Happy new year to all of you!!!
Hope the New Year is filled with joy, prosperity and all the wonderful sounding words that the millions of greeting cards wish the New Year is filled with.
I do not believe in New Year resolutions.
Nor do I believe in a new year being a new beginning.
I do not believe anything much changes on January 1st 2009.
I think this day only marks the Earth successfully completing one revolution of the Sun and if the year was counted from April, The Fool’s day may very well be the beginning of a new year.
I apologize for being what Mr Scrooge was for Christmas.
This is what I think of new years.
The point is everyday can be a new beginning and a year can begin from any day you want it to begin from – changing the year from 2008 to 2009 is not that big a deal.
I sincerely hope all you readers have a great time in 2009.
I will be a final year medical student – meaning I am not sure of how often I will be able to post.
I shall try my best to keep enlightening all of you.
Keep reading – be it 2008 or 2009…
Wednesday 31 December 2008
Infidelity
I watched a Malayalam movie about 4 or 5 months back which made me re-think my stand on infidelity. The movie was ‘Ore kadal’ by Shyamaprasad. It is based on a Bengali book which goes by the name of ‘Herrak Deepthy’ by Sunil Gangopadhyay.
I have liked all of Shyamaprasad’s movies till date and as far as Sunil Gangopahyay’s books are concerned – I have been dying to lay my hands on any of them. Many of his books have been made into movies by Satyajit Ray – I think that is self explanatory.
The story revolves around a stark contrast of four characters.
The hero ‘Nathan’ is a well educated economics professor who loathes attachment – among all the characters in the story this is the one I could relate to the most. The reason he loathes attachment of any sort is only due to fear of loss. And an illiterate, poor and innocent wife of another man guides him out of his cocoon with the power of love. I have not been able to comprehend his change in character towards the end which portrays him as a man madly in love. I do not believe people can change so.
The heroine ‘Deepthy’ is an illiterate lady belonging to the lower middle class society. Her life is about as normal as any other lady in her strata of the society – until she falls prey to temptation. She is a woman who is too unsure of herself to argue with anyone’s wants or needs. She submits to dominance. She falls in love with the pleasure she derives from a man other than her husband. Her feeble mind haunts her when she becomes the mother of his child and this eventually drives her crazy.
After a couple of years she is ‘treated’ and ‘cured’.
But by then Nathan realises he cannot live without the love that can make a woman go literally crazy. The movie ends with Deepthy deciding to stay with Nathan – when her purpose of visiting him was to murder him – again depicting how indecisive her nature can be.
Other than these two characters, there are two other very strong characters – Deepthy’s husband and Nathan’s ‘friend’ Bella.
Deepthy’s husband is a man who wants nothing more than to live a normal life. He loves his wife but does not express it exquisitely. He loves his family. He is a good father. Here we have a man who represents a majority in the Indian society. One who does not want to accept anything out of the ordinary and will go to any lengths to bring his life back to its ‘ordinary’ state.
Bella is Nathan’s friend. She does not believe in attachment but she does believe in love. She was raped by her uncle and cousin when she was too young to even know what rape actually means. Her son died of starvation when she was an adolescent. She has been through a lot of pain in her life and she wants to live only for the moment. She does not look forward to the future nor does she care for the past. She loves being alone but unlike Nathan she does not run away from love.
Infidelity to me was always something that was associated with the ‘cunning’ or ‘smart’ ones. I always thought cheating on one’s partner required one to be shrewd. But this movie changed my outlook. I have now come to the conclusion that infidelity can be committed by those who don’t really know what they want, those who are unsure of themselves, those who submit themselves to others’ wants.
I am not of the opinion that they are less to blame.
I am not of the opinion that what they are committing is less of a sin than those who do it knowingly.
I am not of the opinion that ‘love’ of this sort should be forgiven.
But the movie was enlightening.
I did not know that helplessness can be the cause of infidelity.
I have liked all of Shyamaprasad’s movies till date and as far as Sunil Gangopahyay’s books are concerned – I have been dying to lay my hands on any of them. Many of his books have been made into movies by Satyajit Ray – I think that is self explanatory.
The story revolves around a stark contrast of four characters.
The hero ‘Nathan’ is a well educated economics professor who loathes attachment – among all the characters in the story this is the one I could relate to the most. The reason he loathes attachment of any sort is only due to fear of loss. And an illiterate, poor and innocent wife of another man guides him out of his cocoon with the power of love. I have not been able to comprehend his change in character towards the end which portrays him as a man madly in love. I do not believe people can change so.
The heroine ‘Deepthy’ is an illiterate lady belonging to the lower middle class society. Her life is about as normal as any other lady in her strata of the society – until she falls prey to temptation. She is a woman who is too unsure of herself to argue with anyone’s wants or needs. She submits to dominance. She falls in love with the pleasure she derives from a man other than her husband. Her feeble mind haunts her when she becomes the mother of his child and this eventually drives her crazy.
After a couple of years she is ‘treated’ and ‘cured’.
But by then Nathan realises he cannot live without the love that can make a woman go literally crazy. The movie ends with Deepthy deciding to stay with Nathan – when her purpose of visiting him was to murder him – again depicting how indecisive her nature can be.
Other than these two characters, there are two other very strong characters – Deepthy’s husband and Nathan’s ‘friend’ Bella.
Deepthy’s husband is a man who wants nothing more than to live a normal life. He loves his wife but does not express it exquisitely. He loves his family. He is a good father. Here we have a man who represents a majority in the Indian society. One who does not want to accept anything out of the ordinary and will go to any lengths to bring his life back to its ‘ordinary’ state.
Bella is Nathan’s friend. She does not believe in attachment but she does believe in love. She was raped by her uncle and cousin when she was too young to even know what rape actually means. Her son died of starvation when she was an adolescent. She has been through a lot of pain in her life and she wants to live only for the moment. She does not look forward to the future nor does she care for the past. She loves being alone but unlike Nathan she does not run away from love.
Infidelity to me was always something that was associated with the ‘cunning’ or ‘smart’ ones. I always thought cheating on one’s partner required one to be shrewd. But this movie changed my outlook. I have now come to the conclusion that infidelity can be committed by those who don’t really know what they want, those who are unsure of themselves, those who submit themselves to others’ wants.
I am not of the opinion that they are less to blame.
I am not of the opinion that what they are committing is less of a sin than those who do it knowingly.
I am not of the opinion that ‘love’ of this sort should be forgiven.
But the movie was enlightening.
I did not know that helplessness can be the cause of infidelity.
Tuesday 30 December 2008
Frog Prince
If you do not already know, let me let you know – I am an ardent fan of fairy tales and animated movies. This, on the contrary to what you may believe as true, is not because I believe or expect something of the sort to happen in my life. I love these stories and movies merely for the fact that they make me feel good – always.
I am pretty sure all the fairy tales are just twisted forms of reality. This post is going to be about by ‘real’ form of the Frog Prince.
For those of you who do not know the story of the Frog Prince let me enlighten you.
There are three forms of this tale existing that I am aware of. I personally like the Grimm’s version.
1) The Grimm’s version:
It begins with a princess, who is extremely spoilt and all she does all day is play with her ‘golden ball’ by tossing it up and trying to catch it. Since she is a retard, one fine day, she fails to catch it and the ball falls into a spring. There she sits and weeps – again because she is a retard.
Enter hero of our story – the ugly frog.
The smartass frog makes a deal with the retard princess and she agrees to let the frog eat with her, sleep with her and accepts the frog as her true love if the frog gets her ball back. Now the retard princess is pretty shrewd because she has no plans of keeping her promise. And hence, once she gets her ball, she runs back to her palace.
But she forgets, the hero of our story is not just an ugly frog – he is the smartass hero!
So the frog finds his way to the palace and reminds the princess of her promise. The king overhears their conversation (sneaky king!) and tells his daughter to keep her promise at all cost – the king actually makes his daughter sleep with a frog!
After three nights of the same old routine of eating form the same plate and sleeping on the same bed, the frog miraculously transforms into a handsome prince… and the rest is history.
2) The slightly modified version:
In this version the story remains the same until the frog comes to the palace. But in this version, the sight of the ugly frog and the thought of sleeping with him infuriates the princess and she flings the frog across her room. THUD!
Now, the retard psychopathic princess gets back to her senses and realizes she does not want to be a murderer; and she definitely does not want the animal rights activists hounding her. So she apologizes to the poor injured frog and kisses it.
The frog miraculously transforms into the handsome prince and he explains to her about the curse which she just broke. On his way out of her room the king sees them and Ahem! The rest is history.
3) The fairy tale version of the fairy tale:
I hate this version because it has no emotion in it.
It really has no ‘masala’.
And this is the version most of the children today know – which makes me hate it even more.
In this version the princess is this wonderful, loving, generous, meek creature who will do anything for anybody. One fine day while she is taking a stroll she sees this ugly frog weeping near a spring. She asks the frog what is wrong and he tells her he wants to be kissed – wtf!!!
Now since the princess is so wonderful, loving, generous and meek she kisses the ugly frog. The frog transforms into the prince and he asks her to marry him. The princess obviously does not know how to say ‘no’ to anybody so she agrees. The rest is history.
So that was the enlightening bit.
Now for what I deduce from these tales:
I believe the frog here represents an ugly man who is not worth much.
I believe he does not transform into any handsome prince.
I believe after spending three nights with him the princess falls in ‘love’ with him or after kissing him she falls in ‘love’ with him – probably he is amazing kisser.
And once you fall in love even an ugly frog can look like a handsome prince – because according to my very favourite Shakespeare, love is blind.
Hence there is no curse as such
– Unless you consider being born as an ugly, poor man a curse.
The miracle is just love.
Love breaks the barriers of riches and beauty in this tale.
I think my deduction is pretty awesome.
Let me know if you agree.
I am pretty sure all the fairy tales are just twisted forms of reality. This post is going to be about by ‘real’ form of the Frog Prince.
For those of you who do not know the story of the Frog Prince let me enlighten you.
There are three forms of this tale existing that I am aware of. I personally like the Grimm’s version.
1) The Grimm’s version:
It begins with a princess, who is extremely spoilt and all she does all day is play with her ‘golden ball’ by tossing it up and trying to catch it. Since she is a retard, one fine day, she fails to catch it and the ball falls into a spring. There she sits and weeps – again because she is a retard.
Enter hero of our story – the ugly frog.
The smartass frog makes a deal with the retard princess and she agrees to let the frog eat with her, sleep with her and accepts the frog as her true love if the frog gets her ball back. Now the retard princess is pretty shrewd because she has no plans of keeping her promise. And hence, once she gets her ball, she runs back to her palace.
But she forgets, the hero of our story is not just an ugly frog – he is the smartass hero!
So the frog finds his way to the palace and reminds the princess of her promise. The king overhears their conversation (sneaky king!) and tells his daughter to keep her promise at all cost – the king actually makes his daughter sleep with a frog!
After three nights of the same old routine of eating form the same plate and sleeping on the same bed, the frog miraculously transforms into a handsome prince… and the rest is history.
2) The slightly modified version:
In this version the story remains the same until the frog comes to the palace. But in this version, the sight of the ugly frog and the thought of sleeping with him infuriates the princess and she flings the frog across her room. THUD!
Now, the retard psychopathic princess gets back to her senses and realizes she does not want to be a murderer; and she definitely does not want the animal rights activists hounding her. So she apologizes to the poor injured frog and kisses it.
The frog miraculously transforms into the handsome prince and he explains to her about the curse which she just broke. On his way out of her room the king sees them and Ahem! The rest is history.
3) The fairy tale version of the fairy tale:
I hate this version because it has no emotion in it.
It really has no ‘masala’.
And this is the version most of the children today know – which makes me hate it even more.
In this version the princess is this wonderful, loving, generous, meek creature who will do anything for anybody. One fine day while she is taking a stroll she sees this ugly frog weeping near a spring. She asks the frog what is wrong and he tells her he wants to be kissed – wtf!!!
Now since the princess is so wonderful, loving, generous and meek she kisses the ugly frog. The frog transforms into the prince and he asks her to marry him. The princess obviously does not know how to say ‘no’ to anybody so she agrees. The rest is history.
So that was the enlightening bit.
Now for what I deduce from these tales:
I believe the frog here represents an ugly man who is not worth much.
I believe he does not transform into any handsome prince.
I believe after spending three nights with him the princess falls in ‘love’ with him or after kissing him she falls in ‘love’ with him – probably he is amazing kisser.
And once you fall in love even an ugly frog can look like a handsome prince – because according to my very favourite Shakespeare, love is blind.
Hence there is no curse as such
– Unless you consider being born as an ugly, poor man a curse.
The miracle is just love.
Love breaks the barriers of riches and beauty in this tale.
I think my deduction is pretty awesome.
Let me know if you agree.
Then the tag came along
I have been planning on posting about certain specific subjects of interest (MY interest) for quite a few days now. But something or the other just seems to come up.
Now, this tag has come along.
Not that I have anything against tagging but the idea of answering questions about myself does not hold much interest for me.
So this tag is being answered for the ‘pleasure’ of my readers alone.
And for the first time I am posting more for my readers and less for myself – this being a very generous gesture should be acknowledged by all.
A humongous Thank you to Keyzer Soze for tagging me – it is an opportunity to make my blog almost as versatile as yours. But there are no hugs and slaps on the back attached with this thank you! I am going to try answering this tag as much to the point as I can – God help me!
I hope it is not boring.
Here goes:
1. Pick out a scar you have, and explain how you got it:
I do not have many scars to boast about. I wish I did though. I have even considered self mutilation for more scars – scars make one look more dangerous.
Of the ones I have here is how I got them:
1) A 5 inch long vertical scar near my left knee:
I was about twelve or thirteen when I got this one. I was into practising acrobatics on my study chair then – which made my chair more of a rocking chair than a study chair. One particular afternoon, I had placed my chair right in between my bed and my cupboard so that I could ‘restrict’ entry into my hiding place. The study chair served as the gate. After I made sure nobody was interested in entering my territory I tried slipping in via the space between the back of my chair and the bed, I did not know there was a nail poking right out of the back of the chair. The more I tried to slip out of the tiny space the worse the wound got. Finally, my mom rescued me – so much for ‘restricting entry’. I was too stubborn to get the wound sutured after getting the tetanus shots. I went for my singing classes the same day and ended up howling rather than singing.
Well, I miss my chair.
2) A 3 inch long horizontal scar on my left shin:
This is a mysterious scar. I was playing around with my uncle and the next thing I know is a stinging pain and unstoppable bleeding. I still wonder how I managed to hurt myself because we were not playing with anything that was sharp enough to cause the wound. This time I was too stubborn to get the sutures AND the tetanus shots. I am glad I did not die of tetanus.
3) A funny looking circular scar on my left knee:
I fell about a year back. I am a klutz. Nobody saw me fall – I think.
4) A curvilinear scar running halfway across my right hand middle finger:
This story has already been blogged about in ‘The middle finger’. In short, it was all thanks to a pedestal fan I tried saying ‘Hello’ to. Four deep stitches, eight superficial stitches, an elephantine dose of anaesthesia, a tetanus shot which immobilized my left arm for 3 days and one month of not being able to use my right hand has taught me to be rude to pedestal fans.
5) A smooth double scar on my scalp:
Now you must be wondering what a double scar is. It is acquired with much effort when there is a pre existing scar and you get a wound almost right on it again.
The first scar was thanks to my super dumb status when I was 3 years old. I still cannot believe I could have been so stupid then.
My mom had left me on a swing and first I tried swinging after letting go of my left hand.
I was quite successful.
Then I tried letting go of my right hand.
I was still successful.
And then, I think, I imagined myself to be Superman.
I let go of both my hands. And to my delight, just like Superman I went flying. I landed with a thud.
Apparently I was quite a brave child and did not wince even once when the ten stitches were sutured into my scalp – I wonder if my then empty skull had anything to do with it.
The wound which made it a double scar was deeper. I was about ten years old and I had committed the grave mistake of tickling my elder sister (along with irritating the hell out of her). And so, she tried tickling me. I am not ticklish. Her efforts at tickling me made me mock her.
I overdid it. I slipped. I fell.
I hit my head at the edge of a table and did not know I had hurt myself until the blood was pouring down my face.
My sisters freaked – they thought I was going to die!!!
Stitches again, this time I had to try real hard not to wince because I had to keep up my image of being the ‘brave girl’ – I tell you living up to others’ expectations really hurts!
I had a birthday party to attend that evening. I loved the attention. I hated looking like an Egyptian mummy.
And hence two head injuries sealed my future of eternal insanity.
Most of the other scars I have painfully attained have faded out.
I really want a scar across my eyebrow – been dreaming of it ever since I was a little girl.
2. What does your phone look like?
I think it looks like a phone. I think you will also think it looks like a phone.
I have three phones as of now – one Nokia 6125 flip which I rarely use, then my college phone a Nokia 6610i and thirdly (my personal favourite) an orange Nokia 1100.
I use them interchangeably according to where I am going, who I am going with and what I feel like carrying with me.
3. What is on the walls of your bedroom?
My hostel room is where I currently stay, so I think ‘my bedroom’ can be considered synonymous to my hostel room.
- The walls are filled with bright pink and green chart paper cut into circles and stuck randomly – some of which have fallen off
- Ten of my favourite birthday cards that I have saved over the years
- A couple of photographs of myself, family and friends over the course of the past ten years.
- Lots of posters some with hot men and some with wild animals on them. And then there is one particular poster with babies that I am not too fond of but got as a birthday gift.
- A couple of inspirational quotes and a couple of funny ones.
- And I hang my innumerable handbags on my wall.
That is about it.
The image in this post has my wall in the background - 'My middle finger'
4. What is your current desktop picture?
Currently it is a black and white picture of my darling, Kurt Cobain and his guitar on a couch.
5. Do you believe in gay marriage?
I believe in following my beliefs. Since I am not gay this puts me in a tough position. I think every gay person should follow his belief and go get married if he/she wants to. I do not believe in it nor do I plan on following it.
6. What do you want more than anything right now?
I want to eat to my hearts content.
I want to sleep until I no longer feel sleepy.
I want peace of mind.
I want to find nowhere (more than anything else).
7. What time were you born?
11:50pm on 12th of September 1987.
10. Last person who made you cry?
I was under the overbearing and excessive influence of alcohol. I do not know what or who made me cry. I jus know I was bawling out loud and threatening to murder God.
11. What is your favourite perfume/cologne?
I love all Givenchy perfumes especially Organza Indecence and Extravagance d'Amarige.
12. What kind of hair/eye colour do you like in the opposite sex?
Hair colour – should be salt and pepper. I know it is weird but I love a teeny weeny little bit of grey in otherwise dark hair.
Eye colour – I think I like brown or maybe grey.
13. What are you listening to?
Right now I am listening to ‘Hole in my soul’ – Aerosmith. The last song was ‘Hallelujah’ – Rufus Wainwright. The next song is ‘Rape me’ – Nirvana.
Do not be judgemental.
I love my music – if you don’t it is your fault, not mine.
14. Do you get scared of the dark?
Until my eyes get accustomed to the darkness I feel uncomfortable, not scared though. I was never scared of the dark, even as a child. I do not like the idea of not being able to see and having to feel my way around in the dark though. I have an awesome sense of smell and hearing which certainly helps– I think the credit goes to my high myopic eyes.
15. Do you like painkillers?
Painkillers are usually associated with pain, so I am not sure if I like them.
I like the colour of Brufen.
I had to take suppository painkillers around five years ago – it goes without saying what I felt about them. They gave me a real tough time; it was way better bearing the pain than shoving those slippery tiny rockets up my ass.
I have had Tramadol (an opiate derivative) twice in my life. The first time was quite a trip but the second, unfortunately, did not have any of its usual ‘much-looked-forward-to’ effect.
16. Are you too shy to ask someone out?
No, I am not.
I have never been.
I don’t think I ever will be.
17. If you could eat anything right now, what would it be?
This will be a never ending answer if I try too hard to answer it.
Right at this very moment, I feel like having a Mc chicken along with one of those yummy apple pies from Mc Donalds.
18. Who was the last person who made you mad?
Not a person – My university examinations did drive me mad though.
I was angry at the world. I was angry at myself. I was so angry at everyone.
I am glad they are done with.
19. Who was the last person who made you smile?
The last person who made me smile, I think, was the same person who tagged me. Something he said a while ago made me smile, I can’t remember what exactly.
Food always makes me smile by the way!
And hence I complete this task!
It has been a very long and tedious process.
I tag Genesis of Oblivion – I want to know how much more similar we can get!
Now, this tag has come along.
Not that I have anything against tagging but the idea of answering questions about myself does not hold much interest for me.
So this tag is being answered for the ‘pleasure’ of my readers alone.
And for the first time I am posting more for my readers and less for myself – this being a very generous gesture should be acknowledged by all.
A humongous Thank you to Keyzer Soze for tagging me – it is an opportunity to make my blog almost as versatile as yours. But there are no hugs and slaps on the back attached with this thank you! I am going to try answering this tag as much to the point as I can – God help me!
I hope it is not boring.
Here goes:
1. Pick out a scar you have, and explain how you got it:
I do not have many scars to boast about. I wish I did though. I have even considered self mutilation for more scars – scars make one look more dangerous.
Of the ones I have here is how I got them:
1) A 5 inch long vertical scar near my left knee:
I was about twelve or thirteen when I got this one. I was into practising acrobatics on my study chair then – which made my chair more of a rocking chair than a study chair. One particular afternoon, I had placed my chair right in between my bed and my cupboard so that I could ‘restrict’ entry into my hiding place. The study chair served as the gate. After I made sure nobody was interested in entering my territory I tried slipping in via the space between the back of my chair and the bed, I did not know there was a nail poking right out of the back of the chair. The more I tried to slip out of the tiny space the worse the wound got. Finally, my mom rescued me – so much for ‘restricting entry’. I was too stubborn to get the wound sutured after getting the tetanus shots. I went for my singing classes the same day and ended up howling rather than singing.
Well, I miss my chair.
2) A 3 inch long horizontal scar on my left shin:
This is a mysterious scar. I was playing around with my uncle and the next thing I know is a stinging pain and unstoppable bleeding. I still wonder how I managed to hurt myself because we were not playing with anything that was sharp enough to cause the wound. This time I was too stubborn to get the sutures AND the tetanus shots. I am glad I did not die of tetanus.
3) A funny looking circular scar on my left knee:
I fell about a year back. I am a klutz. Nobody saw me fall – I think.
4) A curvilinear scar running halfway across my right hand middle finger:
This story has already been blogged about in ‘The middle finger’. In short, it was all thanks to a pedestal fan I tried saying ‘Hello’ to. Four deep stitches, eight superficial stitches, an elephantine dose of anaesthesia, a tetanus shot which immobilized my left arm for 3 days and one month of not being able to use my right hand has taught me to be rude to pedestal fans.
5) A smooth double scar on my scalp:
Now you must be wondering what a double scar is. It is acquired with much effort when there is a pre existing scar and you get a wound almost right on it again.
The first scar was thanks to my super dumb status when I was 3 years old. I still cannot believe I could have been so stupid then.
My mom had left me on a swing and first I tried swinging after letting go of my left hand.
I was quite successful.
Then I tried letting go of my right hand.
I was still successful.
And then, I think, I imagined myself to be Superman.
I let go of both my hands. And to my delight, just like Superman I went flying. I landed with a thud.
Apparently I was quite a brave child and did not wince even once when the ten stitches were sutured into my scalp – I wonder if my then empty skull had anything to do with it.
The wound which made it a double scar was deeper. I was about ten years old and I had committed the grave mistake of tickling my elder sister (along with irritating the hell out of her). And so, she tried tickling me. I am not ticklish. Her efforts at tickling me made me mock her.
I overdid it. I slipped. I fell.
I hit my head at the edge of a table and did not know I had hurt myself until the blood was pouring down my face.
My sisters freaked – they thought I was going to die!!!
Stitches again, this time I had to try real hard not to wince because I had to keep up my image of being the ‘brave girl’ – I tell you living up to others’ expectations really hurts!
I had a birthday party to attend that evening. I loved the attention. I hated looking like an Egyptian mummy.
And hence two head injuries sealed my future of eternal insanity.
Most of the other scars I have painfully attained have faded out.
I really want a scar across my eyebrow – been dreaming of it ever since I was a little girl.
2. What does your phone look like?
I think it looks like a phone. I think you will also think it looks like a phone.
I have three phones as of now – one Nokia 6125 flip which I rarely use, then my college phone a Nokia 6610i and thirdly (my personal favourite) an orange Nokia 1100.
I use them interchangeably according to where I am going, who I am going with and what I feel like carrying with me.
3. What is on the walls of your bedroom?
My hostel room is where I currently stay, so I think ‘my bedroom’ can be considered synonymous to my hostel room.
- The walls are filled with bright pink and green chart paper cut into circles and stuck randomly – some of which have fallen off
- Ten of my favourite birthday cards that I have saved over the years
- A couple of photographs of myself, family and friends over the course of the past ten years.
- Lots of posters some with hot men and some with wild animals on them. And then there is one particular poster with babies that I am not too fond of but got as a birthday gift.
- A couple of inspirational quotes and a couple of funny ones.
- And I hang my innumerable handbags on my wall.
That is about it.
The image in this post has my wall in the background - 'My middle finger'
4. What is your current desktop picture?
Currently it is a black and white picture of my darling, Kurt Cobain and his guitar on a couch.
5. Do you believe in gay marriage?
I believe in following my beliefs. Since I am not gay this puts me in a tough position. I think every gay person should follow his belief and go get married if he/she wants to. I do not believe in it nor do I plan on following it.
6. What do you want more than anything right now?
I want to eat to my hearts content.
I want to sleep until I no longer feel sleepy.
I want peace of mind.
I want to find nowhere (more than anything else).
7. What time were you born?
11:50pm on 12th of September 1987.
10. Last person who made you cry?
I was under the overbearing and excessive influence of alcohol. I do not know what or who made me cry. I jus know I was bawling out loud and threatening to murder God.
11. What is your favourite perfume/cologne?
I love all Givenchy perfumes especially Organza Indecence and Extravagance d'Amarige.
12. What kind of hair/eye colour do you like in the opposite sex?
Hair colour – should be salt and pepper. I know it is weird but I love a teeny weeny little bit of grey in otherwise dark hair.
Eye colour – I think I like brown or maybe grey.
13. What are you listening to?
Right now I am listening to ‘Hole in my soul’ – Aerosmith. The last song was ‘Hallelujah’ – Rufus Wainwright. The next song is ‘Rape me’ – Nirvana.
Do not be judgemental.
I love my music – if you don’t it is your fault, not mine.
14. Do you get scared of the dark?
Until my eyes get accustomed to the darkness I feel uncomfortable, not scared though. I was never scared of the dark, even as a child. I do not like the idea of not being able to see and having to feel my way around in the dark though. I have an awesome sense of smell and hearing which certainly helps– I think the credit goes to my high myopic eyes.
15. Do you like painkillers?
Painkillers are usually associated with pain, so I am not sure if I like them.
I like the colour of Brufen.
I had to take suppository painkillers around five years ago – it goes without saying what I felt about them. They gave me a real tough time; it was way better bearing the pain than shoving those slippery tiny rockets up my ass.
I have had Tramadol (an opiate derivative) twice in my life. The first time was quite a trip but the second, unfortunately, did not have any of its usual ‘much-looked-forward-to’ effect.
16. Are you too shy to ask someone out?
No, I am not.
I have never been.
I don’t think I ever will be.
17. If you could eat anything right now, what would it be?
This will be a never ending answer if I try too hard to answer it.
Right at this very moment, I feel like having a Mc chicken along with one of those yummy apple pies from Mc Donalds.
18. Who was the last person who made you mad?
Not a person – My university examinations did drive me mad though.
I was angry at the world. I was angry at myself. I was so angry at everyone.
I am glad they are done with.
19. Who was the last person who made you smile?
The last person who made me smile, I think, was the same person who tagged me. Something he said a while ago made me smile, I can’t remember what exactly.
Food always makes me smile by the way!
And hence I complete this task!
It has been a very long and tedious process.
I tag Genesis of Oblivion – I want to know how much more similar we can get!
Sunday 28 December 2008
Three days
Thanks to the remarkable advances in the means of communication today, many a times one tends to know better about people he has never met in his life than about the person he lives with.
I am good friends with quite a few people I have never met; some of them I do not plan on meeting - ever, while some of them I look forward to meet.
I spend four days at my hometown in India recently.
It was wonderful to be home.
I usually get bored easily at home, but this time it was different – I always found myself in a position where I had something to do, somewhere to be, someone to meet…
This post is about the time I spend with Mr S, from my point of view.
I wonder if he will post his point of view.
Day 0
This is the day I left Mangalore – destination Trivandrum.
I did not sleep the whole night, was busy cleaning up the post examination mess, packing and most importantly partying.
I had breakfast which did manage to make me momentarily happy until I remembered the ‘waiting list’ status of my 16 hour train journey and the impending trekking trip hunting for a pair of trousers for my brother in law as an anniversary gift in a shop located right in the middle of an extremely disorganised construction site.
The trekking trip was not fun – thanks to the extreme difficulty I was facing trying to keep my sleepy eyes open.
The waiting list status became an RAC seat.
I had no idea what that meant until my friend explained RAC meant I was supposed to share the lower side berth with a stranger.
The journey was almost uneventful except for the fact that I was surrounded by under-fives. There were six babies in my bogey – and I am not exaggerating.
Sometimes I really wonder if there is someone up there trying to teach me a lesson.
I hate babies more today, if that is possible.
Day 1
I reached Trivandrum at 5:30 in the morning – sleepy but mentally as sound as I can be expected to be.
I was supposed to meet S at nine thirty, but my being human led me to sleep till ten thirty. I met him at eleven.
I realised the following:
- Photos can lie, but not much.
- It is not easy to make a conversation in person.
- People sound different in person.
- I hate silence.
- Jobless girls waiting for hours at ice cream parlours for their dates to arrive distract men who do not have the power to make conversation with a friend they know for the last six months.
- Not everyone likes eating ice creams from cones – I did not know that!!!
- I hate being aware of someone judging every action of mine, makes me self conscious and I freeze.
- Tastes in music can differ to the point that the argument can never be settled – ever.
It was quite enlightening.
So I met S again in the evening.
This time we went to a lighthouse.
I realised the following:
- Impressions made on first meetings can be wrong.
- With time the conversation becomes easy.
- It irritates men to have to walk 200m due to lack of parking space.
- It is difficult to climb a ladder with a bottle of water in one hand.
- I am STILL scared of heights.
- The fear of heights can be overcome with the help of scenic beauty.
- I love letting my feet dangle, sitting on top of a lighthouse.
- Silence is not so bad after all.
- The water sparkles more just before sunset.
- There are people alike me who enjoy making faces for photographs.
- Climbing down a ladder is easier than climbing up one with a bottle in one hand.
- Pre planning sucks.
- The first meeting may very well seem like not the first meeting.
- Light houses are beautiful, awesome, amazing, lovely, marvellous places.
- Traffic in Trivandrum can be a real pain thanks to people deciding to celebrate God-alone-knows-what (not Christmas) on the roads.
- Returning home late on the first day back can also be a pain.
Day 2
Next we met on Christmas. Christmas eve was spend hogging with cousins and family. S came home and stayed home for more than 4 hours before we decided to go to the zoo.
I realised the following:
- My mother can talk for hours with friends of mine with whom I have difficulty carrying on a decent conversation.
- My sister has inherited the same trait from my mother.
- It takes time to decide where to go out to in Trivandrum because there are very few places that may serve to be interesting.
- My house can be interesting.
- The art gallery in Trivandrum is awesome.
- I appreciate art – I did not know that.
- The zoo is humongous; even if you are walking at a brisk pace it takes more than half an hour to see the whole place.
- I am not fond of birds and primates; there are other people like me.
- The King cobra in the zoo looks like a dark python and moves at a pace of a sloth.
- I am fond of snakes and reptiles.
- Lions pee on you if they get angry.
- If S had not tried to be a hero, both of us would have been peed on by a lion.
- I do not like the idea of getting peed on.
- S would love to be peed on by a lion.
- Animals have a tendency to get perturbed by my presence – I wonder why.
- My presence in the zoo was responsible for all the animals being extra active and putting on a good show to all the people who visited the zoo that day.
- The roads are empty on Christmas.
- Reaching back home earlier than what is expected is considered mysterious.
Day 3
This was my last day at Trivandrum. I finished my packing in advance because the shortcomings of sleepless nights due to packing were still fresh in my mind – Day 0.
S and I decided to go grab a bite for brunch. We ended up going to the museum.
I realised the following:
- I am usually fond of museums but not all museums.
- The Trivandrum museum is very disappointing.
- My sense of direction is still at its worst.
- I do not enjoy observing stone idols which are 600 years old.
- I enjoy observing table cloths, trays and ‘royal chairs’ which are hundreds of years old – they really look funny.
- I lose my appetite after a disappointing museum trip.
- Even if the museum is disappointing, the conversation can keep you animate and interested.
- Homes which have been transformed into tiny eat outs are beautiful.
- I love Italian food, even if it is for brunch.
- Pizzas can be dissatisfying and soups can be impressive.
- Not everyone has a horrible sense of direction like me; S always knew the way back home – which was a relief.
- Saying ‘goodbye’ sucks, it is better to say ‘see you later’.
- I had an amazing time at Trivandrum, thanks to a friend I met for the first time three days before my departure.
So next time you are planning on meeting up a friend you have made thanks to the world wide web or other advances in networking – make sure you keep an open mind. The first few hours might seem like hell but then it keeps getting better.
Thank you, Mr S!!!
I am good friends with quite a few people I have never met; some of them I do not plan on meeting - ever, while some of them I look forward to meet.
I spend four days at my hometown in India recently.
It was wonderful to be home.
I usually get bored easily at home, but this time it was different – I always found myself in a position where I had something to do, somewhere to be, someone to meet…
This post is about the time I spend with Mr S, from my point of view.
I wonder if he will post his point of view.
Day 0
This is the day I left Mangalore – destination Trivandrum.
I did not sleep the whole night, was busy cleaning up the post examination mess, packing and most importantly partying.
I had breakfast which did manage to make me momentarily happy until I remembered the ‘waiting list’ status of my 16 hour train journey and the impending trekking trip hunting for a pair of trousers for my brother in law as an anniversary gift in a shop located right in the middle of an extremely disorganised construction site.
The trekking trip was not fun – thanks to the extreme difficulty I was facing trying to keep my sleepy eyes open.
The waiting list status became an RAC seat.
I had no idea what that meant until my friend explained RAC meant I was supposed to share the lower side berth with a stranger.
The journey was almost uneventful except for the fact that I was surrounded by under-fives. There were six babies in my bogey – and I am not exaggerating.
Sometimes I really wonder if there is someone up there trying to teach me a lesson.
I hate babies more today, if that is possible.
Day 1
I reached Trivandrum at 5:30 in the morning – sleepy but mentally as sound as I can be expected to be.
I was supposed to meet S at nine thirty, but my being human led me to sleep till ten thirty. I met him at eleven.
I realised the following:
- Photos can lie, but not much.
- It is not easy to make a conversation in person.
- People sound different in person.
- I hate silence.
- Jobless girls waiting for hours at ice cream parlours for their dates to arrive distract men who do not have the power to make conversation with a friend they know for the last six months.
- Not everyone likes eating ice creams from cones – I did not know that!!!
- I hate being aware of someone judging every action of mine, makes me self conscious and I freeze.
- Tastes in music can differ to the point that the argument can never be settled – ever.
It was quite enlightening.
So I met S again in the evening.
This time we went to a lighthouse.
I realised the following:
- Impressions made on first meetings can be wrong.
- With time the conversation becomes easy.
- It irritates men to have to walk 200m due to lack of parking space.
- It is difficult to climb a ladder with a bottle of water in one hand.
- I am STILL scared of heights.
- The fear of heights can be overcome with the help of scenic beauty.
- I love letting my feet dangle, sitting on top of a lighthouse.
- Silence is not so bad after all.
- The water sparkles more just before sunset.
- There are people alike me who enjoy making faces for photographs.
- Climbing down a ladder is easier than climbing up one with a bottle in one hand.
- Pre planning sucks.
- The first meeting may very well seem like not the first meeting.
- Light houses are beautiful, awesome, amazing, lovely, marvellous places.
- Traffic in Trivandrum can be a real pain thanks to people deciding to celebrate God-alone-knows-what (not Christmas) on the roads.
- Returning home late on the first day back can also be a pain.
Day 2
Next we met on Christmas. Christmas eve was spend hogging with cousins and family. S came home and stayed home for more than 4 hours before we decided to go to the zoo.
I realised the following:
- My mother can talk for hours with friends of mine with whom I have difficulty carrying on a decent conversation.
- My sister has inherited the same trait from my mother.
- It takes time to decide where to go out to in Trivandrum because there are very few places that may serve to be interesting.
- My house can be interesting.
- The art gallery in Trivandrum is awesome.
- I appreciate art – I did not know that.
- The zoo is humongous; even if you are walking at a brisk pace it takes more than half an hour to see the whole place.
- I am not fond of birds and primates; there are other people like me.
- The King cobra in the zoo looks like a dark python and moves at a pace of a sloth.
- I am fond of snakes and reptiles.
- Lions pee on you if they get angry.
- If S had not tried to be a hero, both of us would have been peed on by a lion.
- I do not like the idea of getting peed on.
- S would love to be peed on by a lion.
- Animals have a tendency to get perturbed by my presence – I wonder why.
- My presence in the zoo was responsible for all the animals being extra active and putting on a good show to all the people who visited the zoo that day.
- The roads are empty on Christmas.
- Reaching back home earlier than what is expected is considered mysterious.
Day 3
This was my last day at Trivandrum. I finished my packing in advance because the shortcomings of sleepless nights due to packing were still fresh in my mind – Day 0.
S and I decided to go grab a bite for brunch. We ended up going to the museum.
I realised the following:
- I am usually fond of museums but not all museums.
- The Trivandrum museum is very disappointing.
- My sense of direction is still at its worst.
- I do not enjoy observing stone idols which are 600 years old.
- I enjoy observing table cloths, trays and ‘royal chairs’ which are hundreds of years old – they really look funny.
- I lose my appetite after a disappointing museum trip.
- Even if the museum is disappointing, the conversation can keep you animate and interested.
- Homes which have been transformed into tiny eat outs are beautiful.
- I love Italian food, even if it is for brunch.
- Pizzas can be dissatisfying and soups can be impressive.
- Not everyone has a horrible sense of direction like me; S always knew the way back home – which was a relief.
- Saying ‘goodbye’ sucks, it is better to say ‘see you later’.
- I had an amazing time at Trivandrum, thanks to a friend I met for the first time three days before my departure.
So next time you are planning on meeting up a friend you have made thanks to the world wide web or other advances in networking – make sure you keep an open mind. The first few hours might seem like hell but then it keeps getting better.
Thank you, Mr S!!!
Community Medicine
I have been ‘expected’ to study Community Medicine since my first year of MBBS.
Community Medicine, also known as Social and Preventive Medicine or Preventive and Social Medicine is basically everything under the sun.
- We are expected to know about all the diseases in the world – Their significance, prevalence, symptoms, management, prevention. Basically, almost everything about the diseases is ‘within curriculum’.
- We are expected know all about pollution, noise control, measuring humidity, temperature, environment and all its influence.
- We are expected to know about all the insects that can spread any disease known to man. Their morphology, how many legs they have, how many pairs of eyes they have, how we can differentiate them from some other unheard of insect. And as far as their names are concerned – it is Greek and Latin – and I mean it, quite literally.
- We are expected to know how high the roof of a factory is supposed to be, the measurements of a sanitary toilet, the requirements of a sanitary well, how to build wells, how much chlorine to add to purify water and what pesticide has what effect on which pest.
- We are supposed to know the nutritional requirements of every age group and every sex (male/female/in betweens). We are supposed to know the amount of calories in all sorts of food items – half of which I haven’t even heard of. Pulses, fruits, vegetables rich in particular vitamins and minerals, of which we are supposed to know those that are cheap and those that are not cheap!!
- All sorts of national programmes that have been implemented for the prevention and control of every disease in the world, when it was implemented, its objectives, who it caters to and what it has achieved till date – which is usually nothing much.
- Every organisation that is working for the betterment of the human species, what they have done, who they have collaborated with and why they do what they do not actually do.
Community Medicine is not an easy subject.
I like the subject though.
We are expected to learn from a book written by a very learned lady, Dr. Park.
It is an amazing book. It puts me to sleep sometimes, but I think she has done an awesome job with a subject like Community Medicine.
Now this post is not about the subject. It is about my university exam which I gave on December 5th.
I tried cleaning my room on the 3rd of December and then forgot to dry my hair after a shower – this in my world means sure shot monster cold.
Monster cold struck on 4th December. I had miraculously run short of my cetrizine supplies. Cetrizine is my sole hope for survival, my hero in times of distressing leaky nose. At eight in the evening I decided I was fighting a losing battle and got a couple of tablets of a first generation anti histamine – which has proven sedative effects.
I have a very weird system.
Sedatives don’t really work on me.
I have to be given elephantine doses of anaesthetics for them to take effect – which is quite a pain – again, literally.
So while taking the anti histamine the sedative effects were the least of my concerns, even considering that I had finished reading only one chapter for my exam the next day. Half an hour and the words seem to be blurring.
I wake up at four in the morning – my elder sister’s extreme concern about the exam I was supposed to give the next day irritated my beautiful slumber. I learnt the next day that I told her I had actually charted out a time table and was timing each page – Yes; I have the uncanny ability to lie believably ONLY when I am asleep.
At eight in the morning, after almost twelve hours of deep, dreamless sleep, I woke up – sneezing.
I still had the freaking cold.
I had an exam to write in two hours time.
And I had read one chapter.
I had read that one chapter pretty well though, but considering it contributed only four marks out of sixty I had every reason to freak out.
And so, I freaked.
After half an hour of freaking which includes cracking my knuckles a million times, biting my already cut nails, walking back and forth like a mad woman and screaming out in a language I do not understand myself; I calmed down.
I had breakfast.
I read two random pages from the text which has around 750 pages and got dressed.
On the way, while walking towards the college examination hall my friend tried to teach me.
Most of the questions were totally unexpected according to those students who spend 23 hours 59 minutes and 59 seconds of every day slogging.
I could not have been happier.
I am not a sadist – but I cannot imagine what I would have done to myself had I sat up all night and studied to attempt an ‘unexpected’ paper.
The prayers and the good luck worked.
Thankyou!
Community Medicine, also known as Social and Preventive Medicine or Preventive and Social Medicine is basically everything under the sun.
- We are expected to know about all the diseases in the world – Their significance, prevalence, symptoms, management, prevention. Basically, almost everything about the diseases is ‘within curriculum’.
- We are expected know all about pollution, noise control, measuring humidity, temperature, environment and all its influence.
- We are expected to know about all the insects that can spread any disease known to man. Their morphology, how many legs they have, how many pairs of eyes they have, how we can differentiate them from some other unheard of insect. And as far as their names are concerned – it is Greek and Latin – and I mean it, quite literally.
- We are expected to know how high the roof of a factory is supposed to be, the measurements of a sanitary toilet, the requirements of a sanitary well, how to build wells, how much chlorine to add to purify water and what pesticide has what effect on which pest.
- We are supposed to know the nutritional requirements of every age group and every sex (male/female/in betweens). We are supposed to know the amount of calories in all sorts of food items – half of which I haven’t even heard of. Pulses, fruits, vegetables rich in particular vitamins and minerals, of which we are supposed to know those that are cheap and those that are not cheap!!
- All sorts of national programmes that have been implemented for the prevention and control of every disease in the world, when it was implemented, its objectives, who it caters to and what it has achieved till date – which is usually nothing much.
- Every organisation that is working for the betterment of the human species, what they have done, who they have collaborated with and why they do what they do not actually do.
Community Medicine is not an easy subject.
I like the subject though.
We are expected to learn from a book written by a very learned lady, Dr. Park.
It is an amazing book. It puts me to sleep sometimes, but I think she has done an awesome job with a subject like Community Medicine.
Now this post is not about the subject. It is about my university exam which I gave on December 5th.
I tried cleaning my room on the 3rd of December and then forgot to dry my hair after a shower – this in my world means sure shot monster cold.
Monster cold struck on 4th December. I had miraculously run short of my cetrizine supplies. Cetrizine is my sole hope for survival, my hero in times of distressing leaky nose. At eight in the evening I decided I was fighting a losing battle and got a couple of tablets of a first generation anti histamine – which has proven sedative effects.
I have a very weird system.
Sedatives don’t really work on me.
I have to be given elephantine doses of anaesthetics for them to take effect – which is quite a pain – again, literally.
So while taking the anti histamine the sedative effects were the least of my concerns, even considering that I had finished reading only one chapter for my exam the next day. Half an hour and the words seem to be blurring.
I wake up at four in the morning – my elder sister’s extreme concern about the exam I was supposed to give the next day irritated my beautiful slumber. I learnt the next day that I told her I had actually charted out a time table and was timing each page – Yes; I have the uncanny ability to lie believably ONLY when I am asleep.
At eight in the morning, after almost twelve hours of deep, dreamless sleep, I woke up – sneezing.
I still had the freaking cold.
I had an exam to write in two hours time.
And I had read one chapter.
I had read that one chapter pretty well though, but considering it contributed only four marks out of sixty I had every reason to freak out.
And so, I freaked.
After half an hour of freaking which includes cracking my knuckles a million times, biting my already cut nails, walking back and forth like a mad woman and screaming out in a language I do not understand myself; I calmed down.
I had breakfast.
I read two random pages from the text which has around 750 pages and got dressed.
On the way, while walking towards the college examination hall my friend tried to teach me.
Most of the questions were totally unexpected according to those students who spend 23 hours 59 minutes and 59 seconds of every day slogging.
I could not have been happier.
I am not a sadist – but I cannot imagine what I would have done to myself had I sat up all night and studied to attempt an ‘unexpected’ paper.
The prayers and the good luck worked.
Thankyou!
Saturday 27 December 2008
Guess who is back?.. like duh!
I am back.
The universities killed me.
I am sure the prayers and the good luck worked because I seriously cannot imagine my condition had I been left in the land of the dead.
So thank you everyone for bringing me back from the dead.
Now I am alive and I have so much to blog about I do not know where to start!
But first, it is time for me to deliver an acceptance speech.
I WON AN AWARD!!!
It has been about 4 months since I started blogging and this is my first award – I think you should think it is quite an achievement!!!
I know the thought of my blog winning an award might sound hilarious to many (including me) but it is nothing short of awesome to be handed over this distinguished privilege from tys on ice – Thanks for making my comeback from the land of the dead so full of life.
Now tys on ice thinks I am funny – a thought to think over.
He also thinks I do not give a damn about what others think – on second thoughts, maybe I should not think over the thought.
Now for the AWARD:
This award is given to a blog that invests and believes in PROXIMITY - nearness in space, time and relationships! These blogs are exceedingly charming. These kind bloggers aim to find and be friends. They are not interested in prizes or self-aggrandizement. Our hope is that when the ribbons of these prizes are cut, even more friendships are propagated. Please give more attention to these writers! Deliver this award to eight bloggers who must choose eight more and include this cleverly-written text into the body of their award.
Yes I won it.
I know it is hard to believe.
I found it hard to believe myself but deep down inside, at the apex of the left ventricle of my heart I know I deserve it.
I know I am boasting – but I have every right to.
Those of you who have a problem with my not so modest ways can go eat their sour grapes and think about the cacti up their anus.
I hate modesty – to me modesty is nothing short of betrayal.
I shall post about this soon.
And now for the eight I have the POWER to bestow this blessing upon.
I really feel like a fairy god-mother today – a young, beautiful one would be more what I have in mind though, I hate the idea of looking old and haggard while dressing up Cinderellas to look like beauty queens.
And the Cinderellas (in no particular order) are:
1) Keyzer Soze: He let me know about me winning this award. He is a medical student too. One among the first blogs I started reading regularly. I have loved almost every single post of his because it is quite obviously straight from his point of view with no added complexities. He has variety unmatched in his blog – ranging from fiction to personal entries to lyrics written by him. He deserves this award way more than I do.
2) Genesis of oblivion: He is a very young blogger - One who has encouraged me at every step of my blogging period. I am glad he took my advice and started blogging. It is wonderful to see someone who is very alike you express views that might very well be yours in different words.
3) Juxtaposed blogger: A blog I came across pretty recently. He has been a friend of mine since school and I never knew he had a brain until I started reading his blog. Well, apparently his brain is functioning pretty well.
4) Kapila: I am not usually the sort who loves reading fiction in blogs. But this girl can write! I love her short stories because they are always so dramatic. I hope to see more coming!
5) Sandeep Balan: Another blog I came across recently. I love his short stories too. His posts are so descriptive many a times I have felt like I have been to places and met the people he writes about. You make my untamed imagination come alive.
6) Jane Turley: I have just one word to describe this blog – AWESOME! She is a housewife with two sons from England with a fetish for chocolates and Mr Bond. I think her blog is super cool and full of life. I would love to be able to write like her.
7) Sy: I have been a regular reader of this blog ever since I started blogging. He is also British, a recent Dad and a very regular blogger. Hilarious would be an understatement as far as this blog is concerned. His posts always lighten up my day.
8) Nurav Yednap: He has always been one among the very few people I acknowledge as being really smart. He does not post too often. But I love the way he conveys his message in words that are indirectly direct.
So now that we have our Cinderellas and I am back to being jobless at home for holidays in Dubai I shall keep the posts coming regularly and at a fast pace.
P.S: My friends and family have noticed I have been acting a lot weirder than usual recently. Apparently I have gone crazier. So I guess my posts will be wackier than usual. Sorry for the inconvenience – not really…
The universities killed me.
I am sure the prayers and the good luck worked because I seriously cannot imagine my condition had I been left in the land of the dead.
So thank you everyone for bringing me back from the dead.
Now I am alive and I have so much to blog about I do not know where to start!
But first, it is time for me to deliver an acceptance speech.
I WON AN AWARD!!!
It has been about 4 months since I started blogging and this is my first award – I think you should think it is quite an achievement!!!
I know the thought of my blog winning an award might sound hilarious to many (including me) but it is nothing short of awesome to be handed over this distinguished privilege from tys on ice – Thanks for making my comeback from the land of the dead so full of life.
Now tys on ice thinks I am funny – a thought to think over.
He also thinks I do not give a damn about what others think – on second thoughts, maybe I should not think over the thought.
Now for the AWARD:
This award is given to a blog that invests and believes in PROXIMITY - nearness in space, time and relationships! These blogs are exceedingly charming. These kind bloggers aim to find and be friends. They are not interested in prizes or self-aggrandizement. Our hope is that when the ribbons of these prizes are cut, even more friendships are propagated. Please give more attention to these writers! Deliver this award to eight bloggers who must choose eight more and include this cleverly-written text into the body of their award.
Yes I won it.
I know it is hard to believe.
I found it hard to believe myself but deep down inside, at the apex of the left ventricle of my heart I know I deserve it.
I know I am boasting – but I have every right to.
Those of you who have a problem with my not so modest ways can go eat their sour grapes and think about the cacti up their anus.
I hate modesty – to me modesty is nothing short of betrayal.
I shall post about this soon.
And now for the eight I have the POWER to bestow this blessing upon.
I really feel like a fairy god-mother today – a young, beautiful one would be more what I have in mind though, I hate the idea of looking old and haggard while dressing up Cinderellas to look like beauty queens.
And the Cinderellas (in no particular order) are:
1) Keyzer Soze: He let me know about me winning this award. He is a medical student too. One among the first blogs I started reading regularly. I have loved almost every single post of his because it is quite obviously straight from his point of view with no added complexities. He has variety unmatched in his blog – ranging from fiction to personal entries to lyrics written by him. He deserves this award way more than I do.
2) Genesis of oblivion: He is a very young blogger - One who has encouraged me at every step of my blogging period. I am glad he took my advice and started blogging. It is wonderful to see someone who is very alike you express views that might very well be yours in different words.
3) Juxtaposed blogger: A blog I came across pretty recently. He has been a friend of mine since school and I never knew he had a brain until I started reading his blog. Well, apparently his brain is functioning pretty well.
4) Kapila: I am not usually the sort who loves reading fiction in blogs. But this girl can write! I love her short stories because they are always so dramatic. I hope to see more coming!
5) Sandeep Balan: Another blog I came across recently. I love his short stories too. His posts are so descriptive many a times I have felt like I have been to places and met the people he writes about. You make my untamed imagination come alive.
6) Jane Turley: I have just one word to describe this blog – AWESOME! She is a housewife with two sons from England with a fetish for chocolates and Mr Bond. I think her blog is super cool and full of life. I would love to be able to write like her.
7) Sy: I have been a regular reader of this blog ever since I started blogging. He is also British, a recent Dad and a very regular blogger. Hilarious would be an understatement as far as this blog is concerned. His posts always lighten up my day.
8) Nurav Yednap: He has always been one among the very few people I acknowledge as being really smart. He does not post too often. But I love the way he conveys his message in words that are indirectly direct.
So now that we have our Cinderellas and I am back to being jobless at home for holidays in Dubai I shall keep the posts coming regularly and at a fast pace.
P.S: My friends and family have noticed I have been acting a lot weirder than usual recently. Apparently I have gone crazier. So I guess my posts will be wackier than usual. Sorry for the inconvenience – not really…
Tuesday 25 November 2008
Until later...
I just happened to look at the calendar today.
And I see it is the 25th of November, Tuesday today.
I wonder why I did that though because the days and dates never bothered me much.
But right now I think it should.
My universities start on the 5th of December.
This means I have just a little over a week to cram into the little bit of grey matter that I do have in my thick skull the entire portion that has been taught to us over the past one year.
And I have not used my grey matter for quite a bit now, so I probably will face some starting trouble.
I did plan on starting earlier - but I fell ill two days ago (hence no posts!)
I believe it is better late than never.
So I am going to start now – which is late; and not later – which is never.
Do wish me luck.
And if you do believe in Him and only if you are in good terms with Him, put in a nice word or two for me.
I have been good to you, have I not?!
I will let you know if it did help.
This is my fifteenth post in the month of November – not bad at all for a month I planned on not posting on!
My universities go on forever in December.
If I am not mistaken I think I should be released from the shackles of third year medicine, once and for all, by Christmas.
I shall try my best to post some time before that – but no promises!
Be good (evil laugh) especially to people who deserve it.
And keep commenting and re-reading my previous posts.
You never can get enough of enlightenment and who knows what wisdom lies hidden between the lines!
I will miss posting – I don’t know if I will miss you readers though, I wonder if there are any readers.
Until later… never mind!
And I see it is the 25th of November, Tuesday today.
I wonder why I did that though because the days and dates never bothered me much.
But right now I think it should.
My universities start on the 5th of December.
This means I have just a little over a week to cram into the little bit of grey matter that I do have in my thick skull the entire portion that has been taught to us over the past one year.
And I have not used my grey matter for quite a bit now, so I probably will face some starting trouble.
I did plan on starting earlier - but I fell ill two days ago (hence no posts!)
I believe it is better late than never.
So I am going to start now – which is late; and not later – which is never.
Do wish me luck.
And if you do believe in Him and only if you are in good terms with Him, put in a nice word or two for me.
I have been good to you, have I not?!
I will let you know if it did help.
This is my fifteenth post in the month of November – not bad at all for a month I planned on not posting on!
My universities go on forever in December.
If I am not mistaken I think I should be released from the shackles of third year medicine, once and for all, by Christmas.
I shall try my best to post some time before that – but no promises!
Be good (evil laugh) especially to people who deserve it.
And keep commenting and re-reading my previous posts.
You never can get enough of enlightenment and who knows what wisdom lies hidden between the lines!
I will miss posting – I don’t know if I will miss you readers though, I wonder if there are any readers.
Until later… never mind!
Crushes and missed rushes
The past few days have been more fun than I expected it to be.
I did not expect it to be fun.
And it was fun.
Hence it was more fun than I expected it to be.
I have had my share of heart breaks.
Maybe I have had more than my share, but I have had my share – that is for sure.
I have been responsible for quite a few too – some that I am proud of and others I am not too proud of.
But I do not regret any.
I am not bitter about love.
I just think love is a belief and a big deal is made about something which is not that great a deal anyway.
If you feel like reading about my thoughts about love, I have already posted them – ‘love blossoms, love continues and love wilts’.
‘Love wilts’ is my favourite among the three – that is pretty evident.
This post is not about love.
This post is about what I have missed in the past couple of years.
I miss having the rush of a crush.
If you have ever had a crush you would know exactly what I mean.
And I am talking only about crushes here
– Nothing about ones in which you dream about love, marriage, children’s names and old age.
– Nothing to do with film stars, rock stars, models or super stars.
– Nothing, whatsoever, to do with family, past or future.
That sort is pretty depressing.
If you don’t know what I am talking about it is my pleasure to enlighten you with the symptoms of the ‘rush of a crush’ syndrome.
1) You have butterflies and the whole animal kingdom in your stomach every time X looks at you.
2) Your throat always becomes as dry as Attacama desert (that is the driest desert in the world – not Sahara – I know I am smart!) every time you try talking to X.
3) You just can’t seem to talk sense to X. You know you are babbling nonsense and making a fool out of yourself but you just can’t help it.
4) You keep waiting for some sort of response from X; a message, a phone call, a date… anything.
5) Songs tend to remind you of X.
6) You start worrying about what X might think of you.
7) You hate that you are not the only one who seems to have ‘feelings’ for X.
8) You sing more often.
9) You spend more time in front of the mirror.
10) You spend hours thinking about what you will wear and what you will say when you meet X – none of which turns out the way it should.
11) You want to call X but you don’t want to look desperate.
12) You can’t help but answer the call at the first ring when X calls.
13) And you know the rest….
I think everyone has suffered from this syndrome at least once in their life.
You suffer from it usually when you are an early teenager.
The funny thing is – I miss it.
I miss having those lame crushes.
I miss making a fool out of myself.
I miss trying to hint at someone how much I like them.
Until a few weeks back I would have laughed at the thought of missing ‘making a fool out of myself’.
But now I realise how nice it actually did feel then.
We grow old too soon.
And I know more than half the people my age are ‘done’ having ‘lame crushes’.
They are probably on the lookout for that special thing called ‘love’ – no comments.
A couple of years from now I will be nothing more than a boring old hag married to a boring old man.
And then, I know for sure; I will miss having crushes – even more.
As weird as it may sound, I don’t really care who my crush is.
What I miss is the feeling associated with having a crush.
I think it is like an adrenaline rush which keeps a smile plastered on your face.
Even the thought of it makes me feel ‘alive’!
So I think it is high time I starting making a ‘fool out of myself’ and had a few ‘lame crushes’ because as far as I am concerned – I don’t have anything to lose!
And if you are not ‘committed’ as yet, I think you should too – because I am sure you will miss it soon.
As silly as it may sound - It is crush time folks!
P.S.: For all those who are ‘committed’:
- If you are in ‘love’ and happy – good for you.
- If you are in ‘love’ and unhappy – I did try to warn you!
- If you are not in love – I honestly feel sorry for you.
Being single is more fun than you thought it to be!
I did not expect it to be fun.
And it was fun.
Hence it was more fun than I expected it to be.
I have had my share of heart breaks.
Maybe I have had more than my share, but I have had my share – that is for sure.
I have been responsible for quite a few too – some that I am proud of and others I am not too proud of.
But I do not regret any.
I am not bitter about love.
I just think love is a belief and a big deal is made about something which is not that great a deal anyway.
If you feel like reading about my thoughts about love, I have already posted them – ‘love blossoms, love continues and love wilts’.
‘Love wilts’ is my favourite among the three – that is pretty evident.
This post is not about love.
This post is about what I have missed in the past couple of years.
I miss having the rush of a crush.
If you have ever had a crush you would know exactly what I mean.
And I am talking only about crushes here
– Nothing about ones in which you dream about love, marriage, children’s names and old age.
– Nothing to do with film stars, rock stars, models or super stars.
– Nothing, whatsoever, to do with family, past or future.
That sort is pretty depressing.
If you don’t know what I am talking about it is my pleasure to enlighten you with the symptoms of the ‘rush of a crush’ syndrome.
1) You have butterflies and the whole animal kingdom in your stomach every time X looks at you.
2) Your throat always becomes as dry as Attacama desert (that is the driest desert in the world – not Sahara – I know I am smart!) every time you try talking to X.
3) You just can’t seem to talk sense to X. You know you are babbling nonsense and making a fool out of yourself but you just can’t help it.
4) You keep waiting for some sort of response from X; a message, a phone call, a date… anything.
5) Songs tend to remind you of X.
6) You start worrying about what X might think of you.
7) You hate that you are not the only one who seems to have ‘feelings’ for X.
8) You sing more often.
9) You spend more time in front of the mirror.
10) You spend hours thinking about what you will wear and what you will say when you meet X – none of which turns out the way it should.
11) You want to call X but you don’t want to look desperate.
12) You can’t help but answer the call at the first ring when X calls.
13) And you know the rest….
I think everyone has suffered from this syndrome at least once in their life.
You suffer from it usually when you are an early teenager.
The funny thing is – I miss it.
I miss having those lame crushes.
I miss making a fool out of myself.
I miss trying to hint at someone how much I like them.
Until a few weeks back I would have laughed at the thought of missing ‘making a fool out of myself’.
But now I realise how nice it actually did feel then.
We grow old too soon.
And I know more than half the people my age are ‘done’ having ‘lame crushes’.
They are probably on the lookout for that special thing called ‘love’ – no comments.
A couple of years from now I will be nothing more than a boring old hag married to a boring old man.
And then, I know for sure; I will miss having crushes – even more.
As weird as it may sound, I don’t really care who my crush is.
What I miss is the feeling associated with having a crush.
I think it is like an adrenaline rush which keeps a smile plastered on your face.
Even the thought of it makes me feel ‘alive’!
So I think it is high time I starting making a ‘fool out of myself’ and had a few ‘lame crushes’ because as far as I am concerned – I don’t have anything to lose!
And if you are not ‘committed’ as yet, I think you should too – because I am sure you will miss it soon.
As silly as it may sound - It is crush time folks!
P.S.: For all those who are ‘committed’:
- If you are in ‘love’ and happy – good for you.
- If you are in ‘love’ and unhappy – I did try to warn you!
- If you are not in love – I honestly feel sorry for you.
Being single is more fun than you thought it to be!
Saturday 22 November 2008
Gullibility
One of my loyal ‘followers’ on the path to enlightenment (even though he doesn’t quite like the idea of following me) asked me to post on gullibility.
Now you might be wondering whether I have reached that ‘zenith of enlightening others’ where I start receiving ‘requests’ from followers on subjects to enlighten – I wish it were true…
But the truth remains that you couldn’t be further from the truth.
He asked me to blog on gullibility because he thinks I am gullible.
But that does not matter as far as this post is concerned.
I am posting on gullibility not because he asked me to, it is because I could not think (at the moment) about anything else to blog about.
This post is about what I think about gullibility.
First (as always) about what the word means to me.
Gullible – I think it is a funny word.
It reminds me of gulls.
We used to have plenty of sea gulls during winter in my school back home.
I do not think gulls are gullible though.
They always make it a point to poop only on people – either on their ‘washed and neatly tied’ hair or their on ‘clean and well pressed’ uniforms.
I have never had a sea gull poop on me.
Not that my uniforms were not clean or my hair not washed.
I think it was because I was like them – not gullible.
I do not mind being gullible actually.
It serves as a nice excuse every time you make a fool out of yourself.
They can always blame those who took ‘undue advantage’ of their gullibility.
And the gullible always have some sort of a ‘mother figure’ somewhere around the corner. A friend/relative/partner who is ready to fight against the crime committed against the poor gullible soul.
I take pity on those who trick the gullible though.
They really need to get a life.
I mean, if you know a person is gullible then the fun is lost.
If you want to trick someone or play a prank choose those who are as cunning as you are, they offer much more satisfaction.
What is the point in making a fool out of a gullible person who everybody already knows is easily tricked?
I would never tell anyone not to lie or trick.
Not that if I tell people not to, they will stop – they won’t.
But I would not tell people to stop lying or tricking people even if they would listen to me – I know that sounds very sadistic and I am not a sadist as such.
I think most people get over their gullibility with time.
Lie to them a million times, make a fool out of them another million times and if they do not have that ‘mother figure’ around the corner they are bound to pick themselves up, wipe their tears and brush off their wounds themselves – and then they won’t be so gullible after all.
This is, of course, only if they are not idiots.
Idiots who are gullible are hopeless.
They should be left alone.
So lessons to be learnt:
1) If you are gullible and know so, get rid of your ‘mother figure’ (if you have one) and face your trickster yourself – you will learn from your mistakes.
2) If you are gullible and an idiot, get yourself a ‘mother figure’ as soon as possible (if you do not have one already) or stay away from almost everyone.
3) If you like playing tricks and lying, don’t do it on idiots:
- There might be a ‘mother figure’ waiting to break your bones.
- It is no fun, really, because everyone knows how simple a task it is – get somebody who is not an idiot to play your tricks on.
4) If you like playing tricks on idiots - you are a loser!
5) If somebody tells you that you are gullible but you don’t think you are, understand they have gotten away with something.
6) If you are gullible and don’t know that you are, you would not know right now either, so this lesson really does not matter.
7) If you think being gullible is cute – I have no comments.
Now you might be wondering whether I have reached that ‘zenith of enlightening others’ where I start receiving ‘requests’ from followers on subjects to enlighten – I wish it were true…
But the truth remains that you couldn’t be further from the truth.
He asked me to blog on gullibility because he thinks I am gullible.
But that does not matter as far as this post is concerned.
I am posting on gullibility not because he asked me to, it is because I could not think (at the moment) about anything else to blog about.
This post is about what I think about gullibility.
First (as always) about what the word means to me.
Gullible – I think it is a funny word.
It reminds me of gulls.
We used to have plenty of sea gulls during winter in my school back home.
I do not think gulls are gullible though.
They always make it a point to poop only on people – either on their ‘washed and neatly tied’ hair or their on ‘clean and well pressed’ uniforms.
I have never had a sea gull poop on me.
Not that my uniforms were not clean or my hair not washed.
I think it was because I was like them – not gullible.
I do not mind being gullible actually.
It serves as a nice excuse every time you make a fool out of yourself.
They can always blame those who took ‘undue advantage’ of their gullibility.
And the gullible always have some sort of a ‘mother figure’ somewhere around the corner. A friend/relative/partner who is ready to fight against the crime committed against the poor gullible soul.
I take pity on those who trick the gullible though.
They really need to get a life.
I mean, if you know a person is gullible then the fun is lost.
If you want to trick someone or play a prank choose those who are as cunning as you are, they offer much more satisfaction.
What is the point in making a fool out of a gullible person who everybody already knows is easily tricked?
I would never tell anyone not to lie or trick.
Not that if I tell people not to, they will stop – they won’t.
But I would not tell people to stop lying or tricking people even if they would listen to me – I know that sounds very sadistic and I am not a sadist as such.
I think most people get over their gullibility with time.
Lie to them a million times, make a fool out of them another million times and if they do not have that ‘mother figure’ around the corner they are bound to pick themselves up, wipe their tears and brush off their wounds themselves – and then they won’t be so gullible after all.
This is, of course, only if they are not idiots.
Idiots who are gullible are hopeless.
They should be left alone.
So lessons to be learnt:
1) If you are gullible and know so, get rid of your ‘mother figure’ (if you have one) and face your trickster yourself – you will learn from your mistakes.
2) If you are gullible and an idiot, get yourself a ‘mother figure’ as soon as possible (if you do not have one already) or stay away from almost everyone.
3) If you like playing tricks and lying, don’t do it on idiots:
- There might be a ‘mother figure’ waiting to break your bones.
- It is no fun, really, because everyone knows how simple a task it is – get somebody who is not an idiot to play your tricks on.
4) If you like playing tricks on idiots - you are a loser!
5) If somebody tells you that you are gullible but you don’t think you are, understand they have gotten away with something.
6) If you are gullible and don’t know that you are, you would not know right now either, so this lesson really does not matter.
7) If you think being gullible is cute – I have no comments.
Somethings and small nothings
I think this blog, for the past few days, has been a mirror to my multiple personality disorder! Almost every alternate post has been deep, profound and philosophical while the others have been weird and plain stupid old me.
I am not a great fan of philosophical stuff – unless I am the one writing, of course.
I mean no offence, whatsoever, to those who love reading deep and profound stuff – even I do it at times!
This post is going to be about why people tend to think ‘deep, profound and philosophical’ stuff.
People read and think about philosophical stuff when:
1) They realise how cool grey hair actually looks on people and desperately need some pronto to look intellectual and wise!
2) They realise they have grown old and still really don’t know anything about life – which nobody really does by the way.
3) They have exams coming up and have a lack of comic books to read.
4) They have exams coming up and anything other than ‘thinking’ and ‘studying’ makes them feel guilty.
5) They don’t have a life.
6) They get dumped by their friends/partner.
7) They realise they are gay/bisexual.
8) They realise their partner is gay/bisexual.
9) They realise all their friends are gay/bisexual.
10) They lose their only source of income/job.
11) Their only source of income sucks the life out of them.
12) Their boss is gay/bisexual.
13) They realise their partner has been only as faithful as they have been.
14) They realise their partner has been less faithful than they have been.
15) Their neighbour is earning more and has a better car.
16) Their neighbour’s wife/husband looks better than their partner.
17) Their neighbour is gay/bisexual and has been making advances.
18) Their neighbour is gay/bisexual and has been making advances at their partner.
19) Their child asks them if they are gay/bisexual.
20) Their child is gay/bisexual.
21) They have nothing better to write/think about other than homo/bisexuality.
I am going to stop now.
I think I lost my train of thought a long time ago.
I need to stop before causing any further damage to the readers.
I am not a great fan of philosophical stuff – unless I am the one writing, of course.
I mean no offence, whatsoever, to those who love reading deep and profound stuff – even I do it at times!
This post is going to be about why people tend to think ‘deep, profound and philosophical’ stuff.
People read and think about philosophical stuff when:
1) They realise how cool grey hair actually looks on people and desperately need some pronto to look intellectual and wise!
2) They realise they have grown old and still really don’t know anything about life – which nobody really does by the way.
3) They have exams coming up and have a lack of comic books to read.
4) They have exams coming up and anything other than ‘thinking’ and ‘studying’ makes them feel guilty.
5) They don’t have a life.
6) They get dumped by their friends/partner.
7) They realise they are gay/bisexual.
8) They realise their partner is gay/bisexual.
9) They realise all their friends are gay/bisexual.
10) They lose their only source of income/job.
11) Their only source of income sucks the life out of them.
12) Their boss is gay/bisexual.
13) They realise their partner has been only as faithful as they have been.
14) They realise their partner has been less faithful than they have been.
15) Their neighbour is earning more and has a better car.
16) Their neighbour’s wife/husband looks better than their partner.
17) Their neighbour is gay/bisexual and has been making advances.
18) Their neighbour is gay/bisexual and has been making advances at their partner.
19) Their child asks them if they are gay/bisexual.
20) Their child is gay/bisexual.
21) They have nothing better to write/think about other than homo/bisexuality.
I am going to stop now.
I think I lost my train of thought a long time ago.
I need to stop before causing any further damage to the readers.
The last kiss
I am not a person who is easily impressed.
I take pride in that.
I am a critic by birth – critical about everything including every small fault in me.
This has made me a perfectionist.
My friends say it is because I am a Virgo, I think it is because I like giving people a hard time.
I don’t like listening to new music.
I have listened to the same set of songs by Aerosmith, Nirvana, Pink Floyd, Led Zepplin and the sort since a very long time. The ‘youngest’ bands I have heard, probably, are the Goo goo dolls, 3 Doors down and Linkin Park…
Maybe this is because I get what I want from music by listening to these same songs over and over again…
A few minutes back I was listening to the song ‘Last Kiss’. It was written by Wayne Cochran and the song is more than 45 years old. There have been many versions of this song, but the one by Pearl Jam pulls a certain string deep inside somewhere, every single time I listen to it.
The lyrics are very simple, no big words, nothing metaphorical; it is plain – straight from the heart.
I have never really ‘promoted’ any movie or music in this blog so far – and I do not plan to either. Today, when I was listening to this song again for the nth time, I felt like blogging about what it means to me.
Very few people find themselves in the dreaded position of being directly/indirectly responsible for somebody’s death. Some of them might not dread it – they might have done it with intention, while the others are tormented by it.
What is worse is when that person dead is somebody you really cared for, someone you loved.
They all say the same thing:
1) It really is not your fault…
2) Maybe his/her time had come…
3) God takes away those who are dearest to Him…
4) You must move on…
5) Time will change everything…
The truth is none of them are true.
- It really is your fault – but you can’t do anything about that. Only, if you had been able to tell one last time how much you cared but you did not or you could not and it is way too late now.
- What ‘time’ are we talking about here – Why was it not ‘your time’? Why was it not ‘my time’? Why should I have been an instrument in this ‘time’ business?
- And who decides who is dearest to God?
I hate it how people make the dead sound so much like a saint when they were just like you or me. They had their faults, but those faults were not of any significance when compared to the love we had for them. They were no saints and it is not right to make them sound like someone they were not!
- It is easy to tell someone to move on. But it never happens in a second or a minute or a day or even a month. Moving on with life is so difficult; sometimes people remain scarred for life.
- Time does not change anything. You might think lesser about the dead each day but this certainly does not mean the wound does not bleed every time you think about them.
Grieving is such a difficult process sometimes one tends to wish he did not have anyone to grieve for.
Everyone knows nothing remains forever – yet we wish it does.
That is why the human race has not died out as yet – hope.
I shall become a doctor someday; I shall be responsible for a lot of lives – every single one precious to somebody.
Many a times a death signifies the end of more than one life.
P.S.: Listen to the song if you have not yet
– ‘Last Kiss’ by Pearl Jam.
Dedicated to a friend I shall forever remember,
Merlin Elizabeth Thomas (1986-2005)
I take pride in that.
I am a critic by birth – critical about everything including every small fault in me.
This has made me a perfectionist.
My friends say it is because I am a Virgo, I think it is because I like giving people a hard time.
I don’t like listening to new music.
I have listened to the same set of songs by Aerosmith, Nirvana, Pink Floyd, Led Zepplin and the sort since a very long time. The ‘youngest’ bands I have heard, probably, are the Goo goo dolls, 3 Doors down and Linkin Park…
Maybe this is because I get what I want from music by listening to these same songs over and over again…
A few minutes back I was listening to the song ‘Last Kiss’. It was written by Wayne Cochran and the song is more than 45 years old. There have been many versions of this song, but the one by Pearl Jam pulls a certain string deep inside somewhere, every single time I listen to it.
The lyrics are very simple, no big words, nothing metaphorical; it is plain – straight from the heart.
I have never really ‘promoted’ any movie or music in this blog so far – and I do not plan to either. Today, when I was listening to this song again for the nth time, I felt like blogging about what it means to me.
Very few people find themselves in the dreaded position of being directly/indirectly responsible for somebody’s death. Some of them might not dread it – they might have done it with intention, while the others are tormented by it.
What is worse is when that person dead is somebody you really cared for, someone you loved.
They all say the same thing:
1) It really is not your fault…
2) Maybe his/her time had come…
3) God takes away those who are dearest to Him…
4) You must move on…
5) Time will change everything…
The truth is none of them are true.
- It really is your fault – but you can’t do anything about that. Only, if you had been able to tell one last time how much you cared but you did not or you could not and it is way too late now.
- What ‘time’ are we talking about here – Why was it not ‘your time’? Why was it not ‘my time’? Why should I have been an instrument in this ‘time’ business?
- And who decides who is dearest to God?
I hate it how people make the dead sound so much like a saint when they were just like you or me. They had their faults, but those faults were not of any significance when compared to the love we had for them. They were no saints and it is not right to make them sound like someone they were not!
- It is easy to tell someone to move on. But it never happens in a second or a minute or a day or even a month. Moving on with life is so difficult; sometimes people remain scarred for life.
- Time does not change anything. You might think lesser about the dead each day but this certainly does not mean the wound does not bleed every time you think about them.
Grieving is such a difficult process sometimes one tends to wish he did not have anyone to grieve for.
Everyone knows nothing remains forever – yet we wish it does.
That is why the human race has not died out as yet – hope.
I shall become a doctor someday; I shall be responsible for a lot of lives – every single one precious to somebody.
Many a times a death signifies the end of more than one life.
P.S.: Listen to the song if you have not yet
– ‘Last Kiss’ by Pearl Jam.
Dedicated to a friend I shall forever remember,
Merlin Elizabeth Thomas (1986-2005)
Thursday 20 November 2008
Boredom
I think boredom is a much underrated feeling.
Everyone hates being bored.
Everyone wants to conquer boredom.
I yawn a lot, even when I am not bored (something about me being blessed with hypotension).
Currently, I am bored – meaning I have been yawning more than usual. I have been yawning every five minutes for the last five hours.
My facial muscles are aching from the over activity.
And I got around to wondering why I am bored.
1) People feel bored when they have nothing to do.
This is not the situation I am in right now.
I have my universities starting in two weeks – which means I have much more than you can ever imagine to be doing!
But I think if you belong to these people who have nothing to do, you are so damn lucky.
You can just laze around and do nothing, eat, watch people, eat some more, think how stupid people are, eat again, dream about knights/ladies in shining armours, eat some more again, go for a drive/walk/swim/whatever, eat, eat and eat…
At the end of doing everything you can do you might have a tendency to feel bored - again.
Then it is time to think of all those people who are dying to have time to kill like you do.
Those people who are dying to have five more minutes of sleep, or half an hour more to study.
That is when you realise how lucky you are to have all the time in the world for yourself, how you can do anything you want to do or do nothing at all.
And then boredom does not feel so bad at all – it does not for me at least.
2) People feel bored when they have the same thing to do, over and over again.
Now this is where I am right now.
I have just one thing to do now – study.
I have become a nocturnal creature because I can study only when people sleep.
And I tell you, there is nothing more boring than studying when people are snoring.
I pity people who have the same routine day after day.
I do not believe in a completely different day everyday – routine is good, but only to an extent.
If it is the same food on the same bench with the same person at the same time everyday then it becomes like living the same day for years and years.
There will be minor changes but the routine remains the same – life becomes less worth looking forward to, and you become bored.
This boredom is like a terminal disease.
You need treatment immediately.
And the treatment is ‘change’ and no hospital offers this treatment better than Mother Nature herself.
Do whatever you feel like doing:
- if you feel like quitting your job – do it
- if you feel like getting new friends – do it, nobody can have too many friends.
- if you feel like leaving the country, going on a holiday – do it.
Never let your life bore you because there is nothing worse than letting your life control you rather than you controlling your life.
3) People feel bored because a certain someone or something is missing.
This is seriously sad.
This affects those people whose entire life has come to revolve around just one person or one thing and when that one person or thing is no longer there (everything comes to an end eventually) then life loses meaning.
Life becomes boring.
All I have to say to these people is: ‘Get a Life!!!’
You are the most important person in your life.
And no person or thing has the right, as you do, to make your life boring!
So much for being bored.
Sometimes unexpected things come out of being bored – like this blog post!
Everyone hates being bored.
Everyone wants to conquer boredom.
I yawn a lot, even when I am not bored (something about me being blessed with hypotension).
Currently, I am bored – meaning I have been yawning more than usual. I have been yawning every five minutes for the last five hours.
My facial muscles are aching from the over activity.
And I got around to wondering why I am bored.
1) People feel bored when they have nothing to do.
This is not the situation I am in right now.
I have my universities starting in two weeks – which means I have much more than you can ever imagine to be doing!
But I think if you belong to these people who have nothing to do, you are so damn lucky.
You can just laze around and do nothing, eat, watch people, eat some more, think how stupid people are, eat again, dream about knights/ladies in shining armours, eat some more again, go for a drive/walk/swim/whatever, eat, eat and eat…
At the end of doing everything you can do you might have a tendency to feel bored - again.
Then it is time to think of all those people who are dying to have time to kill like you do.
Those people who are dying to have five more minutes of sleep, or half an hour more to study.
That is when you realise how lucky you are to have all the time in the world for yourself, how you can do anything you want to do or do nothing at all.
And then boredom does not feel so bad at all – it does not for me at least.
2) People feel bored when they have the same thing to do, over and over again.
Now this is where I am right now.
I have just one thing to do now – study.
I have become a nocturnal creature because I can study only when people sleep.
And I tell you, there is nothing more boring than studying when people are snoring.
I pity people who have the same routine day after day.
I do not believe in a completely different day everyday – routine is good, but only to an extent.
If it is the same food on the same bench with the same person at the same time everyday then it becomes like living the same day for years and years.
There will be minor changes but the routine remains the same – life becomes less worth looking forward to, and you become bored.
This boredom is like a terminal disease.
You need treatment immediately.
And the treatment is ‘change’ and no hospital offers this treatment better than Mother Nature herself.
Do whatever you feel like doing:
- if you feel like quitting your job – do it
- if you feel like getting new friends – do it, nobody can have too many friends.
- if you feel like leaving the country, going on a holiday – do it.
Never let your life bore you because there is nothing worse than letting your life control you rather than you controlling your life.
3) People feel bored because a certain someone or something is missing.
This is seriously sad.
This affects those people whose entire life has come to revolve around just one person or one thing and when that one person or thing is no longer there (everything comes to an end eventually) then life loses meaning.
Life becomes boring.
All I have to say to these people is: ‘Get a Life!!!’
You are the most important person in your life.
And no person or thing has the right, as you do, to make your life boring!
So much for being bored.
Sometimes unexpected things come out of being bored – like this blog post!
If not this then what?
I have written about how wonderful my college is in ‘fist for fun’.
I have written about how unforgettable medicine can be in ‘fingering’.
I have written about how gifted we, the medical students, are in ‘mathematics’.
This post is about my ‘career options’.
I came up with this list during the couple of months when my college had a small tiff with the Medical Council of India and decided to ‘de-recognize’ us.
During that period of time I dreamt of a life beyond this drudgery.
But, my dreams were short-lived.
I guess I will end up becoming a doctor after all.
I reached this conclusion after considering the following options:
1) Chef
I can cook – I think every glutton should know how to cook.
I love creating ‘yummy’ from ‘eww’.
The aroma of spices, the beautiful colours and the taste…
I love food.
I think I can become a wonderful chef with a tad of training and a lot of self control.
The self control is to make sure I don’t eat up everything.
And I do not believe in self-control as far as food is concerned.
So withdraw option ‘chef’.
2) Lawyer
I love proving my point of view.
I love making my bullshit seem unbelievably believable.
The only reasons I did not choose this career is because:
a) I always get caught at lying if I know I am lying.
b) I cannot imagine how they can actually learn all those horrible ‘section numbers’ and ‘articles’.
3) Author
I still want to be an author.
The only problem is I do not have anything to write about.
As of now, I have decided to write the first student-friendly, funny and interesting surgery text book (after about twenty years).
I need to come up with a nice name though – do give me suggestions.
4) Teacher
As I have already mentioned, I like the idea of sharing my bullshit.
But I know for a fact I can never become a teacher.
This is because:
a) I hate small human beings (especially ‘babies’)
b) I cannot express myself too well, as mentioned in my post ‘teacher’, my sentences have a tendency to go on forever, with a lot of punctuation.
5) House wife
I love the idea of just sitting at home and I am a cleanliness freak so I think I will make a good house wife.
But I need to earn a living.
I cannot live off pocket money for the rest of my life.
Since I hate children, I am sure I would feel lonely at home alone.
And if I do have children, being locked in the same house with them will be like living a nightmare.
Cancel option ‘house wife’ immediately.
6) Soldier
If it is anything like how they show it in the movies, I would love to become a soldier.
I am not very patriotic but I am patriotic enough.
I don’t like the idea of war though.
Anyway, if I can become a soldier, I want to become a male soldier.
Since I am not a man (as of now), I think I will have to call off this idea too.
And I am not interested in undergoing a sex change operation.
7) Saleswoman
I can be manipulating.
I am known to be manipulating.
And I can go on talking forever.
But I hate saleswomen.
They nag a lot.
8) Business woman
I guess everyone likes to make money.
My mathematics skills suck worse than that of a 5 year old though.
I cannot manage my accounts even if I had a scientific calculator.
And I am supposed to have the sort of hands in which money never stays for more than a day.
I guess business would be synonymous to bankruptcy in my case.
9) Scientist
I love their hair dos.
And I think my I.Q. is not so bad either.
But I cannot waste my life on something someone a hundred years from now will take credit for.
And I have heard scientists make boring company.
10) Journalist
I am very nosy.
I like the idea of appearing on T.V. or having my name on a newspaper.
I am good at getting people to talk.
But somehow, no offence meant to the journalists out there, I think they are always the people in the sidelines.
Most people only bother about the matter or the news, not about the person who got it.
And after watching the movie ‘Up close and personal’ I gave up the idea.
The last thing I want is to become anything like Michelle Pfeiffer.
11) Astronaut
I really want to sing two songs in space:
a) ‘What a wonderful world’ by Louis Armstrong.
b) ‘I’ve got the whole world in my hands’ a slightly modified version of the gospel song.
I have a feeling this one is slightly far fetched – even for me.
12) Preacher/Priest
I love preaching.
I think it is pretty obvious from this blog that I love preaching.
But I am not too sure about the ‘higher power’ myself.
So I wouldn’t be too good at it.
13) Magician
This idea came into being thanks to ‘The Prestige’ and ‘The Illusionist’.
And I love all those shows on AXN.
I would rather like becoming a witch than a magician – perform real magic (but I doubt its existence).
I am quite a klutz though – which rules out all possibilities of becoming a magician.
The only other profession I can think of is Medicine.
As much as it might seem to disgust people, I do love the idea of cutting up people – of course, only to make them better… (evil laugh!)
I don’t think the ‘nobility’ associated with becoming a doctor ever interested me.
I just like the idea of giving hope to the hopeless.
And there are a lot of hopeless people out there.
Dr. House made me fall in love with it more.
I am not fond of any other ‘medical T.V. shows’ though – No, not even Scrubs.
So, even though I hate the number of extremely heavy, boring and undoubtedly student ‘un-friendly’ textbooks we are supposed to learn from, I guess I have to finish two more years of this drudgery to start cutting up people.
I am pretty sure I am going to take this profession into a new dimension.
I have written about how unforgettable medicine can be in ‘fingering’.
I have written about how gifted we, the medical students, are in ‘mathematics’.
This post is about my ‘career options’.
I came up with this list during the couple of months when my college had a small tiff with the Medical Council of India and decided to ‘de-recognize’ us.
During that period of time I dreamt of a life beyond this drudgery.
But, my dreams were short-lived.
I guess I will end up becoming a doctor after all.
I reached this conclusion after considering the following options:
1) Chef
I can cook – I think every glutton should know how to cook.
I love creating ‘yummy’ from ‘eww’.
The aroma of spices, the beautiful colours and the taste…
I love food.
I think I can become a wonderful chef with a tad of training and a lot of self control.
The self control is to make sure I don’t eat up everything.
And I do not believe in self-control as far as food is concerned.
So withdraw option ‘chef’.
2) Lawyer
I love proving my point of view.
I love making my bullshit seem unbelievably believable.
The only reasons I did not choose this career is because:
a) I always get caught at lying if I know I am lying.
b) I cannot imagine how they can actually learn all those horrible ‘section numbers’ and ‘articles’.
3) Author
I still want to be an author.
The only problem is I do not have anything to write about.
As of now, I have decided to write the first student-friendly, funny and interesting surgery text book (after about twenty years).
I need to come up with a nice name though – do give me suggestions.
4) Teacher
As I have already mentioned, I like the idea of sharing my bullshit.
But I know for a fact I can never become a teacher.
This is because:
a) I hate small human beings (especially ‘babies’)
b) I cannot express myself too well, as mentioned in my post ‘teacher’, my sentences have a tendency to go on forever, with a lot of punctuation.
5) House wife
I love the idea of just sitting at home and I am a cleanliness freak so I think I will make a good house wife.
But I need to earn a living.
I cannot live off pocket money for the rest of my life.
Since I hate children, I am sure I would feel lonely at home alone.
And if I do have children, being locked in the same house with them will be like living a nightmare.
Cancel option ‘house wife’ immediately.
6) Soldier
If it is anything like how they show it in the movies, I would love to become a soldier.
I am not very patriotic but I am patriotic enough.
I don’t like the idea of war though.
Anyway, if I can become a soldier, I want to become a male soldier.
Since I am not a man (as of now), I think I will have to call off this idea too.
And I am not interested in undergoing a sex change operation.
7) Saleswoman
I can be manipulating.
I am known to be manipulating.
And I can go on talking forever.
But I hate saleswomen.
They nag a lot.
8) Business woman
I guess everyone likes to make money.
My mathematics skills suck worse than that of a 5 year old though.
I cannot manage my accounts even if I had a scientific calculator.
And I am supposed to have the sort of hands in which money never stays for more than a day.
I guess business would be synonymous to bankruptcy in my case.
9) Scientist
I love their hair dos.
And I think my I.Q. is not so bad either.
But I cannot waste my life on something someone a hundred years from now will take credit for.
And I have heard scientists make boring company.
10) Journalist
I am very nosy.
I like the idea of appearing on T.V. or having my name on a newspaper.
I am good at getting people to talk.
But somehow, no offence meant to the journalists out there, I think they are always the people in the sidelines.
Most people only bother about the matter or the news, not about the person who got it.
And after watching the movie ‘Up close and personal’ I gave up the idea.
The last thing I want is to become anything like Michelle Pfeiffer.
11) Astronaut
I really want to sing two songs in space:
a) ‘What a wonderful world’ by Louis Armstrong.
b) ‘I’ve got the whole world in my hands’ a slightly modified version of the gospel song.
I have a feeling this one is slightly far fetched – even for me.
12) Preacher/Priest
I love preaching.
I think it is pretty obvious from this blog that I love preaching.
But I am not too sure about the ‘higher power’ myself.
So I wouldn’t be too good at it.
13) Magician
This idea came into being thanks to ‘The Prestige’ and ‘The Illusionist’.
And I love all those shows on AXN.
I would rather like becoming a witch than a magician – perform real magic (but I doubt its existence).
I am quite a klutz though – which rules out all possibilities of becoming a magician.
The only other profession I can think of is Medicine.
As much as it might seem to disgust people, I do love the idea of cutting up people – of course, only to make them better… (evil laugh!)
I don’t think the ‘nobility’ associated with becoming a doctor ever interested me.
I just like the idea of giving hope to the hopeless.
And there are a lot of hopeless people out there.
Dr. House made me fall in love with it more.
I am not fond of any other ‘medical T.V. shows’ though – No, not even Scrubs.
So, even though I hate the number of extremely heavy, boring and undoubtedly student ‘un-friendly’ textbooks we are supposed to learn from, I guess I have to finish two more years of this drudgery to start cutting up people.
I am pretty sure I am going to take this profession into a new dimension.
The designer
I was just reading my blog (I do that at times – helps refresh the enlightened status) and I realised how serious my posts have become, other that the Ally again post.
My blog is literally screaming for change.
This post is about my first serious thoughts about committing murder.
As you all may know by now from the posts ‘the beginning…’, ‘licking ass’ and ‘my middle finger’ I was the college editor last year (unfortunately).
From day one, the only task I did not look forward to was the college magazine.
But the tasks you seem to run away from always seem to get to you faster.
It began with the hunt for a designer who was:
- within Mangalore.
- ready to take orders from me and do things as I say.
- ready to offer quality work dirt cheap.
It was quite an impossible task.
But we found someone in no time, let us call him X – I should have been suspicious then but my belief in the goodness of humanity got the better of me.
A colleague from the editorial board accompanied me during our first meeting about the budget and other boring stuff.
I hate to admit this – but I liked X then (maybe because he offered us stuff to eat).
We spent one month brainstorming – at the end of which we were quite satisfied at how things were going according to plan.
The next month was for designing and printing – it was May 2008.
Undoubtedly, this was by far the worst and the best month of my life so far.
It was the best because adversity is known to bring the strangest of people together in a funny bond called friendship.
It was the worst because of the adversity – X.
Now I shall list out the reasons why I forever shall hate this man:
1) He made me miss my meals.
2) He is a male chauvinist.
3) He enjoyed making fun of me in Kannada unaware of the fact that I understand bits and pieces.
4) He made me cranky at everyone.
5) He made me scream at his nice assistant every day.
6) He was forever coochie-cooing with his wife/girl friend/boy friend/whatever.
7) His mobile had an irritating ring tone.
8) His mobile rang whenever I was trying to explain to him some detail.
9) His fifteen minutes equals 4 hours.
10) He always told he would be back in fifteen minutes.
11) His ‘tea-breaks’ went on forever.
12) He worked for barely twenty minutes in the 5 hours we used to spend daily in his dinghy office.
13) He felt my cutting classes and missing attendance was insignificant enough for him to go for ‘fifteen minute’ breaks.
14) He blamed us for not getting the matter on time.
15) He worked fast but his work was horrible unless we spelled out each and every detail of the designing.
16) He loved the word tomorrow.
17) He was superstitious about working on certain days of the week.
18) He took days off to celebrate ‘his’ political party’s victory.
19) He used to treat me like I am the one being paid and not the one paying.
20) He knew we needed his work badly and made complete use of it.
21) He saw our magazine as an opportunity for his accounts manager to improve upon his designing skills.
22) He found it very difficult to understand the word ‘now’.
23) He was responsible for many among the editorial board members failing in our first internals.
24) His fifteen days for printing went on to become more than a month.
25) He scrapped our ideas without letting us know about it.
26) He made me an insomniac for more than a month.
27) There were days when I walked more than 2kms back and forth from the place because the walk used to calm me down.
28) He thought his warts were some sort of luck.
29) He was the laziest man on Earth.
30) We had to pay him almost three lakhs for our blood, sweat and tears – the only consolation being at least it is not our money.
At the end of two months and just after we had given the magazine for printing we came up with the idea of murdering him.
The plan was to hire an assassin with the money from the fund.
We dropped the plan because we needed the magazines.
I harbour the dream of breaking all his bones till this day.
My blog is literally screaming for change.
This post is about my first serious thoughts about committing murder.
As you all may know by now from the posts ‘the beginning…’, ‘licking ass’ and ‘my middle finger’ I was the college editor last year (unfortunately).
From day one, the only task I did not look forward to was the college magazine.
But the tasks you seem to run away from always seem to get to you faster.
It began with the hunt for a designer who was:
- within Mangalore.
- ready to take orders from me and do things as I say.
- ready to offer quality work dirt cheap.
It was quite an impossible task.
But we found someone in no time, let us call him X – I should have been suspicious then but my belief in the goodness of humanity got the better of me.
A colleague from the editorial board accompanied me during our first meeting about the budget and other boring stuff.
I hate to admit this – but I liked X then (maybe because he offered us stuff to eat).
We spent one month brainstorming – at the end of which we were quite satisfied at how things were going according to plan.
The next month was for designing and printing – it was May 2008.
Undoubtedly, this was by far the worst and the best month of my life so far.
It was the best because adversity is known to bring the strangest of people together in a funny bond called friendship.
It was the worst because of the adversity – X.
Now I shall list out the reasons why I forever shall hate this man:
1) He made me miss my meals.
2) He is a male chauvinist.
3) He enjoyed making fun of me in Kannada unaware of the fact that I understand bits and pieces.
4) He made me cranky at everyone.
5) He made me scream at his nice assistant every day.
6) He was forever coochie-cooing with his wife/girl friend/boy friend/whatever.
7) His mobile had an irritating ring tone.
8) His mobile rang whenever I was trying to explain to him some detail.
9) His fifteen minutes equals 4 hours.
10) He always told he would be back in fifteen minutes.
11) His ‘tea-breaks’ went on forever.
12) He worked for barely twenty minutes in the 5 hours we used to spend daily in his dinghy office.
13) He felt my cutting classes and missing attendance was insignificant enough for him to go for ‘fifteen minute’ breaks.
14) He blamed us for not getting the matter on time.
15) He worked fast but his work was horrible unless we spelled out each and every detail of the designing.
16) He loved the word tomorrow.
17) He was superstitious about working on certain days of the week.
18) He took days off to celebrate ‘his’ political party’s victory.
19) He used to treat me like I am the one being paid and not the one paying.
20) He knew we needed his work badly and made complete use of it.
21) He saw our magazine as an opportunity for his accounts manager to improve upon his designing skills.
22) He found it very difficult to understand the word ‘now’.
23) He was responsible for many among the editorial board members failing in our first internals.
24) His fifteen days for printing went on to become more than a month.
25) He scrapped our ideas without letting us know about it.
26) He made me an insomniac for more than a month.
27) There were days when I walked more than 2kms back and forth from the place because the walk used to calm me down.
28) He thought his warts were some sort of luck.
29) He was the laziest man on Earth.
30) We had to pay him almost three lakhs for our blood, sweat and tears – the only consolation being at least it is not our money.
At the end of two months and just after we had given the magazine for printing we came up with the idea of murdering him.
The plan was to hire an assassin with the money from the fund.
We dropped the plan because we needed the magazines.
I harbour the dream of breaking all his bones till this day.
Wednesday 19 November 2008
Madness
Veronica decides to die.
It is a beautiful book by Paulo Coelho.
This book has inspired me to write this post.
It is amazing how we consider madness as being strange when being mad is as simple as being one’s true self.
I love the way Coelho explains how being mad is just believing in one’s own world and not being able to express it satisfyingly to others.
It made me think because the truth, stark naked, is so shocking.
No person, neither you nor I have the right to question one’s belief.
And when one cannot express what he believes in with words that make sense to us, we call them mad.
When we do not believe in what they believe, we consider the majority to be normal and label the minority as mad.
Just because the majority suppresses themselves and the minority does not.
Does believing in God certify to be called madness?
Does feeling God certify to be called madness?
Does feeling a person who nobody other than you can see certify to be called madness?
It is funny how thin the line between being normal and being called mad is.
I wonder if there is a line.
We have to mould ourselves every second of everyday just to look normal according to some set of social norms that almost everyone despises.
Are we not all hypocrites?
How many of us have done everything we have felt like doing with no restrictions whatsoever – none of us.
And if any of us have dared to, I am sure the person would be termed as being mad.
The price we have to pay for appearing normal, the price we have to pay for not being labelled as mad is to curb our feelings and desires – to go against the one thing we might believe in.
And this makes us no different from hypocrites.
It is funny how people keep telling how they ‘hate’ hypocrites and there is nothing worse than hypocrisy and being someone you are not.
The truth being, everyone is a hypocrite – nobody is what he/she appears to be.
Every single person has hidden desires and dreams.
Every single person has a hidden world of fantasy where he can do as he pleases.
Every single person dreams of a place where he is not bound by rules.
But few realise that what they are asking for is as simple as being mad – as being themselves for once in their lifetime.
I respect those who are labelled as mad – because they have the courage to be what they are. They are not hiding.
They believe in something which is true for them – who are we to question their truth?
Every person is mad – I know that may sound funny to you but it is not funny for those who have been through hell after being labelled ‘mad’.
Why are they made to suffer for it while we are not?
Is it because we know how to curb our desires?
Is it because we are hypocrites?
‘Madness’ is such a relative term – it is just not right to treat it with brutality, it is not right to treat it at all.
If it were not for these so called ‘mad’ men we would not have some of the most beautiful pieces of art, some of the most heavenly pieces of music, some of the most astounding facts called science.
Just because we do not believe in something they do, does not make them mad.
The question of being in a majority or minority should not arise here.
I would rather be labelled as ‘mad’ than become a ‘hypocrite’.
It is a beautiful book by Paulo Coelho.
This book has inspired me to write this post.
It is amazing how we consider madness as being strange when being mad is as simple as being one’s true self.
I love the way Coelho explains how being mad is just believing in one’s own world and not being able to express it satisfyingly to others.
It made me think because the truth, stark naked, is so shocking.
No person, neither you nor I have the right to question one’s belief.
And when one cannot express what he believes in with words that make sense to us, we call them mad.
When we do not believe in what they believe, we consider the majority to be normal and label the minority as mad.
Just because the majority suppresses themselves and the minority does not.
Does believing in God certify to be called madness?
Does feeling God certify to be called madness?
Does feeling a person who nobody other than you can see certify to be called madness?
It is funny how thin the line between being normal and being called mad is.
I wonder if there is a line.
We have to mould ourselves every second of everyday just to look normal according to some set of social norms that almost everyone despises.
Are we not all hypocrites?
How many of us have done everything we have felt like doing with no restrictions whatsoever – none of us.
And if any of us have dared to, I am sure the person would be termed as being mad.
The price we have to pay for appearing normal, the price we have to pay for not being labelled as mad is to curb our feelings and desires – to go against the one thing we might believe in.
And this makes us no different from hypocrites.
It is funny how people keep telling how they ‘hate’ hypocrites and there is nothing worse than hypocrisy and being someone you are not.
The truth being, everyone is a hypocrite – nobody is what he/she appears to be.
Every single person has hidden desires and dreams.
Every single person has a hidden world of fantasy where he can do as he pleases.
Every single person dreams of a place where he is not bound by rules.
But few realise that what they are asking for is as simple as being mad – as being themselves for once in their lifetime.
I respect those who are labelled as mad – because they have the courage to be what they are. They are not hiding.
They believe in something which is true for them – who are we to question their truth?
Every person is mad – I know that may sound funny to you but it is not funny for those who have been through hell after being labelled ‘mad’.
Why are they made to suffer for it while we are not?
Is it because we know how to curb our desires?
Is it because we are hypocrites?
‘Madness’ is such a relative term – it is just not right to treat it with brutality, it is not right to treat it at all.
If it were not for these so called ‘mad’ men we would not have some of the most beautiful pieces of art, some of the most heavenly pieces of music, some of the most astounding facts called science.
Just because we do not believe in something they do, does not make them mad.
The question of being in a majority or minority should not arise here.
I would rather be labelled as ‘mad’ than become a ‘hypocrite’.
Ignoring ignorance
I do not believe ignorance as being bliss.
At least at this point in my life, at this very moment; I do not believe so.
Ignorance can never be bliss.
Knowledge is the path of truth.
Truth makes one free.
Freedom is heaven.
Hence knowledge is the path to heaven.
If knowledge is the path to heaven how can ignorance be bliss?
If this were to be true knowledge is supposed to lead to ignorance – which is definitely false.
Ignorance may, however, lead one to believe in experiencing a state of false bliss.
But if it is false then it is temporary.
It is temporary because the truth always prevails.
And if it is temporary bliss is not bliss after all.
There is only one thing that frustrates me more than ignorance.
It is ignoring ignorance.
Only the ignorant ignore ignorance.
And what is worse is the ignorant consider themselves not ignorant.
They actually think what they rant about is right even when they are effectively told otherwise. And there are always other ignorant ones who support their kin.
It is a brotherhood stronger than many known – the brotherhood of the ignorant fools.
The first step towards being not ignorant is accepting that you are ignorant.
And then you move on to wisdom – bit by bit.
So in reality there is only one form of absolute ignorance and that is ignoring ignorance.
Absolute ignorance is in believing that you are not in the slightest bit ignorant at all.
Nobody is all knowing except Him (if you do believe in Him).
And as long as nobody is ‘all knowing’ it stands to reason that everyone is ignorant about something or the other.
It is true I have quoted myself as being enlightened many a times in this blog. But enlightenment does not mean reaching a state of being ‘all-knowing’.
It merely means knowing about something – anything.
I maybe enlightened on the origin of the universe.
I maybe enlightened on the purpose of life.
I maybe enlightened on how to tie shoe laces.
The ultimate enlightenment is never procured.
Because when you do obtain that level of enlightenment you understand how little you actually do know.
Do not ignore the ignorant.
It may be frustrating to bring them on the path to enlightenment.
They may be adamant about their knowledge being far superior to that of yours.
They may question every bit of knowledge you have obtained with much a lot of difficulty.
They may not treat your wisdom with reverence, they may even mock your being knowledgeable.
They will, for sure, question it.
But you must know that is why they are the ignorant.
To conclude, I repeat what is written right below the title of my blog.
I am not all knowing as the less knowing claim.
I only know more than everyone else.
At least at this point in my life, at this very moment; I do not believe so.
Ignorance can never be bliss.
Knowledge is the path of truth.
Truth makes one free.
Freedom is heaven.
Hence knowledge is the path to heaven.
If knowledge is the path to heaven how can ignorance be bliss?
If this were to be true knowledge is supposed to lead to ignorance – which is definitely false.
Ignorance may, however, lead one to believe in experiencing a state of false bliss.
But if it is false then it is temporary.
It is temporary because the truth always prevails.
And if it is temporary bliss is not bliss after all.
There is only one thing that frustrates me more than ignorance.
It is ignoring ignorance.
Only the ignorant ignore ignorance.
And what is worse is the ignorant consider themselves not ignorant.
They actually think what they rant about is right even when they are effectively told otherwise. And there are always other ignorant ones who support their kin.
It is a brotherhood stronger than many known – the brotherhood of the ignorant fools.
The first step towards being not ignorant is accepting that you are ignorant.
And then you move on to wisdom – bit by bit.
So in reality there is only one form of absolute ignorance and that is ignoring ignorance.
Absolute ignorance is in believing that you are not in the slightest bit ignorant at all.
Nobody is all knowing except Him (if you do believe in Him).
And as long as nobody is ‘all knowing’ it stands to reason that everyone is ignorant about something or the other.
It is true I have quoted myself as being enlightened many a times in this blog. But enlightenment does not mean reaching a state of being ‘all-knowing’.
It merely means knowing about something – anything.
I maybe enlightened on the origin of the universe.
I maybe enlightened on the purpose of life.
I maybe enlightened on how to tie shoe laces.
The ultimate enlightenment is never procured.
Because when you do obtain that level of enlightenment you understand how little you actually do know.
Do not ignore the ignorant.
It may be frustrating to bring them on the path to enlightenment.
They may be adamant about their knowledge being far superior to that of yours.
They may question every bit of knowledge you have obtained with much a lot of difficulty.
They may not treat your wisdom with reverence, they may even mock your being knowledgeable.
They will, for sure, question it.
But you must know that is why they are the ignorant.
To conclude, I repeat what is written right below the title of my blog.
I am not all knowing as the less knowing claim.
I only know more than everyone else.
Tuesday 18 November 2008
It's Ally again!
Seems like people love reading how weird I am.
The awesome response to my last post on 'My Ally McBeal moments' has led me to post some more.
So here goes.
These moments however are quite original as the hallucinations have never been featured in any Ally McBeal episode I know of.
1) Hammering
This happened sometime in the beginning of this year.
I do not remember which month exactly – but I do remember I was under a lot of stress at the time.
I had a deadline to meet for the magazine publishing and time seemed to flying.
The designer (I shall post about him soon) was giving me a very tough time.
I slept for only about three to four hours a day.
And the ultimate ‘stress factor’ was me not eating much thanks to lack of time.
I had my medicine clinical postings going on.
For those of you who do not know – medicine posting is one of the most trying postings and I am not too fond of how boring it gets at times.
We were supposed to present cases everyday to a professor who would then discuss the case – sometimes at length and sometimes in brief.
On this particular day I was extremely cranky.
The only reason I attended posting was because the professor who was supposed to take class for us was known to finish it off quickly and let us be.
I reached posting at nine fifteen – I had gone to sleep at around five thirty.
No breakfast as usual.
The case was taken by some irritating ‘know-it-all’ the previous evening (talk about heights of joblessness!). It was a pretty straight forward case with no complications and not much discussion required.
The professor arrived at eleven.
I was fuming.
The case presentation seemed to go on forever with the professor interrupting at the end of every word of every sentence.
The presentation came to an end at noon.
The professor discussed the case for another fifteen minutes and then took the attendance register.
And that was when ‘Mr I-am-so-curious-to-know-crap’ asked a doubt… and then another… and then another.
It happened.
I got a humongous bright yellow hammer from nowhere and I started hammering ‘Mr I-am-so-curious-to-know-crap’ with all the strength I could muster. The ground started giving away and I kept hammering him into the depths of some sort of molten earth underneath.
The next thing I know I feel faint.
I guess all the hammering made me tired.
I steady myself on the patient’s bed and tell the professor I am not feeling too well.
Attendance was taken and the class was adjourned.
And believe it or not - ‘Mr I-am-so-curious-to-know-crap’ was blasting away his doubts even after the class was over.
I pity the professor.
2) Diced balls
I have nothing against men.
I have nothing against single men flirting in good faith either.
But when the flirting becomes uncivilised, it is unbearable.
This happened two weeks back during my exams.
There is this certain post graduate who has a reputation of flirting with all the female students posted in the same unit as his.
I was posted in his unit.
This post graduate is nothing short of being a ‘dickhead’ as in he does not have a brain, only a dick. His eyes are always fixed at a point much lower than the face of the female he is talking to. He walks in a very well planned manner so as to brush past every female’s body. He, in short, is like almost every other man – except he does what he thinks and gets caught at it every single time.
I hated him from the very first ‘encounter’ and have been quite successfully trying to avoid him since then.
This was until he came for invigilation during our exams.
Two hours into the exam and I needed an extra sheet.
He gives it to me looking at the same fixed point.
Dickhead.
I ask for another sheet.
Same fixed point again.
Double dickhead.
Most of the post graduates were ‘helping’ students who asked for ‘help’ during the exam. Some of them were writing down answers for them.
I would rather die than ask him!
I ask for another sheet – now I would like to point out that I am very good at writing ‘nothing’ in a lot of words and also my hand writing is very spaced out, hence so many extra sheets. It is not because I know much.
He hands over the sheet.
He leans forward.
I lean backward.
He asks me if I need any help with an extremely disgusting smile on his face.
And then it began.
I had two of those extremely sharp but tiny knives with me.
I did some extremely complex and inexplicable movements with my hands.
I dropped the knives and picked up a small porcelain bowl which was on my exam table – all within nanoseconds.
I made sure every diced piece of his external genitalia (which was now in air) fell into the porcelain bowl and handed it to him with a smile.
Bon appetit.
He asked me again if I needed any help.
I croaked out a no even though I really could have used some help.
There are moments in life when you wish you had the power to make hallucinations real – I experienced that moment then.
That is all for now.
Do comment and let me know if you have had any similar experiences.
I will post more soon – but for now this should quench your thirst for weird stuff.
The awesome response to my last post on 'My Ally McBeal moments' has led me to post some more.
So here goes.
These moments however are quite original as the hallucinations have never been featured in any Ally McBeal episode I know of.
1) Hammering
This happened sometime in the beginning of this year.
I do not remember which month exactly – but I do remember I was under a lot of stress at the time.
I had a deadline to meet for the magazine publishing and time seemed to flying.
The designer (I shall post about him soon) was giving me a very tough time.
I slept for only about three to four hours a day.
And the ultimate ‘stress factor’ was me not eating much thanks to lack of time.
I had my medicine clinical postings going on.
For those of you who do not know – medicine posting is one of the most trying postings and I am not too fond of how boring it gets at times.
We were supposed to present cases everyday to a professor who would then discuss the case – sometimes at length and sometimes in brief.
On this particular day I was extremely cranky.
The only reason I attended posting was because the professor who was supposed to take class for us was known to finish it off quickly and let us be.
I reached posting at nine fifteen – I had gone to sleep at around five thirty.
No breakfast as usual.
The case was taken by some irritating ‘know-it-all’ the previous evening (talk about heights of joblessness!). It was a pretty straight forward case with no complications and not much discussion required.
The professor arrived at eleven.
I was fuming.
The case presentation seemed to go on forever with the professor interrupting at the end of every word of every sentence.
The presentation came to an end at noon.
The professor discussed the case for another fifteen minutes and then took the attendance register.
And that was when ‘Mr I-am-so-curious-to-know-crap’ asked a doubt… and then another… and then another.
It happened.
I got a humongous bright yellow hammer from nowhere and I started hammering ‘Mr I-am-so-curious-to-know-crap’ with all the strength I could muster. The ground started giving away and I kept hammering him into the depths of some sort of molten earth underneath.
The next thing I know I feel faint.
I guess all the hammering made me tired.
I steady myself on the patient’s bed and tell the professor I am not feeling too well.
Attendance was taken and the class was adjourned.
And believe it or not - ‘Mr I-am-so-curious-to-know-crap’ was blasting away his doubts even after the class was over.
I pity the professor.
2) Diced balls
I have nothing against men.
I have nothing against single men flirting in good faith either.
But when the flirting becomes uncivilised, it is unbearable.
This happened two weeks back during my exams.
There is this certain post graduate who has a reputation of flirting with all the female students posted in the same unit as his.
I was posted in his unit.
This post graduate is nothing short of being a ‘dickhead’ as in he does not have a brain, only a dick. His eyes are always fixed at a point much lower than the face of the female he is talking to. He walks in a very well planned manner so as to brush past every female’s body. He, in short, is like almost every other man – except he does what he thinks and gets caught at it every single time.
I hated him from the very first ‘encounter’ and have been quite successfully trying to avoid him since then.
This was until he came for invigilation during our exams.
Two hours into the exam and I needed an extra sheet.
He gives it to me looking at the same fixed point.
Dickhead.
I ask for another sheet.
Same fixed point again.
Double dickhead.
Most of the post graduates were ‘helping’ students who asked for ‘help’ during the exam. Some of them were writing down answers for them.
I would rather die than ask him!
I ask for another sheet – now I would like to point out that I am very good at writing ‘nothing’ in a lot of words and also my hand writing is very spaced out, hence so many extra sheets. It is not because I know much.
He hands over the sheet.
He leans forward.
I lean backward.
He asks me if I need any help with an extremely disgusting smile on his face.
And then it began.
I had two of those extremely sharp but tiny knives with me.
I did some extremely complex and inexplicable movements with my hands.
I dropped the knives and picked up a small porcelain bowl which was on my exam table – all within nanoseconds.
I made sure every diced piece of his external genitalia (which was now in air) fell into the porcelain bowl and handed it to him with a smile.
Bon appetit.
He asked me again if I needed any help.
I croaked out a no even though I really could have used some help.
There are moments in life when you wish you had the power to make hallucinations real – I experienced that moment then.
That is all for now.
Do comment and let me know if you have had any similar experiences.
I will post more soon – but for now this should quench your thirst for weird stuff.
Minding the mind
The mind is a beautiful piece of art – like a painting.
I compare the mind to a painting after much thought.
It is difficult to compare something as deep and profound as the mind to anything, yet somehow, a painting seems to be almost perfect in its similarity.
Mixtures of a definite set of colours make millions of colours come alive in a painting. And little dabs of these million colours make what is a beautiful (if done with care) representation of reality or imagination. But the essence of a painting can never be understood by merely looking at what is seen, there are always hidden meanings – which make them mysterious and appealing.
Mixtures of a definite set of emotions make millions of feelings come alive in a mind. And little actions resulting from these million feelings make what is a beautiful (if done with care) representation of life as we know it to be. But the essence of the mind can never be understood by merely looking at what is shown; there are always hidden meanings – which make them mysterious and appealing.
Very few understand the true potential of the mind. More often than always it is let free – which supposedly facilitates the inclusion of new dimensions in life.
This couldn’t be further from the truth.
The mind is a weapon far superior to any weapon known to mankind.
If it is untamed it may act in or against our favour.
But if tamed it always acts in our favour.
A person who can tame his mind is someone who can acquire anything in this world.
A tamed mind can make you feel whenever you have to or want to feel.
A tamed mind can make you completely different people by choice.
A tamed mind is like a treasure which can never be opened – a treasure none who try can completely fathom.
Imagine feeling happy whenever you wanted to feel happy – no matter what circumstances you may find yourself in.
Imagine feeling aroused whenever you wanted to – without provocation of any sort.
Imagine understanding each and every action of yours with utmost clarity and defining it in advance removing any possibility of regret.
That is what a tamed mind can achieve.
It is control.
A tamed mind is control over oneself to feel as he pleases, to be whoever he wants to be, to never be completely understood by anyone but himself – because no two people can have the same mind.
Having multiple personality disorder is like a tamed mind gone wrong because having different personalities is suggestive of superiority of the mind.
But to control these personalities and to have them segregated according to time, place and person is the characteristic of a mind which is in control of its state of being superior.
Tame your mind -
Think before you mix those definite set of emotions.
Think before those millions of feelings are generated.
Think before acting on those feelings.
Think before your actions make your life.
Think about what you think.
The tamed mind is far superior to any emotion, feeling or action – it is superior to life.
Try to feel what you feel – so that you can feel it whenever you feel like feeling.
The mind is a beautiful instrument.
Understand yours before trying to figure out others'.
I compare the mind to a painting after much thought.
It is difficult to compare something as deep and profound as the mind to anything, yet somehow, a painting seems to be almost perfect in its similarity.
Mixtures of a definite set of colours make millions of colours come alive in a painting. And little dabs of these million colours make what is a beautiful (if done with care) representation of reality or imagination. But the essence of a painting can never be understood by merely looking at what is seen, there are always hidden meanings – which make them mysterious and appealing.
Mixtures of a definite set of emotions make millions of feelings come alive in a mind. And little actions resulting from these million feelings make what is a beautiful (if done with care) representation of life as we know it to be. But the essence of the mind can never be understood by merely looking at what is shown; there are always hidden meanings – which make them mysterious and appealing.
Very few understand the true potential of the mind. More often than always it is let free – which supposedly facilitates the inclusion of new dimensions in life.
This couldn’t be further from the truth.
The mind is a weapon far superior to any weapon known to mankind.
If it is untamed it may act in or against our favour.
But if tamed it always acts in our favour.
A person who can tame his mind is someone who can acquire anything in this world.
A tamed mind can make you feel whenever you have to or want to feel.
A tamed mind can make you completely different people by choice.
A tamed mind is like a treasure which can never be opened – a treasure none who try can completely fathom.
Imagine feeling happy whenever you wanted to feel happy – no matter what circumstances you may find yourself in.
Imagine feeling aroused whenever you wanted to – without provocation of any sort.
Imagine understanding each and every action of yours with utmost clarity and defining it in advance removing any possibility of regret.
That is what a tamed mind can achieve.
It is control.
A tamed mind is control over oneself to feel as he pleases, to be whoever he wants to be, to never be completely understood by anyone but himself – because no two people can have the same mind.
Having multiple personality disorder is like a tamed mind gone wrong because having different personalities is suggestive of superiority of the mind.
But to control these personalities and to have them segregated according to time, place and person is the characteristic of a mind which is in control of its state of being superior.
Tame your mind -
Think before you mix those definite set of emotions.
Think before those millions of feelings are generated.
Think before acting on those feelings.
Think before your actions make your life.
Think about what you think.
The tamed mind is far superior to any emotion, feeling or action – it is superior to life.
Try to feel what you feel – so that you can feel it whenever you feel like feeling.
The mind is a beautiful instrument.
Understand yours before trying to figure out others'.
Saturday 15 November 2008
Two-timing
I know what two timing conventionally means.
Here I am not referring to the same.
For the past few days – during and after my internal exams I have come to feel the compelling need for having more than 24 hours a day.
I keep lamenting about how things would be so much better if I had one hour more or maybe a couple of hours more.
After much thought I have realised time management does not work – ever.
What would work in its place would be what I call ‘two timing’ or ‘split timing’.
If we could be at different situations at the same time then we would have time for everything!!!
I think Hermione did something of this sort to attend two different classes at the same time in Harry Potter – now that I would call a complete waste of the awesome ability to split time.
If I could split time I would always make the ‘sleepy me’ stay in class while the ‘whacky me’ can go to the beach or party.
And this would particularly come to use at that last one hour before exam (those who are into ‘only the day before’ studying will totally understand).
Split the time and voila! You can have as many hours as you want – since you can split time more than once.
I (at times) am not a selfish person so I have thought about how it can help others too!
- A new mother can put this good use – she can take care of her baby herself and go to work and kick her husband’s ass at earning more at the same time.
- Newly weds can have extended honeymoons and enjoy their new ‘life’ partners while splitting time going for work and earning money to file a divorce.
- The few special people out there, who are extremely talented (like me), a ‘king/queen of all trades’ can pursue more than one career and become millionaires.
So it is a win-win situation for everybody and I bet there are plenty of people out there who dream of this ‘split timing’ just as I do.
Now the question is how can we split time?
We can only if we knew how to.
I have the solution to that too
– am I not awesome?! (Only affirmative responses allowed)
The solution to discovering how to split time is to ‘work towards it’ – bet you did not know that!
If we all join hands and make it our sole purpose in life there is nothing that can stand in our way to finding this solution.
So I think everyone should give up doing whatever it is they are doing because whatever it is they are doing does not seem to be helping much in the search for the answer to the only question that really matters - ‘how to split time’.
Together we can.
Yes, we can!
Here I am not referring to the same.
For the past few days – during and after my internal exams I have come to feel the compelling need for having more than 24 hours a day.
I keep lamenting about how things would be so much better if I had one hour more or maybe a couple of hours more.
After much thought I have realised time management does not work – ever.
What would work in its place would be what I call ‘two timing’ or ‘split timing’.
If we could be at different situations at the same time then we would have time for everything!!!
I think Hermione did something of this sort to attend two different classes at the same time in Harry Potter – now that I would call a complete waste of the awesome ability to split time.
If I could split time I would always make the ‘sleepy me’ stay in class while the ‘whacky me’ can go to the beach or party.
And this would particularly come to use at that last one hour before exam (those who are into ‘only the day before’ studying will totally understand).
Split the time and voila! You can have as many hours as you want – since you can split time more than once.
I (at times) am not a selfish person so I have thought about how it can help others too!
- A new mother can put this good use – she can take care of her baby herself and go to work and kick her husband’s ass at earning more at the same time.
- Newly weds can have extended honeymoons and enjoy their new ‘life’ partners while splitting time going for work and earning money to file a divorce.
- The few special people out there, who are extremely talented (like me), a ‘king/queen of all trades’ can pursue more than one career and become millionaires.
So it is a win-win situation for everybody and I bet there are plenty of people out there who dream of this ‘split timing’ just as I do.
Now the question is how can we split time?
We can only if we knew how to.
I have the solution to that too
– am I not awesome?! (Only affirmative responses allowed)
The solution to discovering how to split time is to ‘work towards it’ – bet you did not know that!
If we all join hands and make it our sole purpose in life there is nothing that can stand in our way to finding this solution.
So I think everyone should give up doing whatever it is they are doing because whatever it is they are doing does not seem to be helping much in the search for the answer to the only question that really matters - ‘how to split time’.
Together we can.
Yes, we can!
Thursday 13 November 2008
Going bald
Bald is good.
I am not too fond of my hair.
I know of many people who think my hair is so ‘lively’ and ‘thick’.
I think it is a messy load of unruly keratin fibres.
I have always hated the idea of growing my hair long.
I mean it is nice to look at – but who wants to manage it?!
And here I am now trying (quite unsuccessfully) to grow my unruly hooligan keratin fibres for God alone knows whose benefit.
The last time I had to grow my hair was for my sister’s wedding.
This was because I was supposed to look like a girl – which I apparently did not.
Every one of my ‘grey haired’ relatives thinks having short hair is the same as undergoing a sex change operation.
According to them short hair can mean only one thing – Man.
I tell you – women of yesterday’s era have not had enough exposure to what is down there.
There is more to being a woman than having long hair!
There are other ‘things’ that speak of our feminine nature in a bolder voice.
Why don’t people just be bothered about those ‘things’?
Leave the hair alone!
According to the grapevine, only prostitutes and widows shaved their heads. And I shaving my head might lead myself to be mistaken for belonging to one of among the above mentioned ‘groups of people’.
This is hilarious.
Prostitutes were made to shave their heads as a punishment to the sinful life they have chosen – but today prostitutes live a life only as sinful as almost every Tom, Dick and Harry. The only difference being they earn for their ways of living.
I have not come across many prostitutes in my life but I doubt many of them have shaved heads nowadays.
I have no idea why widows were made to shave their heads – maybe some form of displaying their sorrow – weird!
And as far as being mistaken for a widow is concerned – it is a chance I am prepared to take.
I have always wanted to go bald – shave my head.
I always wanted to have a shiny head.
A head that can actually feel rain drops falling on them.
I had decided to have it done after my school years.
But then my mother and sisters manipulated me into believing that I would look terrible – now that I think of it I really do not understand where from ‘looks’ came into question!
I keep managing to chop off more and more each time I get a ‘new look’. The last one was one step short of shaving my head.
That implies this time I have got to do it.
I think it is pretty strange girls do not feel like shaving their heads around here.
The climate is so humid and sticky.
If I were born here I would have always had a bald head.
I mentioned shaving my head to one of my friends a couple of days back and her response made me think.
She told me to go ahead but to keep two things in mind:
1) My university exams are coming up and we have professors from medical colleges all over south India coming to evaluate our intellectual prowess. Unfortunately, these fools who do not know much tend to pass judgements based on appearances. And a bald headed girl with a nose piercing and multi coloured contact lenses is not what they classify under the ‘smart ones’ rather I would be classified under the ‘totally weird and waste of time’ category which is synonymous to ‘fail without question’ category. So wait till after the universities.
2) People are jobless. They love finding stuff to gossip/bitch/make up stories about – this is especially true in college. After Britney shaved her head and some bird brained actresses changed their hairstyles to get a different look – shaving one’s head has come to mean ‘failed relationship status leading to depression and low self esteem’.
This could not be further from the truth because:
a) I am not in any sort of relationship for it to fail.
b) If there was ‘a relationship’ I would be more than happy to end it and hence would never be depressed.
c) Nothing and nobody can bring upon me a low self esteem. If there is any person on earth who truly thinks she is awesome – it is me – and this stands to good reasoning too.
So here I am – frustrated.
Frustrated because I cannot do what I want to.
Jobless people and stuck-up professors have started deciding what I do with my life.
I wonder where I went wrong.
Should I just go shave my head and not give a damn?
I am not too fond of my hair.
I know of many people who think my hair is so ‘lively’ and ‘thick’.
I think it is a messy load of unruly keratin fibres.
I have always hated the idea of growing my hair long.
I mean it is nice to look at – but who wants to manage it?!
And here I am now trying (quite unsuccessfully) to grow my unruly hooligan keratin fibres for God alone knows whose benefit.
The last time I had to grow my hair was for my sister’s wedding.
This was because I was supposed to look like a girl – which I apparently did not.
Every one of my ‘grey haired’ relatives thinks having short hair is the same as undergoing a sex change operation.
According to them short hair can mean only one thing – Man.
I tell you – women of yesterday’s era have not had enough exposure to what is down there.
There is more to being a woman than having long hair!
There are other ‘things’ that speak of our feminine nature in a bolder voice.
Why don’t people just be bothered about those ‘things’?
Leave the hair alone!
According to the grapevine, only prostitutes and widows shaved their heads. And I shaving my head might lead myself to be mistaken for belonging to one of among the above mentioned ‘groups of people’.
This is hilarious.
Prostitutes were made to shave their heads as a punishment to the sinful life they have chosen – but today prostitutes live a life only as sinful as almost every Tom, Dick and Harry. The only difference being they earn for their ways of living.
I have not come across many prostitutes in my life but I doubt many of them have shaved heads nowadays.
I have no idea why widows were made to shave their heads – maybe some form of displaying their sorrow – weird!
And as far as being mistaken for a widow is concerned – it is a chance I am prepared to take.
I have always wanted to go bald – shave my head.
I always wanted to have a shiny head.
A head that can actually feel rain drops falling on them.
I had decided to have it done after my school years.
But then my mother and sisters manipulated me into believing that I would look terrible – now that I think of it I really do not understand where from ‘looks’ came into question!
I keep managing to chop off more and more each time I get a ‘new look’. The last one was one step short of shaving my head.
That implies this time I have got to do it.
I think it is pretty strange girls do not feel like shaving their heads around here.
The climate is so humid and sticky.
If I were born here I would have always had a bald head.
I mentioned shaving my head to one of my friends a couple of days back and her response made me think.
She told me to go ahead but to keep two things in mind:
1) My university exams are coming up and we have professors from medical colleges all over south India coming to evaluate our intellectual prowess. Unfortunately, these fools who do not know much tend to pass judgements based on appearances. And a bald headed girl with a nose piercing and multi coloured contact lenses is not what they classify under the ‘smart ones’ rather I would be classified under the ‘totally weird and waste of time’ category which is synonymous to ‘fail without question’ category. So wait till after the universities.
2) People are jobless. They love finding stuff to gossip/bitch/make up stories about – this is especially true in college. After Britney shaved her head and some bird brained actresses changed their hairstyles to get a different look – shaving one’s head has come to mean ‘failed relationship status leading to depression and low self esteem’.
This could not be further from the truth because:
a) I am not in any sort of relationship for it to fail.
b) If there was ‘a relationship’ I would be more than happy to end it and hence would never be depressed.
c) Nothing and nobody can bring upon me a low self esteem. If there is any person on earth who truly thinks she is awesome – it is me – and this stands to good reasoning too.
So here I am – frustrated.
Frustrated because I cannot do what I want to.
Jobless people and stuck-up professors have started deciding what I do with my life.
I wonder where I went wrong.
Should I just go shave my head and not give a damn?
Sunday 9 November 2008
oBAMa
Firstly – I am thoroughly disappointed with the response to my previous post.
I thought I could expect feedback as to which was your favourite post so far.
I think it is not much to ask for after posting 50 enlightening posts!
I received two comments!
If I had a heart that could be broken, it would be.
Secondly – I know I have not been posting for quite a few days now.
It does not mean I have stopped!
How many times do I have to assure you – I am not going to stop!
I have not posted because I have my university internal assessment going on and my final universities starting in the beginning of the next month.
And even though I would like to believe it to be untrue, the truth remains that a medical student has to work hard to get that damned MBBS degree.
So, this post will be short.
Obama made me think.
I like the guy.
He fits the job requirements pretty well.
1) He is very charismatic.
2) Whoever writes his speeches does it very well and he does make one believe he believes in what he is speaking. Plus he knows how to deliver a joke – even if it is not him who made it.
3) He seems to be smarter than Mr Bush – but then almost every human would satisfy this requirement.
And then there was the ‘history in making’ bit.
Everybody enjoys when history is made.
And being on the darker side of the 'complexion scale' you get free with every purchase of ‘Fair and lovely’, I especially enjoyed Obama winning.
I enjoyed it – that is about all.
I know of students in my college who rooted for his presidency.
I know of friends who prayed for him.
I know of friends who kept changing their Facebook status updates for Obama.
I know fellow Indians who are currently residing in India – the ‘youth’ of India – who don’t know the name of our present Prime minister.
I know of fellow Indians who check the voting results of America but do not know who the election candidates in India are.
I know of fellow Indians who ‘wish’ they could vote for Obama but have never in their worthless, ignorant, phony lives cast a vote in India.
I agree United States of America is a super-duper power.
I agree the president of USA might be the most powerful man on Earth today.
I agree this president being black might be something that excites everyone’s search for anomalies.
But I am an Indian and no matter what anybody has to say about anything at all, Obama winning this election will only serve in exciting that ‘search for anomaly’ in me – nothing else.
As far as I am concerned an Indian election is far more important to me because I am an Indian in India.
If you are an American it would be completely human for you to take the interest you have taken in this election.
The question is – How many Americans vouch for Indian election candidates?
Have minorities never stood as candidates in Indian elections?
I am not an extremely patriotic person or one who does not believe in globalisation.
I have a slight problem with Indians who want to be Americans.
You are what you are – the Americans don’t have a problem accepting who they are nor do most of the other nationalities in the world.
Why then do we, Indians, who have a country which actually requires its citizens, have such a tough time being Indians?
I am glad Obama won.
But that is the end of the story.
And I think that should be.
I found this picture pretty nice.
I thought I could expect feedback as to which was your favourite post so far.
I think it is not much to ask for after posting 50 enlightening posts!
I received two comments!
If I had a heart that could be broken, it would be.
Secondly – I know I have not been posting for quite a few days now.
It does not mean I have stopped!
How many times do I have to assure you – I am not going to stop!
I have not posted because I have my university internal assessment going on and my final universities starting in the beginning of the next month.
And even though I would like to believe it to be untrue, the truth remains that a medical student has to work hard to get that damned MBBS degree.
So, this post will be short.
Obama made me think.
I like the guy.
He fits the job requirements pretty well.
1) He is very charismatic.
2) Whoever writes his speeches does it very well and he does make one believe he believes in what he is speaking. Plus he knows how to deliver a joke – even if it is not him who made it.
3) He seems to be smarter than Mr Bush – but then almost every human would satisfy this requirement.
And then there was the ‘history in making’ bit.
Everybody enjoys when history is made.
And being on the darker side of the 'complexion scale' you get free with every purchase of ‘Fair and lovely’, I especially enjoyed Obama winning.
I enjoyed it – that is about all.
I know of students in my college who rooted for his presidency.
I know of friends who prayed for him.
I know of friends who kept changing their Facebook status updates for Obama.
I know fellow Indians who are currently residing in India – the ‘youth’ of India – who don’t know the name of our present Prime minister.
I know of fellow Indians who check the voting results of America but do not know who the election candidates in India are.
I know of fellow Indians who ‘wish’ they could vote for Obama but have never in their worthless, ignorant, phony lives cast a vote in India.
I agree United States of America is a super-duper power.
I agree the president of USA might be the most powerful man on Earth today.
I agree this president being black might be something that excites everyone’s search for anomalies.
But I am an Indian and no matter what anybody has to say about anything at all, Obama winning this election will only serve in exciting that ‘search for anomaly’ in me – nothing else.
As far as I am concerned an Indian election is far more important to me because I am an Indian in India.
If you are an American it would be completely human for you to take the interest you have taken in this election.
The question is – How many Americans vouch for Indian election candidates?
Have minorities never stood as candidates in Indian elections?
I am not an extremely patriotic person or one who does not believe in globalisation.
I have a slight problem with Indians who want to be Americans.
You are what you are – the Americans don’t have a problem accepting who they are nor do most of the other nationalities in the world.
Why then do we, Indians, who have a country which actually requires its citizens, have such a tough time being Indians?
I am glad Obama won.
But that is the end of the story.
And I think that should be.
I found this picture pretty nice.
Friday 31 October 2008
And then came 50...
This is my 50th post.
I unfortunately do not have anything enlightening enough to mark this as an extremely enlightening 50th post.
So I guess it will be just another 50th post.
I am extremely grateful to:
1) Myself
2) My wild imagination
3) My weird ways
I could not have completed this Herculean task without the three of you.
All the followers of this blog – Thank you for taking interest in enlightening yourself.
It gives me great pleasure to know there are at least a handful of people (‘hand’ful of ‘people’?!) who bother about such trivial matters such as enlightenment.
And if you have never commented on this blog till date – please do.
If you are jobless enough to be reading there is no harm in being jobless enough to be commenting.
And I am not judgemental as far as people are concerned
– I know everyone is an idiot.
I ask one favour in return for all the wonderful, awesome, enlightening posts I have written so far.
I know it is very difficult to decide but I would like you to let me know which post you liked best – so far (I am not much into telling the future)
Keep reading.
Happy Halloween.
I unfortunately do not have anything enlightening enough to mark this as an extremely enlightening 50th post.
So I guess it will be just another 50th post.
I am extremely grateful to:
1) Myself
2) My wild imagination
3) My weird ways
I could not have completed this Herculean task without the three of you.
All the followers of this blog – Thank you for taking interest in enlightening yourself.
It gives me great pleasure to know there are at least a handful of people (‘hand’ful of ‘people’?!) who bother about such trivial matters such as enlightenment.
And if you have never commented on this blog till date – please do.
If you are jobless enough to be reading there is no harm in being jobless enough to be commenting.
And I am not judgemental as far as people are concerned
– I know everyone is an idiot.
I ask one favour in return for all the wonderful, awesome, enlightening posts I have written so far.
I know it is very difficult to decide but I would like you to let me know which post you liked best – so far (I am not much into telling the future)
Keep reading.
Happy Halloween.
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