ANAND
I woke up to the phone ringing. It was Karan Shandilya. Knowing Anand’s medical history, I felt a chill as I took the call. I heard a distraught Karan say, “Doctor, my dad is no more. He collapsed after his morning walk.” It was eight am on New Years day.
I reached Anand’s house in fifteen minutes. As usual, I was late and he was waiting. This time he was in an ambulance and I didn’t have to make my usual excuses. I jumped in and saw the medic trying CPR. As the ambulance took off towards Holy Spirit Hospital, I joined in and tried to resuscitate him. I could imagine him telling me, “No Samir, this is not going to help. Just relax and take it easy.”
I met Anand Shandilya a couple of years into my practice at a PALS course. We were both delegates; he as usual, thoroughly prepared; I as usual, unprepared. I think Tushar Maniar was also doing this course. I remember Anand always saying how this was one of the two game changers in his academic life. He went on to become perhaps the most loved PALS instructor traveling the country doing the two things that define him in public memory- teaching and making friends.
Anand was the real life “Anand” from Hrishikesh Mukherjee’s film. One thought he was looking to make friends; he was really looking to find the best in others. There was not one person he grudged, though there were some who did enough to trouble him. He remembered (he was not naïve to not understand), but he forgave. He believed that life is too short to hold grudges. Whenever I go for a talk, and I find the atmosphere a little stiff, I just say “Do you know Anand Shandilya?”, and everyone breaks into a smile. There can be a real contest for the “I am Anand Shandilya’s Best Friend Award” and you would find everyone from PG Residents to his batch mates, not to mention pediatricians from Kutch to Kohima, lining up confidently.
His other life changing moment came when he met Dr Amdekar while they were traveling together for a talk. I remember him telling me how he was completely taken up by Sir and he started attending Sir’s Thursday clinics at Sion.
Anand’s life revolved around Dr Amdekar. He worshipped every word Sir said spending hours analysing whatever he heard Sir say. He had this habit of noting things to ask Sir (other than academics) and would relish Sir’s explanation. Sir’s golden touch to Anand’s life helped Anand move into the orbit he had assumed for the last few years. Together with Rajesh Chokhani, they took amazing academics to the entire country travelling, to quote Dr Amdekar, “..30 weekends a year”!
He read and read and learned and learned. He loved sending references to Dr Amdekar and Dr Raju Khubchandani and then calling up and learning about that case.
Anand loved his patients; he genuinely saw little children as friends rather than patients. He cared, which is why he cured. He would follow up every child. Every time he referred a child, he would call and say, “Listen, this is such an amazingly nice family. Please help them.” A day before he passed, I saw a child for follow up who he had referred three years ago, so I took a selfie of the two of us and sent him with a caption, “Hello Anand Sir”. He replied, instantly (and I am copy pasting from his message on my whatsapp) “Hello Aayushi Kar and Samir Sir”. And these were his last words to me.
Once traveling home from dinner at Deepak Ugra’s house, Anand told me how he had suffered a huge health scare at a time when he was a young father and how he resolved to change his life style. He underwent the biggest metamorphosis one could imagine and transformed his personal and professional life. After Dr Amdekar, he was one of the first to begin group practice so he could have time off for himself and his family.
The thing that really set Anand apart from all of us was his simplicity and honesty. Anand never lied, never concealed, never schemed. He believed all these petty things hurt our self as much as others. If he did not like something, he would go and say it in the most direct but polite non-manipulative manner. And his humble way of putting things never failed to make the other person see the point. Anand never hurt anyone- simply because he did not grudge anyone. He always managed to see the person apart from the behaviour.
Anand had enormous amount of love and patience in his heart- for everyone. From his man friday, Munna, to the exam going student at the PG clinic, to the uneducated simple patient in his clinic to the most pesky irritating delegate in a workshop, Anand never lost his cool. His way of analysing life’s situations was as brilliant as his analysis of a case. His ability to break up the most complex condition into a simple take home message was his most astounding quality. He was the master of humour in brevity - a funny photograph was enough to sum up the most complex topic.
I have been the person who irritated him the most; because he would let me get away with it. He would love listening to new "dhinchak" numbers; he said they were so full of life and upbeat. I would chide him and make him listen to my versions of glum sorrowful urdu poetry or old sad songs. He would threaten to jump off the car if I didn’t stop. So I would then address the same to Munna. Munna dared not laugh and it was funny to see Anand try to ignore us. I was always late; he was so punctual that you could set your watch by him. At 9 am sharp, when there weren’t enough delegates in the hall, he would be after me, “Abbey, Chalu kar! Public aayega. Tu time dekh!” I loved to irritate him by pulling off the many pens from his pocket. “Arre, pen ki dukaan!”, I would say. “Tereko touch bhi nahin karne ko milega, tu idhar dekh bhi mat!” “Bhai, mera presentation dekh na”, i would plead. “Tereko bol ke koi faida hai kya? Itna bada pakaoo presentation kisko sunne ka hai? Isko cut kar!” That goes for this write up too. I’m sure he wouldn’t have read such a long one.
Anand started preparing for his presentations the moment he accepted the invitation. As humourous as they were, Anand took his speeches very seriously and toiled endlessly on them. He discovered the Précis format and used it tellingly in his talks. Last Saturday at the Pedicon mega meeting, he made it a point to enquire that the audio visual system supported this format.
Wherever Anand went, laughter followed. And flowed. There could not be a serious gloomy room if Anand was present in it. Many of you may remember his “Dil pe mat le yaar, kidney pe ley..!” and “Hataa saawan ki ghata” were his own ‘Anand’ style of saying ‘que sera sera’! His sense of timing was fabulous. Once I opened my laptop to show him something and there was a ‘thin’ layer of dust on it. “Have you powdered your laptop?”, he remarked! Deepti Kanade, my colleague and psychologist at New Horizons, was his friend too. This is about ten years back- Deepti was very thin and petite. She was carrying one of those very tiny ’Aesus’ laptops, so Anand looks at her and says, “Tumhare Centre mein mg/kg ke hisaab se laptop lete hain kyaa?” His imitation of “Baburao Ganpatrao Apte” (Paresh Rawal in Andaz Apna Apna) could make you crack up in the midst of the most serious conversation.
And given my proclivity to living foolishly, I had more than ample opportunity for the latter. For anything that bothered you, in personal or professional life, you had to make a call and by the time the call ended, you were sorted. I remember one of my last such conversations when I called him for help in a spell of sadness and he asked me, “What is your problem?” I had an unending list. And he kept asking me the same question, “Yes but what is your problem?” Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore and said, ”What the hell do you mean- ‘what is your problem’? What have I been telling you all this time?” He replied, as calm as always. “Yes Samir, but you haven’t heard my full question,” What is your problem now? Right now?”
I was stunned. He was right. My heart was beating fine, I could breathe fine, I could walk, talk. I had money in my pocket, food on the table, people who loved me. The rest was perspective.
Today, Anand is no longer with us physically. In spirit, Anand is always with us.
And that is because Anand lived his life by making it a message. Of unconditional love, of integrity, of humility, of understanding the other person’s pain, of trying to make everyone smile, of being rational and simple and free of prejudice. He epitomised “Zindagi badi honi chahiye, lambi nahin!“ We were fortunate to have this angel in our midst for so many years. Heaven has him back now.
I love you, my friend! I don’t believe you are not with me. I will never accept you are no more. You have become a part of my DNA. I am grateful for your presence in my life.
Samir Hasan Dalwai.
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