Musings: My Left Hand
Alarmed by the frequency with which senior citizens fall, as a doctor, I have always cautioned them on the risks of falling. I have pinpointed bathrooms and staircases to be the common culprits to guard against. Just when I thought I was going a good job with the warnings, lo and behold, I myself fell off my staircase by missing a step! Clearly a case of Physician, heal thyself!
I was rushed to an emergency room, and I would like to think that it was to verify the hospitality of the said hospital. Hospitals in this country, unlike the hosts in India, don’t keep you a moment more than necessary. I was soon discharged with a diagnosis of fracture of my forearm bone forearm bone, the ulna.
It was my right arm, I thought rather ruefully, as they dressed it with a confining cast. And so there I was—left with my LEFT hand.
The left hand
The left hand is universally less favored than the right one. In Sanskrit, the left side is called Vaam, which, when broadly translated, means contrary. Even in Christian literature, the left side is opprobriously called the sinister side.
Back in my days in the medical school, we had a distinguished surgeon, from what was then Bombay, invited as a guest speaker, who gave an impressive treatise on how our lifestyle revolves only around right-handed people. He remarked how our doors, switches, bathroom and kitchen facilities are all devised for right-handed people. Some countries force the use of only the right hand for school children so that every person in the country becomes right-handed.
As a Hindu priest, while officiating a wedding, when I instructed a bride to use her right hand for our rituals, she protested that she was left-handed. At that point, her mother said that she too was left-handed. I was left with no choice but to let them proceed with their dominant hand!
Now I looked upon my left hand with unprecedented awe and expectation. Initially, it was difficult to operate with my left hand. I realized, much to my chagrin, how dependent I had been on my right hand, and how much I had subordinated my left one through years of neglect and nonrecognition. Only because my right hand was functional, every activity of my humdrum life had been possible—whether it was eating, bathing, turning pages as I read a book, brushing my teeth, buttoning and unbuttoning my clothes, opening and closing bottles, and the list goes on. As I thought more about it, I really thanked my body that my heart was on my left side and still functioning so dependably!
His left foot taught me about my left hand
There is an old Chinese saying that when a student is ready, the teacher appears. The teacher may be from outside or may spring from within. For me, it flashed on a movie screen.
I had managed to convince myself that I don’t qualify to be called handicapped if only one of my two hands is nonfunctional. I was desperately looking for an inspiration to mobilize my left hand articulately. Suddenly, like a silver lining on a dark cloud, I remembered the movie, My Left Foot, which I had seen casually many years ago. Now I went on a spree to read about the true-life story of Christy Brown that it was based on. Born in 1932, Brown had severe cerebral palsy. He could not talk or walk. The only part of his body that he could control was his left foot. He first wrote the word “Mother” with his only functioning limb—his left foot. He subsequently started painting with it and then went on to write his own biography which culminated into the award-winning movie which was directed by Jim Sheridan and released in 1989.
His life, an inspiration to generations of handicapped people, inspired me to use my left hand while my right hand was recuperating after years of hard work.
I was astounded by the capacity of the body to cope, compensate and cooperate when one of its parts fails. No tree collapses because of one defunct branch. I soon learned that I could awaken the capacity of my left hand to accomplish all sorts of complicated assignments and seek compensatory help from other parts of the body. Our body is blessed with phenomenally efficient technology with a built-in repair service of utmost dependability. The human body is such a gestalt, a complex mereological term, putting together the intriguing relationship between a part and its whole. The good thing about physical science is that it works for you even when you don’t understand its underlying mechanism.
I could type this article with just my left hand. Now I am ambidextrous!
Dr. Bhagirath Majmudar, an Emeritus Professor of Pathology and Obstetrics-Gynecology at Emory University, Atlanta, is also a Sanskrit Visharada and Jagannath scholar, the highest academic honor in Sanskrit. As a Hindu priest, he has conducted about 400 weddings, many of them interfaith. He is a poet, philosopher, Vedantist, actor and playwright. He can be reached at: bmajmud1962@gmail.com.
Enjoyed reading Khabar magazine? Subscribe to Khabar and get a full digital copy of this Indian-American community magazine.
