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!

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!

Saturday, 22 November 2008


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.

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.

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)

Thursday, 20 November 2008


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!

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.

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.

Wednesday, 19 November 2008


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’.

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.

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.
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'.

Saturday, 15 November 2008


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!

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?

Sunday, 9 November 2008


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.

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