DISCOVERING COMPASSION

The aroma of espresso cut through the antiseptic hospital air, a siren call to Mohan's weary mind. The little café tucked between the sterile corridors was his oasis. He'd shed his scrubs for a comfortable t-shirt, his usually stern face softened by the flickering candle on his table.

For ten stolen minutes, he wasn't Dr. Mohan, the celebrated surgeon. He was simply a man seeking respite from the relentless rhythm of life and death. The scalpel was replaced by a chipped porcelain mug, its warmth seeping into his fingers.

With each sip, Mohan observed. A young couple, eyes locked as if sharing a silent world. An exhausted nurse, finding solace in a romance novel. An elderly man, staring into space, each wrinkle a story untold. In this microcosm of humanity, he found fragments of his own experiences.

The ache in every patient's eyes, the trepidation as they waited for a verdict... he saw it in the nervous drumming of the young man's fingers. The relief, the joy etched on the face of a recovering patient - it mirrored the nurse's quiet smile. Each whispered conversation, each tear discreetly wiped away, was a piece of the intricate puzzle of human emotion.

He closed his eyes, the gentle music washing over him. The hospital with its endless beeps and the urgency of life faded into the background. It was a necessary dissonance, the soundtrack to his calling, but these quiet moments fueled his soul.

When his phone jolted him back to reality, it was with renewed energy. The ten minutes weren't just a break, they were a reaffirmation. Every patient on his table was more than just a case – they were individuals with loves, losses, and dreams. And in their fragility, he saw the profoundness of his own purpose. Mohan returned to the operating theatre not just as a surgeon, but as a healer fortified by his moments of quiet observation, the warmth of the coffee lingering in his spirit.