The Mentor

 

My first hospital, my first love

First for everything

Operations, on calls,

My first night shift

Staring at death at close distance

 

The photograph moves me

Nostalgia, smoke like, serene, pungent

Wraps me in misty memories,

 

Familiar faces,

I caress them one by one

 

I remember

The grey chips' stone corridors

I treaded day in and day out

The smell of decay and disinfectants

Of triumph and defeat

On the battle grounds of wards

We were part of it all

 

I remember the grand rounds,

Audits and meetings

Teaching sessions and back seat siestas

It was all a part of learning

 

I never realised

How he gave us wings

To float on our own

He left without a goodbye

And faded into the beyond

I miss him,

I sigh!

I feel him smiling

Our bond is strong

 

They were wonderful times

Thought they would never change

How mistaken the discernment

How cruel life? 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I was on the facebook and saw an old photograph of our surgical dept at DHQ hospital Rawalpindi. Since then I have been trying to write something befitting. This is a tribute to our beloved Cheema Sb who was my mentor along with Dr Asif Zafar. I miss those days and times we spent together. 

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heatherburns35's picture

the mentor

this is a wonderful write about your mentor, and your first hospital.
you express yourself so very well. I feel your emotional ties here.
(I know a family living in Rawalpindi.) well done.
hbw
be back later to read some more of your poems