Adham·أدهم
2T8 MAM
Q: If your attire could tell a story, what would it be?
My attire would narrate my personal story. When I first immigrated to Canada, layering sweaters and shirts became a necessity to handle the cold—a habit that has stayed with me to this day. I still gravitate toward baggy sweaters and puffy jackets, reflecting both practicality and my enduring sensitivity to the cold. Also, as a Muslim, modesty shapes both my character and my fashion choices, which is why layering remains central to my style. Streetwear captures my youthful energy, while a striped "grandpa" sweater symbolizes my efforts to transition into a professional career.
“As a Muslim, modesty shapes both my character and my fashion choices.”
Q: Three words that encapsulate your style:
Meek, timeless, genuine.
Q: Fashion can be both a canvas for self-expression and a tool to make an
impression. How do you balance both when choosing what to wear?
I believe that self-expression and impression should go hand in hand. If you want to give off the impression of your true authentic self through fashion, then self-expression is precisely the means of doing so. I am currently in a stage where I value presenting my true authentic self, whether through physical appearance or character. That said, as I transition into a career of serving the public, I ponder on the signifcance of self-expression in a feld that is not intended to be oriented around oneself. In such a case, I sense the balance will tip closer to impressions over self-expression.
Interview with Orbital Groove
Yasmin Meghdadi, 2T8
Q: What is Orbital Groove and who are you?
Jon: Orbital groove, as the name suggests, is a groovy orbit. Orbital Groove has been around since the early 2000s. They performed at clerkship socials as a way to have music in the community. But unfortunately, during the COVID-19 pandemic, the band kind of died with the lack of in-person interactions and the two or three years of online life. Essentially, the handover tradition was interrupted.
I found out from upper-year MD and MD-PhD students who had joined Temerty in 2016 or before, that there was this band called Orbital Groove. We reached out to the original founders who helped us revitalize and share their vision of what Orbital Groove used to be and the events it participated in.
Sador, Paul, and I thought there was a lack of music engagement within medicine, especially back in first year. We wanted to kickstart Orbital Groove to promote music, creativity, and wellness in our spaces while giving students a chance to perform, get more stage confidence, and experience working within a band.
Paul: Orbital Groove is a band made up of medical students for the community. It’s an opportunity to cultivate the musical talents seen within our peers and showcase them to the world. This band has evolved from a long-existing tradition among previous medical students who appreciated the musical arts. We are very privileged and grateful to be able to revive it moving forward.
Q: How do you put your individual twist to a continued band? What is orbital orbital groove? And who are you?
Jon: The Groove’s music has reflected the interests at the time. There are YouTube videos of Orbital Groove rehearsing in MSB 3:153 and different bars around Toronto performing a lot of rock and roll and metal with two or three guitars on stage. Our vibe has manifested as playing a lot of groovy music, as we have been very inspired by jazz and some funk. We also take pride in our band’s versatility. For example, some of our sets have been Sam Smith-heavy and others are more “chill” and “vibey” songs. We have also performed fun throwbacks like “I Will Survive” and “Lordship” at events like the 2T7 formal.
Sador: Our band changes from year to year depending on who the pre-clerkship students are. It was fun hosting auditions at the start of this year and seeing who the new students are and what their musical passions would bring to Orbital Groove. We have loads of people who are into jazz and others into soul. It’s been great to cater our performances to our members and audience. It doesn’t surprise us that the band will continue to change in the years to come as well.
Q: How has art impacted your journey to medicine?
Nethmi: Personally, music was a part of my life before I decided to pursue medicine. Music was always integrated into my family—that’s how I started to sing in the first place. My parents then put me in piano lessons, and this journey had a lot to do with the people closest to me. I started performing with my sister and friends from school and the rest is history.
Music is really important to me because it brings us together. Getting to medicine has been challenging, and the necessary sacrifices didn’t always leave us with a lot of time. But music genuinely allows me to take the time and come together with like-minded people. It lets me connect to my inner child and the people who understand me.
Jon: I look forward to the things that we have planned as a band. We can disconnect from everything else—all the stress from work and school. We have impromptu jam sessions after rehearsals and it’s such a nice space to disconnect and recharge.
Paul: I think on my journey to medicine, music as an art form has always been a solace, a place of rest, a place to really reflect and take some time away from all the hustle and bustle of life. I'm glad it's extended over into medicine now with a community of people that I like dearly and love creating music with.
Q: How does studying medicine and being a medical trainee impact your art and life as an artist?
Nethmi: The idea of emulating what an artist has created or trying to put my own spin on a piece by understanding the lyrics and poetry requires my emotions to be at the forefront. I like to think this has made me a more emotionally attuned person. As students, we learn a lot about the nonverbal cues that come up in medicine during Clinical Skills and I think that my background in music and art has crafted my lens of understanding them. Understanding music and the songwriter’s intentions kind of parallels my interactions with other people because it’s such a uniquely human experience.
Sador: Learning about medicine and the other side of things has taught me how medicine can also preserve one’s wellness and health as a musician, a topic that is really important to me. Take carpal tunnel for example, being a medical student will help me understand how to preserve my body which is necessary for my music. Yes, music helps me remain grounded in medicine but medicine can also help us maintain our art and its longevity.
Q: Intersectionality is everywhere; how do you embrace the intersectionalities of the medical and artistic communities?
Sador: I think I went the majority of my life thinking that my musical or artistic pursuits were going to be entirely separate from anything that is academic as if they are completely independent from one another. But when I started my undergrad, I accidentally explored this intersectionality. I think there are some more obvious forms of how these worlds come together, such as music therapy. A lot of people find relief when listening to music and want music to be a part of their career. As someone interested in this field, I looked into organizing sing-alongs for community members with intellectual disabilities, fostering spaces for music exploration and allowing it to be a powerful tool for healing. Beyond that, there's a really big world in academic research that's combining music and medicine in various areas, like palliative care. . .When I think about the kind of physician I’ll be, I want to incorporate music therapy and music as an additional factor to whatever medical interventions are being offered in patients’ care.
Jon: Music can be a great therapeutic strategy. The band is planning to perform Christmas concerts at Mount Sinai, going into patient rooms and singing holiday carols to liven up an environment that can feel very sterile and detached. . .I’ve sat down at the pianos at SickKids and TGH to play and a lot of patients come out and watch; they look so happy to hear the music. In the medical setting, arts and music and creativity may not be the main focus but being able to provide some level of artistry can foster spaces with a log of meaning, fulfilment, and wellness.
Q: What advice can you give to your fellow artists in the medical community?
Sador: If art is something that you enjoy, make time for it. I think, in medicine or any healthcare profession, there's a lot of pressure to commit fully to professional endeavours. And that makes complete sense; it's a privilege to be in medicine and a huge responsibility. But for me, training to be the best possible physician also means making sure that I'm staying sane and true to myself by engaging in activities that bring me joy. Medicine is a difficult field and that's not going to change, it's only going to get more difficult from here. Music is a great outlet, and I would assume that's the case for all art forms, depending on what you're interested in. . .We all have waves in our lives where certain things are going to take precedence, and that's just normal. But I think you have to find ways to make time for it if it's something you enjoy.
Nethmi: I forget how refreshing music is to me until I come to rehearsal or take the time to let loose and sing. Unless you consciously make some time for it, you forget how therapeutic it is and how much it does for you. Losing the music and its benefits are really easy.
Q: Have you ever lost your art, and if so, how did you get back to it?
Nethmi: I'm so glad I auditioned. I don't know what I would do if I didn’t have this regular time slot allocated to music that ensures I don’t lose it.
Sador: I find music or artistic motivation generally come at the weirdest times, like in the middle of the night or when I'm having the worst possible day. I’ve never tried to control this because music inspiration comes when it comes, and that’s how it is. But when I'm feeling less motivated, it's always been when I've been taking music too seriously. That's when that shift happens for me. It's just a matter of being mindful of what brings out the best aspects of music for you and your values and really leaning into it.
Q: How do you maintain your artistic activities alongside your medical education and training?
Jon: I put it in my calendar. Also, having a community with regular rehearsals creates a sense of purpose. This can be performing with friends, jamming with the band, or performing at shows that are coming up. That helps me stay involved in music. It’s so interesting that every time I jam out or perform I remember how amazing this is.
Sador: I wholeheartedly agree. I can't say that I do this all the time, but I also find staying on top of school and work helps make time for it.
Q: In your opinion, should the arts and humanities be more incorporated into the medical curriculum and overall community? If so, why and how?
Jon: I think the arts and humanities connect us all and are so important for wellness. I know that not everyone feels the same way about the arts and humanities, especially if it was crammed into our curriculum in a very specific way, like a one-time lecture or asynchronous module. I think it would be much more meaningful to incorporate the arts into medicine with a one-day placement at Holland Bloorview’s music therapy program for rehabilitation or other similar opportunities.
Paul: I feel that underpinning all of this, the arts, humanities, and medicine are intrinsically interwoven whether we like it or not. In medicine, we as practitioners of medicine, sustain and continue life. But it is essential to remember that the arts and humanities give us a reason to live. It’s really important to highlight this connection whether it be through teaching, case-based learning, or even physical placements. I believe that the arts and humanities should have a place in medicine, otherwise we might lose sense of why we’re doing it all in the first place.
“In medicine, we as practitioners of medicine, sustain and continue life. But it is essential to remember that the arts and humanities give us a reason to live.”
Interview with Shakil Popatia
April Christiansen, 2T7 MAM
Shak has long been passionate about the arts, with a particular focus on music and musical theatre. His journey in the arts began in high school, where his musical theatre and choir teacher had a profound influence on how he viewed the creative community. This transformative experience led to his first major role as Jack in Into the Woods, an opportunity that sparked a lifelong commitment to both performance and fostering opportunities for others to pursue their passions.
Throughout his academic career, Shak remained dedicated to integrating the arts into all aspects of his life. At McMaster University, he joined the Health Sciences Musical Charity, where he not only formed lasting friendships but also mentored successive cohorts of students. In his final year, Shak wrote and directed Children of Health Sci, a musical project that holds deep personal significance for him and has had a lasting impact on the trajectory of his life.
Shak’s passion for storytelling through art has always been a central part of his journey. However, his experience as a director has deepened his understanding of the power of art to give others a platform to share their own stories. This realisation has inspired his current role as the director of the Admissions Video for the University of Toronto, where he aims to create a space for students to express their gratitude and love for the program, while showcasing the diverse voices within the community.
Q: What kind of art do you create, and what inspired you to start?
From a young age, I was naturally drawn to the world of art, beginning with visual arts before moving on to architecture, where I would use bamboo sticks to recreate the Taj Mahal. My artistic journey then expanded into music, with me experimenting both with singing and the trumpet, inspired by icons like Whitney Houston and other legendary artists of that era. Throughout high school, music and artistic expression became essential outlets for me, offering a sense of solace during a challenging time that many can relate to. I had the opportunity to perform in Tuck Everlasting in grade 11 and Mary Poppins in grade 12, which further fueled my passion for the arts. Later, as I joined McMaster’s Health Sciences program, I took on a new role as Director, which shifted my perspective and deepened my respect for theatre. It was here that I discovered the joy of crafting unique roles tailored to individuals' strengths, enhancing the collaborative aspect of this creative process.
Shak (right) pictured post-performance
Q: How do you balance your medical studies with your artistic practice?
This is still a work in progress, but since music and theatre have become integral to my identity and bring me a deep sense of fulfilment, it's important for me to make time to honour this part of myself. I’ve found that scheduling regular "Jam nights" with friends/classmates in medical school has helped me stay accountable and ensure I keep this creative side alive.
It has also been such a blessing to have maintained friendships from all parts of my life with individuals who have inspired my love for music. One of my closest friends, Sarah, has been an integral reminder of why art is meant to be shared with people. Whenever we are stressed or need a break, we find ourselves singing together. Something so simple has given me so much solace. This is especially true as I am in a very big transitionary period of my life.
Q: Do you see any overlap between medicine and art?
For sure I do. I actually wrote one of my application essays on this topic!
Art and medicine are both ever-evolving fields, constantly shaped by new ideas, discoveries, and perspectives that we are continually adapting to.
I would also say that while it is early in my career, being an artist and performer will help deepen my ability to empathize with patients because as an actor I have been trained to step into different perspectives and inhabit someone else’s experience.
Shak (right) performing for TEDxMcMasterU
Q: Is there a particular piece of art that you’ve created that has a significant personal meaning or connection to your medical journey?
Yes, actually! “Children of Health Sci” is the musical I directed in the last year of my undergrad, and its storyline somewhat parallelled my journey to medical school.
The story centred on a protagonist in their fourth year of university, who felt lost and behind in life compared to their peers who had clear post-graduate plans. One day, the protagonist received an acceptance letter to join an exclusive and prestigious circus that promised eternal life – the talk of the town and a dream to many. While all their friends eagerly embarked on their own journeys, the protagonist was left behind, forced to self-reflect and consider whether they would accept this once-in a lifetime opportunity to perform in the circus.
In this alternate reality, eternal life was granted to those who joined the circus, but at a significant cost: they had to relinquish much of their personal freedom. This concept of sacrifice and limitation reminded me of what I imagined medical school might be like—a trade-off between personal desires and the pursuit of something greater.
In the end, the character ultimately has the option to either pursue “eternal life” or choose another path that is personally fulfilling but does not uphold this promise.
This story hinted at my own pre-med experience and made me think about what it would have been like if I had chosen a different path, but I am really happy with where I am now.
“I’ve found that scheduling regular “Jam nights” with friends and classmates in medical school has helped me stay accountable and ensure I keep this creative side alive.”
Q: What projects are you currently involved in?
I am in Daffy! I am also directing the admissions video for UofT medical school - making it more musical and playful. I am also going to be singing at the UofT holiday party and may collaborate with Orbital Groove in the future!
Interview with Dr. Tunde-Byass
Vrati M. Meha, 2T5 WB
Dr. Tunde-Byass is a Fellow of both the Canadian and British Royal College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists. She earned her medical degree from the University of Ibadan in 1987 and completed her OB/GYN training in the UK followed by University of Toronto, Canada. Dr. Tunde-Byass has been an active staff member at North York General Hospital (NYGH) for 20 years. She is a leading expert in Early Pregnancy Loss and has received numerous teaching and innovation awards in the field of Obstetrics and Gynecology. Dr. Tunde-Byass is the inaugural president of Black Physicians of Canada and a co-founder of Women’s Health Education Made Simple.
Q: What inspired you to pursue medicine?
For as long as I can remember, I wanted to be a doctor. Although I was the second youngest of all my siblings, I was often told that I was mature for my age; I was caring, thoughtful, and I did well in school. I was also fortunate to have grown up in a loving home with support from my parents and siblings. All of these factors inspired and enabled me to go to medical school.
Q: How did you come to the decision that you wanted to pursue OB/GYN?
In medical school, OB/GYN was very well taught over two rotations in six months. I had devoted teachers who trained in the UK and Nigeria. We could excel in OB/GYN as we were exposed to clinical scenarios and performed as many deliveries as we wanted. Students in the program were required to work at both the teaching and community hospitals; between the two sites, we assisted with at least 60 deliveries. That was both satisfying, and competency building. I fell in love with OB/GYN during my foundational years, and the feeling has remained the same.
After medical school, I completed horsemanship in Nigeria with 3-month rotations in OB/GYN, pediatrics, general surgery, and internal medicine. I became a resident in the UK, where I developed the skills to manage very busy labour floors with 3000-7000 deliveries per year. We worked very closely with nurses, who were also midwives, and it was crucial to have that team approach. I was trained to care for and deliver high-risk patients, and it was all very interesting. Low risk prenatal care and deliveries were attended to by the midwives.
Q: Why did you have to go to the UK to train and then what brought you to Canada?
Post housemanship, I completed an additional year of compulsory training in Nigeria called the National Youth Service Corps. It was not uncommon for people to go abroad and acquire more training outside of Nigeria; this was the case for me in the UK. I got married there and had my kids. My husband and I continued to work in the UK. However, my husband found an opportunity in Canada and moved here to explore it.
I was a high-risk maternal fetal medicine fellow at King’s College, London. I moved thereafter to Canada. Interestingly, it was the year that Canada stopped recognizing medical training from the UK so my entire training was no longer recognized here. I had just missed that opportunity. My passion for the field was too great for me to stop, so, I was ready for the challenge, which meant I had to redo my residency. This part of my journey was very difficult as a mother of two young children. It was difficult to navigate the system. Yet, I couldn’t imagine not doing what I loved so much. It was a huge sacrifice, but I have no regrets. I received a lot of support from staff and colleagues who were respectful of my skills and experience. People were nice to me. Looking back, I am glad I did it, and this year marks my 20th anniversary of starting as a staff physician at North York General Hospital – a wonderful place to work.
“I love what I do still”
Q: Given that you have experienced working in so many different types of healthcare systems across the globe, what do you think we can learn from these other countries and their health systems? How can we do better?
I consider it a great opportunity to have, what I call, a global experience. I consider myself fortunate, and this has made me the physician that I am today. Training in a developing country, where technology was not always available, forced me to bedependent on my clinical skills. The training in the UK (i.e., the home of clinical obstetrics) prepared me for everything, and the icing on the cake was training in Canada, which afforded me the opportunity to be at my best.
Although, there were challenges along the way, it all added up to a positive life experience. The Nigerian and the UK systems are quite similar. The UK is a much smaller country than Canada, but it cares for a lot of people, and I found that, for the most part, the system worked well for patients. Patients couldn’t just ask for tests, and there is a long waiting list for appointments. The program in the UK really emphasizes early skill acquisition because you manage the entire floor with the consultant not being in-house. I learned a lot very quickly. However, the system is very hierarchical. At that time, it was extremely difficult to move up the ladder to become a consultant – a coveted position.
The Canadian system is different, and by the end of the five-year training program, we ensure all our residents can work as staff. Another difference: the UK has also always collected obstetrical outcome data. The Confidential Enquiry into Maternal Deaths collects and publishes information on maternal mortality and morbidity, and all trainees have used it as the ‘bible’ to learn from to avoid repeating the same mistakes. In Canada, we don’t do this. We also don’t collect race-based data here. I was quite shocked when I first learned that we don’t know which women die in obstetrics! Thankfully, we are now beginning to do this and having more conversations around the importance of race-based data. This will lead to heightened awareness of what needs to be done to move the needle forward and address inequities.
In the UK, you only had one family doctor (i.e., General practitioner orGP), based on your postal code. If you moved, your health records movedwith you to your GP’s “surgery” or office. This reduces doctor shopping and makes the system more accountable. The payor system is also a huge difference. This experience has made me realize that I can adapt easily and has allowed me to be the physician I am today.
Q: What inspired your interest in early pregnancy loss (EPL)? Could you please share your journey on developing and working towards this area of expertise?
My interest in EPL started in the UK. EPL care was establishmed in the late 1980s and early 1990s. As a junior resident in the UK, we were trained to care for and to perform suction dilation and curettages (D&C) for patients with EPL. At the time, if you could imagine, we were tasked with doing many D&Cs after hours, often at night, whilst managing the labour and delivery floor on our own. It was a lot for a junior resident.
The concept of EPL assessment came about to reduce the workload for junior doctors while allowing women to get care in a timely fashion by bypassing the Accident and Emergency (A & E) department. Prior to this, all the patients experiencing EPL and complications went to the A & E department. There were also no medical options offered to patients, like we do today. A significant number of women were treated surgically. Mifepristone was available but was reserved for management of medical abortion. We were trained to perform our own ultrasounds.
As a result, early pregnancy assessment clinics (EPACs) were introduced, and I really liked the idea of having a dedicated practice to help patients experiencing EPL. The EPACs took away that portion of your night from the emergency department. Patients could also self-refer to the clinic and get help for their symptoms without waiting in the A & E department.
Interestingly, my own experience as a patient also solidified my interest in EPL. During my first pregnancy (before EPACs were standard of practice), I showed up in the A & E with a threatened miscarriage and, of course, it was not in the daytime. The night was cold, and the wait was long. A cold speculum sent shivers down my spine. I still remember the experience to this day. I made a promise to myself not to examine anyone with a cold speculum.
Coming to Canada, I found that a significant number of patients experiencing EPL still went through the emergency department for care, and there were no dedicated clinics to care for these pregnant individuals. It was déjà vu! When I came to North York General Hospital, the chief of the department, the late Dr. Titus Owolabi, was very supportive and this led to the birth of EPAC at North York. We were the second site in the city.
North York General Hospital, where Dr Tunde-Byass has practiced as a staff physician for 20 years.
Q: What goes into starting a brand-new clinic at a hospital site?
Firstly,, we came up with a business plan to see twelve patients every half-day, three times a week. We reached out to our colleagues in the ED to gauge their interest, and they were open to the idea of a system that would support the ED and provide follow up care for patients undergoing EPL. EPAC started off in a small room with an ultrasound machine, a nurse, and five OB/GYNs Once you build a good system, people would come. The word spread like a wildfire in Harmattan. We became busy very quickly.
Yet, location is important! The clinic was initially situated next to the labour and delivery department. This was a huge mistake – lesson learnt! You don’t open EPAC next to the labour and delivery area. After receiving feedback from our patients and with lots of advocacy, we were moved to a different floor. Sometimes people ask, “Why don’t you send EPL patients to abortion clinics?” I tell them, “No… You can’t! You have to understand that a loss is difficult. You have to acknowledge the pain and anguish that people with EPL go through.”
Our initial data revealed a reduction in the number of reassessments in the emergency for ectopic pregnancies. EPAC provides a streamlined and compassionate approach to individuals experiencing EPL, and our patients are appreciative of this service. However, there is limited access to care. The clinic operates three half-days a week, which is insufficient. Unfortunately, access to care continues to be through the ED.
A clinic with daily access and after-hours service would bypass the ED and reduce the burden on the overstretched service. Unfortunately, it appears that women’s health is not a priority, so it takes a lot of advocacy to move the needle.
Dr. Tunde-Byass was recently featured in a CBC documentary on Black maternal health.
Q: Can you describe the process of moving from your original location to the new location of the clinic? What type of data did you have to gather to show proof that this change was needed?
We had to do a lot of negotiation to move, but patient feedback was very helpful. We also used the literature published on EPL care, and many studies clearly state that EPACs cannot be placed in or around the labour and delivery or abortion service clinics. I am very happy with the new space. EPAC is a teaching site for clerks, residents, and fellows in compassionate care for EPL.
Q: You are also the president of Black Physicians of Canada (BPC). What has this role taught you?
Being the president of BPC has taught me a lot! As you know, BPC is a national organization that was founded after the death of Mr. George Floyd by two residents – Dr. Hadal El-Hadi and Dr. Teresa Semalulu. I volunteered to lead the organization. I was very impressed by their vision and passion. My role is to help execute the vision of the organization. As a voluntary position, it requires a lot of time and resources. The work is interesting and intense. I learnt to work around my schedule while ensuring that my clinical work did not fall on my colleagues. I did not anticipate the intensity of the work. I had media training – thanks to Ms. Gaby Giroday. I took the new evolving academic leadership (NEAL) course over 9 months at the University of Toronto, which I would greatly recommend.
Q: In your leadership and mentorship roles, what are some of the biggest barriers do you think for indigenous and black medical students and what do you think are some solutions to removing these barriers?
Statistically and historically, these two groups are hugely underrepresented. So, we have to first acknowledge that we have a problem. Then, we would be ready to disrupt and dismantle racism. Think about the impact that racism has in these populations! Addressing racism and the inequities in our system benefit everyone. Increasing representation to serve the diverse Canadian population is important. Early mentorship is crucial so that these learners stay within the profession. Isolation, burnout, imposter syndrome, and excessive attrition are common in Black and Indigenous learners. Data from the United States shows that 20% of Black learners leave the program, despite representing only 5% of learners. A culture of wellness, compassion, equity, fairness, and social justice is key to raising healthy physicians. Finally, we need to support the next generation of physicians so they can lead. Current medical students, like yourself and others, have a lot of potential that needs harnessing for a better healthcare system. The time is now.
Q: What would be one advice you would give to the medical students reading this interview?
I would tell them that being a medical student is a privilege. You have worked very hard and made sacrifices; therefore, you must enjoy everything about this profession. Work-life balance is crucial. Avoid putting off things that matter to you. There will never be a right time to travel, start a family, or spend time with loved ones. Challenge the status quo and be part of a transformational change for good. Be an advocate for your patients, and be ready to learn from your patients.
Perfect Summer Day
Kerman Sekhon, 2T5 MAM
Bright red hue,
A solar stew.
Fresh water lake,
Deep and blue.
Paddle’s splash,
Sails flying past.
Casted hook,
Perfect shoreside book.
No pain,no fear,
No burning rash,
Just feeling free,
Safe at last
Felt the sun, felt this breeze,
For the first time in, a quarter century.
Artist Statement:Inspired by a patient’s story, experiencing sunlight for the first time in 25 years after gaining control over a debilitating chronic photosensitive skin condition. This moment captures the delicate freedom of feeling safe in one’s own skin, free from pain, and reconnecting with the simple pleasures of life.
@kermansekhon
“Of Soul and Sorrow”
Rachel Kim, 2T8 WB
Transcendently, I have loved,
Though ephemeral we may be.
A part of thy soul,
Trapped within the soil of thy sorrow—
A mirage in the moonlight,
A trick of the wicked stars.
—Love, transcendent.
—Love, ephemeral.
The world unto itself,
But I, unto mine.
“Of Soul and Sorrow”
Artist’s Statement: A collection of lines from an old short story, reimagined as a poem, to capture the eternal yet fleeting colours of a life, a love, a tale – each treasured beneath the burning light of a single star, and the dying embers of a million more.
Echoes of Yesterday
Nishwara Tarannum, 2T5 WB
The strings of memories from our youth lay hidden,
Like cobwebs in a corner long forgotten.
Once, these strands were strong,
Holding each other, woven into the foundation of who you are.
Yet, when you look now, they seem to tear at the seams—
Strands falling out.
Once interwoven meticulously, now a tangled mess,
One you cannot recognize.
So, you grasp at them,
Trying to knit them into a pattern you once knew.
Yet you are unable to,
As the fibres of the past unravel between your fingertips.
The strands of love, youth, and hopeful dreams are torn apart,
And the memories you once knew
Echo through time,
Never to be found again.
The Aneurysm
Suhaila Abdelhalim, 2T5 WB
I recently learned that blood can churn.
Clockwise, counterclockwise; ticking and sticking.
My own vessel - a growing space I cannot fit.
I recently heard that lungs can grasp.
Parched and punished, curdling a mass.
Feeding a space I cannot know,
until I’m outgrown.
I trust that they know.
I trust I will wake up.
windows
Parsa Razeghi, 2T8 MAM
It is 2:03 a.m.
The pale fluorescent haze
radiates, crawls, inches closer,
diffusing in my room.
My eyes hang, weighing heavily,
distracted by memories of today’s mistakes.
I shut my computer,
breaking the piercing white being emitted:
A familiar nocturnal loneliness.
Solitude reminds me of my favourite scene.
Today, there are only 8 windows:
they tower over the block,
blinking back,
glowing with faint life –
sonder.
The Kingdom Suites stands 13 floors,
a beige facade with irregularly lit panes.
I wonder if anyone is counting mine –
a stranger?
In an enclosing vignette,
I analyze foreign lives:
idiosyncrasies,
stars and lamplight,
faint shadows dancing behind curtain screens.
A flame is extinguished,
yet just another window in the night –
dreams drift me away alas,
in oblivion,
in peace.
…
A Distant Shore
Brittany Chang-Kit, 2T5 PB
And here we are,
Sullen little darling;
A fantastical dream of yours,
A mirage even as you splashed
Rain to a parched season.
Did you creep to the edge,
Only to sprint to the bottom?
I know you wanted to taste the sea—
A cup full of brine and sand and specks.
Did you want to bathe in it, too?
Now your skin darkens,
Split ends bleaching,
As the scorching sun bears down.
You invite her to envelop you,
As you embrace your transformation.
Beautiful as you are, my love,
Born with a wintery hue,
Now my summer queen.
The ocean in your veins, but starved in your gut;
Freckles over your shoulders and burns on your back.
For the winds have drafted to the northeast,
The tides crashing to a changing rhythm,
Pelicans speckled as they follow their prey.
You are left on the shore, debris in your eyes.
You are a fossil of this once-oasis land.
Your throat sore from the salt;
Sickly, slender frame and blanched exterior.
No longer fit to make snow angels,
As you sit in this wasteland, praying for the seasons,
My ambitious, courageous dear.
Artist’s statement: The virtue of persistence, the thrill of pursuit, the pain of it all.
Mania, Medication, and Memory
Andy Dongkwun Lee, 2T7 WB
I was entering my first day of junior high school. It was a new school in a new province and I was unsure about making close friends.
I entered my social studies class and sat at the back. Looking to make a friend, I spoke with my neighbor. He said his name was Janus.
At first, Janus seemed nice enough. He was talkative and funny, cracking jokes that made me laugh. But as the weeks went on, I noticed he had some...quirks. His moods would swing wildly from being the life of the party to lying on the floor for hours staring up at the ceiling fan.
One day, he came to class with his head shaved completely bald. The next week he had dyed his hair bright green. He started dressing in camouflage pants and trench coats, claiming he was going to join the military after he finished school. A few days later he had taken up guitar and was going to drop out to become a rock star.
I didn't know what to make of Janus' bizarre behavior. He seemed to have a new, overambitious plan every week, pursuing it with intense passion before abandoning it just as quickly.
The other students started calling him "Janitor" behind his back, assuming he was just looking for attention. But I could see there was real anguish and torment behind his eyes. It was like he was being driven by forces beyond his control.
Still, Janus and I remained friends, as I was one of the few who didn't treat him like he was a joke or a freak. On his up days, he was fun to be around—the life of any party with his wild ideas and outgoing personality. Other days, he was paralyzed by lethargy and depression, curled up in bed for days. I tried to be supportive, but I didn't know how to help him. I was just a kid myself, baffled by his rapid mood swings.
As time went on, his mood swings grew more extreme and erratic. One minute he was angrily lashing out at me and the next, he would be flooding me with apologies . He got into fights at school, arguments with teachers, and repeatedly ran away from home . His grades tanked as he went from being a star student to flunking out. I stuck by him, but it was hard with his behavior pushing me away despite my attempts to understand.
One morning, Janus didn't show up to school. Or the next day. A week went by and there was no sign of him. Rumors started circulating that he had been institutionalized in a psychiatric facility after some sort of manic episode. I was scared but also relieved that he was finally geting the help and treatment he so clearly needed.
A few weeks later, I received a text from Janus that he was in the hospital. When I visited him, he seemed heavily medicated—groggy and shuffling with a dazed look in his eyes. The vibrant, turbulent person I knew seemed to have been sedated right out of him.
"I don't feel anything anymore," he told me flatly, staring down at his trembling hands. "The sadness is gone, but so is everything else. I'm just...empty."
I felt a lump in my throat, not knowing what to say. My friend was slipping away from me, just in a different way than before. The medications had helped stabilize his mood swings, but at the cost of flattening his entire personality and sense of self in the process. It was like trading one life for another.
Janus was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, a condition characterized by dramatic highs and lows in mood. The "highs" of mania brought euphoria and delusional self-confidence to pursue those grandiose whims like being a rock star,but were inevitably followed by devastating "lows" of depression—a soul-draining void where he could barely summon the energy to get out of bed.
I tried to be there for him as this condition took over his life. His parents put him on a cocktail of medications that blunted the manic highs and depressive lows, but also muted his personality and thoughts. The once brilliant student struggled to focus and retain information. He seemed forever in a drugged, detached state suspended between the uncontrolled emotional peaks and valleys.
Janus ended up transferring to a specialized school. We texted occasionally over the years, but our lives went down separate paths. His career, attempts at relationships, and milestone moments of life were constantly derailed by his constantly changing moods and treatments.
He struggled to find the right combination of medications and personal adjustments that could manage his bipolar episodes without numbing his mind and spirit.
Janus confided in me that he felt tormented—like his true self was being held hostage by this never ending tug-of-war between bipolar mania and drug-induced numbness.
"I don't know which version of me is authentic anymore.”
Decades later, I got a call that Janus had been found dead in his apartment at age 39. The police suspected suicide, or an accidental overdose on opioids while trying to self-medicate his internal pain.
It was a tragic story with no clear solution. There was no way to preserve his passionate spirit without opening the floodgates to crippling mood swings. He had waged this battle for so long during his brilliant boyhood years, leaving him just a faded shadow by the time we reached adulthood.
As I stood at Janus' gravesite, my heart ached for the loss of my friend.
No one should have to cry out "don't leave me" in that scared, small voice as their authentic self slips away amid the shifting tides of mania and depression.
Pot 'o Flowers - 30"x40" (Oil On Canvas)
Eric Zhang, 2T7 MAM
Its a pot of flowers.
@zhang_airwick
The Heart and Fear
Shazray Nassar Syed, 2T7 MAM
I was scared of starting the anatomy curriculum in my first year of medical school, taking months for that fear to fade. Making art helped me recontextualize things, slowly transforming the concepts from terrifying to beautiful. Throughout this journey, I learned that art can be a powerful tool in reconstructing realities and perceptions.
@shazraysyed on Instagram