I will leave this job to the person who knows it the best – my wife! Nidhi is an ENT surgeon working as Senior Consultant at Shroff Hospital, Daryaganj, New Delhi. We met in 1987 at Maulana Azad Medical College, married in 1993, have two children and have been blessed with a happy journey so far.

Here is what Nidhi has to say about me:

“What would I call him? What can I call him? I (and he, too!) am not given to endearments of Darling and Honey! That is the refuge of those who may be comfortable making their affections and feelings an object for public consumption. Not him. And definitely not me.

He is foremost an Eye Surgeon. I still remember the time he had to have a forearm surgery on his right arm... he was worried sick what could happen if they injured a vital nerve?! (Doctors form bad patients).

Sometimes I have to drag him out of that role and remind him to be a father and a husband.

He almost defines his existence by his professional role and lives and breathes the dedication and care he lives each day. With a hand that is rock steady and a confidence that is as unshakable he operated on his own mother's eyes, my father's eyes and now, on the eye of my brother's mother-in-law who had a critical clinical situation. The anaesthesiologist standing by for my mother-in-law (she is prone to cardiac arrhythmias) remarked, " were we able to monitor your husband's pulse, I am sure we would be able to set the watch by it. His hand did not waver even for a microsecond during the surgery. And I had to remind myself that this surgeon is operating on his own mother!"

Meet Sanjay, the doctor.

He has been a builder, a dedicated worker and a leader who has always led from the front. He has been open to teaching his skills and techniques to all those who may want to learn. He has done donkey's work and carried mule's loads for the departments he has built in the past.

Meet Sanjay, the lone pioneer.

Always the people's man... he has lost sleep over the doctor who seems to have a personal or a professional problem; as well as the patient who needs his skill but cannot afford it. He has just picked up a street urchin simply because he saw that the girl was blind, taken her and her father to a state-of-the art facility, examined the child and not only provided medical care but also picked up his own daughter's clothes and given them to a girl who will not be able to see what she is wearing. Because he could not bear the idea of a girl child who is unable to see wear torn clothes that expose her dignity to the harsh eyes of a community that refuses to see.

Meet Sanjay, the man.

He has been an admired teacher and a loved tutor by students at all levels. Concepts that flummox seasoned teachers flow very easily from this unassuming and passionate man! There are many who still look for and study from the notes that he once released to make difficult concepts understandable. He still goes out of his way to impart his hard earned skills to those who are willing to learn. Whether it is the revolutionary concept of eye drop, no injection anaesthesia or the minimally invasive techniques of blindness alleviating surgery, he is willing to let his skill live on long after he is gone.

Meet Sanjay, the teacher.

The man who can come home looking as if he needs to rest... eyes nearly closing... and his face lights up at the sight of his daughter- hugging her and joking with her to lighten the load on her tender shoulders. And the son who he holds in a bear hug and revels in... Saniya has started to work out things on her own. She watches keenly. She wants to try hooking the laptop to the Sony Bravia simply because she has seen her Chacha do it. And Sanjay will smile, knowing she can. Moksh asks questions endlessly... and 'eats our heads'. But Sanjay smiles indulgently (and rather proudly) and says, " I love him to ask! I will serve my head on the platter and invite to be eaten. I love to answer whatever questions he may ask. And explore together if I cannot answer!"

Meet Sanjay, the Father.

The man who comes back from the hospital and finds his friends and family waiting for him to light up their evening with a medley of Karaoke singing and soulful music. And he gladly obliges. He will sing on. (A very recent phenomenon, this! He was one reticent guy! In all of our fifteen years together, I have not been able to make him sing more than twice. But in the last six months, he has broken through that reticence and hesitation)

Meet Sanjay, the singer.

And then, at the end of a fruitfully lived day, this man suddenly realises that his laptop is not working optimally or that his CD player is beginning to act up or that the Dishwasher is being a little obstinate or that the Refrigerator is being too noisy for his comfort. He will set up any system to his satisfaction and open up the CD player (Its head needs SHAMPOOING!). Or a little bit of tinkering and " Let us see if it doing OK now?" with the dishwasher. And the Refrigerator? Oh! That simply needs to be moved a little here or there. Viola! No more noise. Ah! Do not miss the little wooden piece that dampens the vibrations of our ventilator in the drawing room... You see, this glass used to add a little unwanted noise to his musical experience!

Meet Sanjay The fixer! (My kids... his kids call him that!)

And not to forget the man who carries at least twenty-five kilos on his back comprising three to five cameras of various specifications on any vacation! We were held up at the Srinagar airport for over an hour because no one could believe that a single man could use all the equipment in that bag. Each piece was checked and cross-checked. We have holiday photographs and family shots that we all love to watch. His photographs have even made it to heritage calendars. Photography is a driving passion with this man. It would be difficult for an onlooker to imagine that the man loaded with the cameras is really an eye surgeon.

Meet Sanjay, the photographer.

And then there is a rather private part of my heart and life that this man inhabits. He loves me and he irritates me. He cares for me and recklessly tramples over my feelings, too. He is worried sick if I am away without information and yet thinks nothing of doing the disappearing act himself. He smiles and still makes my heart do flip flop and makes my knees go weak. He speaks without having to say a word. And refuses to speak when I really wish he would say something! Sometimes he really obliges and says something," Something!" And he says it with the same naughty smile that took my heart away more than twenty years ago. Thank god for that day he called me back from the gate of the college to rag me!

Meet Sanjay, my husband!”