The Erosion Of The Hoodoos
Does time take away the best parts of us? Or is what it leaves behind that matters?
Jay had been a self-assured child and his youth was dotted with constant comments of “Don’t be over-confident!” So, as he sat by the window today, coffee cup in hand, staring at the horizon, he wondered where that confidence had gone. He looked at the cliffs in the canyon, with beautiful columns carved out by the wind and water over the years. They were called hoodoos, and some looked pencil thin. It amazed him that they hadn’t crumbled down to dust altogether. Maybe the years had also added a resilience to the thin spine of stone holding up the colossal head. The analogy came to his mind almost instantaneously. Had the experiences of life slowly eroded his confidence, until he had but only a thin streak left to keep his head afloat?
Jay went back in time, as was his wont. To a time when he was still a cocky young man. He hadn’t performed to his standards in the exams but had done well enough to get into a government medical college. He was excited to learn, to work hard and be the best he could be. That was the one constant in his life. He was competitive, very competitive, but the competition was always with himself. He gave it his best and soon he was top of the class getting a score that was unimaginable. His confidence had taken a hit earlier, but it was still very much intact. Then came the first clinical rotation. He could still remember the day like it happened yesterday. Remembered every detail, as if it was happening right now, right there in the lap of those magnificent hills.
Their college was a smaller one, with a quirky assortment of buildings serving as the hospital. The orthopedics operating room was a shingle covered structure in the corner with a verandah at the back. There he sat in the warmth of the winter sunlight, Dr. Sen, the lecturer teaching their class of twenty students. The students all bright-eyed, their enthusiasm shining brighter than their fresh white coats. It was the first day of clinical rotations. The first day they would see patients, the first day they would feel like a doctor. And there sat Dr. Sen – not much older than them. Maybe a decade between him and the youngest of his students. He sat on a rickety old chair in the middle of the verandah, one foot on his other knee, worn out cheap chappals dangling at it's end. He looked at the twenty eager faces around him and smiled, a smile that Jay could not really understand initially, but unfortunately understood soon.
It was like Jay could hear Dr. Sen's slow, gravelly voice say, “Welcome my bright-eyed sheep, welcome to the slaughter house. I see some of you smiling, all you of looking cheerful and happy. I am sure you are all proud of being in a medical college. Everyone of you excited to be a doctor. You took a test that over a hundred thousand people take, and were probably in the top one percent to make it here. Proud statistics, right?” Jay remembered realizing the significance of what he had achieved at that point. He had never thought of the statistics, all he knew was that he could have done better if he hadn’t spent most of the last two years hanging out with his friends.
Dr. Sen went on, “Wrong!” He seemed to relish the look of surprise on the young faces around him. “You are the dregs of the selection process. You are what is left behind after the bottom of the lake has been dredged. Do not think of yourself as the cream, think of yourself as what is left behind once the cream has been taken out.” This attack had thrown Jay off. He looked at the faces of his fellow students, most of whom thought coming second was a failure, that a 99 out of 100 was a point too less. The brightness had suddenly darkened, even the white coats suddenly looked grey and dusty. “You are at one of the worst medical colleges in the state. Even the private colleges are better than this one. So, don’t go thinking you have achieved anything. You are fools and the next 4-5 years will prove it to you. I’m sure a lot of you are here just because you are good at guessing on multiple choice questions and most of you will amount to nothing in life. No one wants to come here, not even the people teaching you. They are here because they got nowhere or were forced to be here.”
Dr. Sen had a lot to say that day, but not much to teach. The irony of his statements did not escape Jay but Dr. Sen seemed oblivious in his tattered chappals. Jay was smart enough to know where he was coming from and not take his words personally. He knew the college was good, and Dr. Sen was bitter. The next few years would be some of the best in his life. He went about college in his usual irreverent style. No one back then would describe him as lacking in confidence. A few years later when life became uncertain and the future looked hazy, that winter morning came flooding back to him. A day that had started so enthusiastically but had ended in such bitterness. He was surprised at the details he remembered and how much of an impression it had left on him.
Jay looked at the hoodoos again and wondered if they had eroded some more while he sipped his coffee. About how it must've started with the softer layers being stripped away first, while the harder layers were more resilient. Was the harder layer all that was left now, so nothing would carve out further chunks? Some winds and waters would have raged and stormed while others had been gentler, almost caressing and soothing, while still wearing the pillars down. Jay finished his coffee, tossed away the empty cup and smiled. Without the abrasion and the disintegration, would these rocky spires have looked as magnificent and majestic? Would he, and the other tourists, come here if they were just another shapeless rock or mountain? Had not the blows of time only chiseled away the weakness and brought forth the strength? He had never forgotten Dr. Sen, but was it time? Jay picked up his backpack and set off on the trail – to experience the sun setting on this impressive facade.