inquisition to shame. If you’re sitting next to the teacher, YOU WILL NOT BE ASKED ANYTHING. Your teacher will assume that since you chose to sit right next to her, you have an inherent interest in anatomy, which she will construe to mean that you must have studied it all and therefore KNOW it all. She will point bones at everyone except the two people sitting on either side of her. Of course the disadvantage being that you have to get to DH ten minutes before class starts in order to bag those coveted seats. Conversely, the most dangerous place to sit in during DH is behind someone else. The teacher’s attention will be focused on you because she will assume you’re not paying enough attention, and I guarantee that all questions will make their way around the table (skipping the two positions mentioned earlier) and then settle squarely on your shoulders.


So, that’s the end of my Specific Advice. There’s always the common advice that everyone (from the fourth cousin of the Aunty next door whose nephew is a doctor; to your mom and dad) will throw at you atleast a couple of hundred times:

Make good friends (you need someone to give you notes for the classes you bunked). Eat well (Enough scope for that in Manipal… Too many options if you ask me. I have spent many breaks deliberating the topic only to realize in the end that its time for class again!!). Get some exercise (plenty scope for that as well, there are many endless corridors and flights of stairs to walk up and down on).

Remember, life at Med School doesn’t go down easily, but with a little ingenuity and a good selection of friends, you can learn to have fun. They say college is the best time of life. And we have more years than most other people!

Consider yourself lucky.