A Medical Conference… and the Spark of a Story

It was the much-anticipated stroke conference in Jaffna. Our supervisor had encouraged us to attend—not just to stay updated on the latest in stroke care, but also to network with professionals in the field.

I was genuinely excited. It was a refreshing break from the regular rhythm of clinic life. Plus, I couldn’t deny my eagerness for the inevitable conference buffet—the kind of culinary delight that always adds a silver lining to academic events.

---

A Chance Encounter in the Lift

The venue was the Thiruvalluvar Cultural Centre, nestled close to the Jaffna Public Library. As we entered and stepped into the lift, just as the doors were about to close, they slid open once more.

A beautiful girl stepped inside.

She gave a shy smile and glanced briefly at the three of us before the lift ascended in silence to the second floor. As we exited, and she was safely out of earshot, my married colleague nudged me and whispered with a grin,

 “Why don’t you consider? She looks pretty.”

This had become a routine jest—the kind of light teasing I often received as the only single one in the group. I laughed it off, as always.

---

Lectures, Pharma Stalls, and Dessert

The conference rolled on. Some lectures were insightful, others not so much. We moved in and out of sessions, networked with old friends, and browsed through the pharma company stalls, collecting pens and pamphlets as one does.

Then came lunchtime. We were welcomed by a vibrant spread of curries, salads, and desserts. As we settled in to enjoy our meal, my other colleague—also unmarried—spotted the same girl from the lift now sitting alone at a table nearby.

“She looks nice,” he said thoughtfully. “Feels like talking to her.”

Without missing a beat, our ever-cheerful married friend grinned,

 “Machan, go for it.”

My friend’s eyes lit up. He smiled, nodded, and thanked him for the encouragement.

---

A Curious Excuse and a Bold Move

As we were about to leave the dining area and return to the hall, my friend suddenly announced,

“I need to wash my hands.”

I pointed toward the wash basin and continued chatting with my other colleague. A few minutes later, I turned around and—there he was. Not at the wash basin.

He was talking to her.

The two were engaged in conversation, smiling and laughing. And before long, we saw them exchange numbers.

It was only then that I remembered—he had been eating with a fork and spoon.

So why the urgent handwashing?

I laughed to myself. The “handwashing” was merely the exit strategy for something far more interesting.

---

The Beginning of a Story?

As I watched them talk, I thought, This could make a good story.

Or maybe, just maybe, it’s the beginning of one.

--

Sometimes, the most unexpected moments at a conference have nothing to do with medicine—but everything to do with life.