I finally managed to find the above picture which was taken in 1963 over Christmas and New Year. The good looking Indian guy with Brylcream on his hair was my fabulous dad. My father is known to the General Medical Council as Mr Prafulla Chandra Pal Consultant Surgeon. I like writing about my dad because he was a truly fantastic person. He loved Christmas and always partied over the New Year. Over this period, I often think about my father because there has never been anyone like him.
I am always so grateful that he managed to teach me everything I know much like a legacy. He always told me that I had to make it to the finishing line and not fail. These finishing lines were always interesting because no one was as brave as my father. He was the toughest man on the planet, he brought people back from the dead. That was his reputation as a surgeon. Dad was always into achievement and doing the impossible - because he was everyone's hero. He came from the deepest darkest parts of Bangladesh where he studied by the streetlight, wore one set of clothes that he washed and won the Gold Medal for Surgery at Nilatan Sarcar Medical College then landed in England. My father is still remembered in all the places he worked because he was that kind of doctor. He was the best.
My dad and I didn't need anyone to celebrate the cheque handed to me by the General Medical Council in 2005 through Pal v GMC. I handed the cheque to him because it belonged to him and not me. The cheque was sent to me by post by the conceited General Medical Council legal representatives and I ran straight into his room and handed it to him. He smiled at me and told me " Rita, you have done what no one has managed to do in the history of the General Medical Council". I told him that this was their apology to him for all the distress they had caused him over the years.
After that, we got the orange juice and ice out of the Fridge and celebrated ourselves. Dad laughed after 10 years of illness. He laughed with that amazing laugh that brightened the entire room. We laughed at the General Medical Council. It was a excellent sight - two doctors laughing at our regulator mocking them and savouring that minute where they were forced to fall on their knees. We were both asian doctors afterall and victory to our kind was rare. I had developed my English accent because apparently you need that kind of thing to get on in the world. I preferred my father's Bangladesh accent - it reminded me of my homeland and where I truly belonged. One day, my late father and I will return to the simpler homeland we once left behind. A land that is beautiful, kind and generous. One that does not judge the other by the their style or demeanor but by their heart.
We were a long way from our home in Bangladesh in a strange land where life had become a little too complicated than we would have wanted. Dad spoke of simplicity and the importance of developing the idea of leading a life devoid of a complex world. The cheque he had in his hand had little monetary value to him - it was the journey to it that made the difference. It was the fact that I had made it to the finishing line in one piece and had refused to be abused by a regulatory body that made all the difference to him.
He was proud of me. After that, I didn't need anyone elses congratulations. I remember that very well because out of all the exams, degrees and many other things I have done, the journey on Pal v GMC 2004 was extremely hard, extremely tiring and traumatic but I made it to the end for my dad.
Of course, I would never have made it without my father - he was always the light in front of me, telling me to get out of bed and stop being lazy and start reading case law, telling me to walk for miles in the morning to clear my head, telling me to eat properly, telling me to stop eating chocolate because all my teeth would drop out before his, telling me that I needed to work harder than all the GMC's lawyers to make it to the end because I needed to be the best I could be in this battlefield. My father focussed on making me work at the same speed as four GMC lawyers together. This is very true, I taught myself to type faster than any secretary, to stay awake longer than anyone and never to break.
I must have stayed awake constantly for months, being woken up by my father each time I fell asleep while eating dinner. He would tell me that the sun would come out tomorrow and it would always be a better day - I just had to keep going. During the lead up to the 2004 case, I had not slept for 2 months. There was money to be earned, oncalls to be completed, there was lawyers to be paid and there was case law to be read. I kept going and going until the battle was over then after my father's death, I must have collapsed because I slept for two weeks constantly.
I must have survived through his words and encouragement, coffee and sheer stamina. I look back on the past now affectionately - because winning in 2004 was about teamwork - it was about my father and me. It was something we did together because it was important to both of us. It was historical for me because my father held my hand and led me to the finishing line. I could never have done it without my fabulous dad. My father was the leader of the pack, a true believer in justice and the man who believed anything could be done if you put your mind to it.
And even if I didn't win again, it didn't matter to me - what mattered to me was the fact that dad and I had made it. Behind every battle there is always a story. This is the most important story behind R Pal v GMC. The man who made it happen was my father Mr Prafulla Chandra Pal. I don't think anything will change when we finally meet on the other side again. He will still be telling me to run like the wind and sail through every sea without fear of what is in front of me. Those who dare can win - afterall that is what he always did.