Game of maktoob

Writing about a renal transplant journey is not easy. It means reopening chapters you carefully folded away. It means remembering the darker side of your own life — the blood, the bandages, the endless vials drawn for tests. The shivering during dialysis. The occasional fainting. The swings between high BP and low BP. The slow erosion of modesty. The feeling of being exposed — not just physically, but emotionally. Powerless. Strangely, it wasn’t just the surgery or the recovery that haunted me. It was the time before the surgery. Those months were heavier. Darker. Filled with uncertainty. That phase planted seeds of self-doubt — questioning every decision I had made, and then questioning the questioning itself. At times, I allowed others to make decisions for me because I no longer trusted my own clarity. Even now, as I sit down to write this, the same questions resurface: Should I write this? Why should I write this? Am I seeking solace? Sympathy? Will this make me lo...

Let’s lighten things up a little. I had my first transplant in 2015. I lost that kidney — with all due respect — in the Covid era. Then came the second in 2023. And the third in 2024. By now, hospitals feel less like unfamiliar territory and more like places where parts of my life unfolded. We all know how highly carbonated drinks — loaded with sugar — can quietly damage kidneys over time. Yet they’re consumed across the world every single day. Of course, health varies from person to person. Genetics differ. Lifestyles differ. Who am I to judge? But yes — excessive carbonated drinks aren’t kidney-friendly. Now here’s the irony. I come from a land surrounded by tea estates. Sri Lanka . Tea doesn’t just grow there — it flows in our blood. High tea isn’t a luxury for us. It’s culture. It’s identity. And I love tea. Even post-surgery, I still debate how much tea is “acceptable.” Morning tea is a ritual — the ignition switch for the day. It fuels me through meetings, re...