Many Flavors of Ambition

“It is a known fact that in storytelling (and in life) the only thing that’s constant is… Change.”

Growing up in the ‘80s, grandpa would encourage me to study hard because:

“One day you have to become a doctor. That day my chest will swell with pride… thisssssss wide!” Grandpa would beam and hold out his arms.

I always laughed at his histrionics, and that day was no different.

So, I spent my school days studying diligently, allowing my ambition to take shape within the boundaries erected by grandpa’s loving coercion.

I loved Physics and Mathematics. Biology was okay—not particularly fascinating—but I paid special attention to it now, because the first flavor of ambition had taken root in my life.

Years later, close to the end of the 20^th century, I graduated as a young doctor from CMC Vellore, fulfilling my ambition and grandpa’s.

That day his chest indeed swelled “thisssssss wide”.

Shortly thereafter, I began work in a small town in North India. The bulk of my practice consisted of medicine, surgery, and obstetrics.

I was a generalist doctor, but I wanted to go higher and become a general surgeon—a specialist.

Although my ambition had assumed another flavor, it remained within the boundaries of my current profession.

Admission into the surgical training program was by a competitive entrance exam, so I started studying for the exam with great determination.

The first book that I read was about the anatomy of brain and the spinal cord, called “Clinical Neuroanatomy, by Richard S. Snell”.

In the past, I had been mortally scared of the brain. Maybe I picked up this book because I wanted to conquer my fears.

Over the days that followed, my fascination grew in leaps and bounds: the brain was both a science and an art, it was the commander-in-chief of the entire human body, armed with the mathematical precision of a sharpshooter.

Mathematics! Now here’s a medical subject I can get on board with!

After a month of devouring Snell’s neuroanatomy, I was convinced that I needed more “brain & spinal cord” in my life.

Excited, I discarded my plan of becoming a general surgeon and bought a load of neurology and neurosurgery textbooks.

This diversion would not have been possible had I not picked up Snell’s neuroanatomy a month ago … and get introduced to the next flavor of ambition: neurosurgery.

The neurosurgery entrance exam at my alma mater, CMC Vellore, was after a year. And I had about a year’s study material piled up ahead of me.

Great! Everything is going according to plan.

Even though working in the small hospital took up my days and evenings, the nights were reserved for studying (unless I was called for emergency surgeries).

My doggy, named Puppy, slept close to my chair, while I was immersed in the mysteries of the brain. In the wee hours of the mornings, as I trudged into the bedroom, Puppy would jump onto the bed and be fast asleep before my head hit the pillow.

A year later, I aced the neurosurgery entrance exam at CMC Vellore, and entered a grueling phase of life. The experiences and challenges that I faced during neurosurgical training are legion, and I will pen them in the future.

Six years later, when I became a neurosurgeon, my grandpa’s chest exploded with pride once again.

As a neurosurgeon, I was exhilarated by the rapid pace of work, the adventure of high decision-making, and the intricate knowledge & skills that I exercised daily.

All the while, I didn’t notice that the earth had circled the sun several times, I had turned a gray hair (or more) and entered my 40s.

That’s when a new flavor of ambition pounced upon me!

This unique flavor had been rearing its head in fits and starts since childhood but was pushed aside by the preceding “career-oriented” flavors. However, in my middle age, this new flavor changed its timbre and grew insistent.

Let’s rewind to my school days to understand the origin of this new flavor of ambition.

English classes were of two types: studying poetry & classics (like Shakespeare, Bernard Shaw, Robert Frost among others) and writing compositions.

During the composition classes, we had to write a 500 to 700-word report. This exercise had several options, like critiquing a current event, or writing our observations about a picture (related to a social or moral issue). And the last option was to write a short story.

I always wrote short stories in composition classes, because creating characters from thin air and making them do stuff was simply fascinating.

Even though Physics and Mathematics gave me intellectual satisfaction, I had always been a storyteller, at heart.

In retrospect, I now realize that I had been carrying this flavor of ambition since I was a schoolboy. But it had taken me 30-odd years to pay attention to it.

Quickly, I hunted within my computer for a story I’d started writing during my days as a neurosurgical trainee.

The story was about a plebeian fleeing Rome at the brink of war. However, owing to the rigors of neurosurgical training, that story had languished in the depths of my computer, for over a decade.

Fueled by my new ambition, I resucitated the dying story. And it grew into a book series called “Magical Rome Universe”. The first book was published in 2020 (you can watch the book trailer here).

While writing my Magical Rome stories, I’d accumulated a wealth of knowledge about the history and culture of ancient Rome. As I read different books and sources, an important theme emerged from the pages: Ambition.

Interestingly, the ancients’ ambitions took many unexpected twists and turns as they went about their lives—akin to the many flavors of ambition I’d encountered in my own life.

And this principle held true in different strata of Roman society—from slaves, to the common folk, to the rich but marginalized Roman women.

Since I connect with the “many flavors of ambition” tenet at a deep, personal level, I’ve written a non-fiction book on this subject.

I hope you enjoy reading this book. Here it is…

Thanks for reading & have a great day,

A. David Singh