The ENT at Sadr Bazaar

It is December and winter is upon us. I cannot believe I looked forward to this during the 120 degree days of summer. But here it is. And along with it, as they say in Delhi, "meri to bolti band ho gaye" - roughly translated it means I've lost my voice. Acute uppper respiratory stress. I can neither laugh nor speak without coughing.

This happened to me 2 years ago - what seemed like a benign cough in Nov that did not leave until Feb. Lots of people go around Delhi assuming this is how it is to be. A cold is a natural part of winter. Silly me - I like to laugh, i like to talk and I think I'm entitled to a healthy respiratory system.

So I went along with the usual cockail of meds in my medicine chest - Tylenol, Nyquil, Motrin, Benadryl.......... and when 2 days later things seeemed worse rather than better, I called my cousin Bana to ask her what I should do. Go to the impressive Privat Hospital next door ?

She and Amit were unanimous - go see the ENT Specialist that they consult. They have tried a number of different ENTs over the years, and they have found this one to be the best.

So yesterday morning I went to see the ENT. Bana came along cos she was convinced I would not find the place. After seeing the place, I wonder if it was because she thought that left to myself I would not enter the building / clinic. It certainly was not the kind of place suited to my NRI sensibilities.

Dr. Gera runs his practice in a crowded building on the main street running through Sadr Bazaar the old part of Gurgaon. This is the place that until 5 years ago, was the heart of Gurgaon - a hub for the local villagers to come in for supplies and essentials.

A set of rickety steps leads to his clinic. The waiting room was about 12 feet long by 8 feet. It had 3 rows of benches running the length of the hall, with a reception table in one corner. There were 2 guys huddled over the reception desk.

The waiting hall was jam packed. Bana said not to worry - she would poke her head in first chance she got. The people waiting their turn ranged from laborers to tribal people. The domestic staff at Beverly Park or in DLF Phase 2 for that matter are all more sophisticated than the people in that hallway. Traffic in and out of the doctor's cubicle was fast - the line of some 10 people vanished right in front of us and before Bana had a chance to poke her head in we were being ushered in.

The office itself was about 8 feet wide and no more than 4 feet deep. The doc sat facing a computer and his testing equipment in the corner. The desk with 2 waiting chairs remaining largely unused. He asked me to sit on his examination stool. The exam was finished in 1 minute. He spent the remaining 9 minutes catching up with Bana, telling us about the comparitive merits of the Paras Hospital vs the brand new Alchemist. . About how Paras made a consulting physician waste their time because they opened their OT so late... how is a doctor to make any money if he cannot get to his dispensary on time ? Interspersed with that were questions about my medical history and explanations of my symptoms.

Several times the "compounder" poked his head in, each time with a more agitated look on his face. We finally took our leave.

They would not take my INR 300 professional courtesy - what with Bana being a doctor and all.

I had noticed all the other patients being charged between 200 and 600. At an average of 1 patient every 5 minutes (and there was certainly the traffic to sustain that) and office hours some 5 hours a day, 6 days a week - that would come out to some 72,000 INR a month a little shy of US$2000 . Maybe my math is wrong ? Maybe he has another source of income ?

While we were inside, the line had grown to standing room only, so I am sure the guys at the reception desk were happy to see us leave.

The pharmacy was adjacent to the doctor's office. They had everything but the cough syrup... and surprisingly, there was another pharmacy 2 doors down that had it.

So in one stop and in under 30 mins I had consulted with a specialist got all my meds and was on my way back home. Amazing - sometimes I've waited that long in the GP's examination room, in Poughkeepsie, waiting for the doctor to show up.

And once again I am amazed by the efficiency of resource utilization and private enterprise in India.

And yes, the meds he recommeded are working - I am on the mend. By the end of the week I may even have my bolti back.

Shopping along Gurgaon's Killer Highway

NH-8 which connects Delhi to Jaipur runs through Gurgaon. The Haldiram factory with its beautiful lawns is a place at which most tourists stop for a breakfast of puri and aloo subzi on their way. In the last 2 years this has gone from being a 4 lane parking lot to a modern 8 lane highway.

On most parts of the highway anyway. In the old city of Gurgaon by the Rajeev Gandhi Chowk and the Hero Honda factory it is still a very densely populated 4 lane parking lot. Humanity teems onto the street in cars, trucks, buses, auto and cycle rickshaws, bicycles and other 2 wheelers, and on foot. Cows, dogs, sheep, goats all join them in the migratory path towards Rajasthan. As a matter of fact, the shepherds and cowherds of Rajasthan used to travel up this road to the Gurgaon region in search of green pastures. You see the herds grazing on the various open spaces outside the city.

Earlier this used to be just a very irritating road to traverse. Now it has turned deadly. The wide luxurious highway has been welcomed by the people of this region with enthusiasm and joy. People zip down this road at 100 or 120 KMPH. The most frequent cause of car fatalities then occurs as the car spins out of control as its tires burst ! The 2nd most frequent cause is when they ram at full speed into a stalled vehicle on the highway. The third is when the pedestrians bravely attempt to cross the highway. In the crowded Hero Honda chowk area it is still the old fashioned speeding truck mowing down the plucky pedestrian, or the little car that gets jammed between 2 larger slow moving vehicles. And hence the term "Killer Highway".

I was travelling along this highway earlier this week - returning from the Manesar Heritage Village - it used to be a resort literally in the middle of nowhere and gained popularity as a venue for corporate training programs. Now Manesar is turning into a full fledged technology park as people relocate there in the quest for some fresh air.

I was returning from our StepUP training program there - and for a change this was in broad daylight. As the traffic slowed in the semi-urban area of the Hero Honda chowk i started to examine the shops lining the highway. This is what in Haldwani we call the Bajaar.

First thing I saw was a Milk Dairy. Now having seen the herds along the way, and recognizing that this was a rural area - I was looking for a Goregaon style tabela replete with cows / buffaloes and fresh milk being sold out the store front. Alas - no cows - just big containers of milk. Perhaps the cows were further away.

Krishna Greens with the picture of a beautiful lawn on the signboard caught my attention next. I tried to figure out what they might be selling. As I looked down towards the counter I saw they were actually selling greens - leafy green bhajis of different kinds, cabbages, cauliflowers...... I thought my mind was playing tricks with me - how could the villagers of Gurgaon be buying greens - and the picture looked like lawns - was it grass seed ? Why would they buy it in a store. It was only when I saw the 3rd one that I realized that Krishna Greens was in the business of installing lawns. The vegetable stall owner probably made more money from the advertising revenue .

Past usual chai, mithai and samosa shops was a sign that had me catch my breath - SAIL shop. Not boat but SAIL. There are frequent sightings of camels - the ship of the desert - in this part of the world - but a SAIL shop. And they weren't stocked with any sailboats as far I could see. Across the street was another, larger SAIL shop - and that is when I realized - SAIL is the Steel Authority of India Ltd - SAIL is a "brand" of Steel - distinct from the one sold by Tata Steel.

Away from Rajeev Chowk and as one approaches the urban, modern Gurgaon you see the tribal people of Rajasthan who have set out their very colorful and beautiful pieces of hand thrown blue pottery. They set their shop up in the dirt by the side of the road. Finally, something I can relate to!!! And then before I know it I am turning into IFFCO Chowk and onto MG Road home of the big glitzy malls. Just as crowded and chaotic as the Bajaar near the Hero Honda plant - but oh so much more expensive !!