Off on a Hiatus,

Packing time again, and then I leave, first for my last night-shift for a while, and then come 4 pm tomorrow, I go home. Not so easy, in between will be "the journey", Any one who knows where Haflong is and its relative distance from Hyderabad will get the inverted commas, I am expecting to be with Mum and Dad by 5 pm on the 11th, that is if all goes well and there are no unaccountable, hitherto unseen delays en-route.

I am on pins and needles, this is going to be my first really long train trip, fingers crossed and all that. I have got my hands on J K Rowlings' new offering, "Tales of Beedle the Bard", and intend to carry it with me, let us see how that book fares.

I shall be away from my blog for the duration of the trip as the GPRS connections at home are somewhat awry, what with the stringent security measures we live with, and I am not very used to blogging from Internet Cafes,, so, till next time, Take care and wish me a safe and uneventful trip, and you could also wish me a nice travel partner for a change,,

I hope to have great stuff for you when I get back.

Bye.

More Ravings.

So it is after yet another night-shift I find myself spouting more nonsense, is it the lack of sleep that is responsible for my subjecting you all to this verbose torture?

Anyways, it happens to be the birthday of one of my friends and yet another friend has written a post on his blog of the inconsequential nature of B'day festivities, shall I go ahead and add my two-bit to it? Birthdays, I for one love them, be it mine or someone Else's, when I was in school they were a chance to get rid of uniforms, for a day at least, sweets distributed in class, everyone standing up to sing 'Happy Birthday' to you, while you stood silently, simpering and trying to act coy and that was a difficult combo, let me tell you. Come evening and the guests are due to arrive, you are bedecked in some silly outfit that your parents picked out for you, and in which you loo too pretentious for words, anticipation builds up, and I always used to be anxiety ridden till the first guest showed up, somehow always sure that nobody would actually show up and the party would be spoilt. Then came the turn for me to act surprised as I got the various gifts, surprise because I invariably got what ever I was secretly coveting,, and why not, I ask? When I had gone to such pains to hand out complete lists, well in advance..

Years rolled by, quite a few of them, and still birthdays are a time of happiness for me, so what if the number of people to wish me have dwindled to just family and two or three very sweet people who bother to remember. Gifts still matter, but now they are more from me to myself. As each year rolls by, we grow older and every year on the day we happened to be born, we tend to look back, with regret, longing and look ahead with dread and trepidation, the future looking bleak, unsure and so scary.No one likes growing old, at least I do not, ergo, the Henna in my hair today, but grow old we must and isn't it better to take the inevitable with a pinch of salt, and try to make the best of it? I shudder to even think that I might have a birthday, ever, when there will be nobody to wish me, no one to ask for or enjoy a party.

So, have a blast while you still can is my advice.

Cheers!!

Vampires and Graveyards,,,contd.

Treat this as another PS, albeit a delayed one,,Went out and got myself the remainder three books, and have already started on the second one in the series, "New Moon",, Bella and Edward have broken up, so that she would stay out of danger, this is after she is nearly killed by Edwards' brother who is still newly "born" and is therefore adjusting to their family norm of 'No Human Blood Shalt Ever Cross These Here Lips'. Great reading so far,, anyways, got to go and bathe, get dolled up to start my own graveyard shift, thanx to afore-mentioned sadist of a boss.

Did I say dolled up? Out of the 9 patients in my ICU, 5 are in a coma, 3 are not totally in their senses and 1 bed was vacant when I last left,, so you can see who I try to impress when I play dress up. No wonder this world of Vampires seems to appeal to me, am nothing short of one, myself.

Till next time,, stay safe.

Of Vampires and Graveyards..

Back from another night of fun, sheer fun at the ICU where someone, (read irate attendant who was not allowed entry into the ICU at 11 pm by yours truly) gave me a lesson on the WHO norms for transperancy in ICUs and I got a chance to be at my silkiest and sarcastic best, after a long, long time.

As I have no doubt enlightened you earlier, I am in the habit of buying books in bulk, whenever I have the requisite resources and then enjoying them at leisure, much like a cow ruminates, this time I picked up the first book in Stephenie Meyers' vampire series, "Twilight",,,,,and I simply could not put it down, it was that good a read. Written in the first person by this American teenage girl 'Bella' which is short for Isabella, by the way, who relocates to stay with her father, both her parents live seperately being divorced and all that, and there, in small town America, she comes across this family of atypical vampires, by which I mean that these are not your run of the mill blood-sucking monsters, they do suck blood mind you, but only of animals, and this girl falls in love with the youngest son of the family, who is just a century old by the way, and the (?) guy too is irrevocably drawn to her. The one-liners here are fabulous and the whole thing is one great page-turner. It ends with a prom, leaving you, thirsting (?) for more.

So I am going to post this freshen up and go get me the rest of the three books in the series, inspite of being half-dead from lack of sleep, which by the way does nothing for the way I look, and despite the fact that my sadist of a boss has me on another graveyard shift tonight.

So, if any of you have not read this book, and do not belong to the so-called clan of Intellectuals who would rather die than be caught with pulp-fiction in their hands, go get the books and read them, you are gonna love them.

PS. they are making a movie out of the series and the first is due to release soon.

PPS. This is a special thank you to those guys who are from Kansas and California, who stop by regularly, waste enough of their time to go through this. Thanks guys, wish you would leave a comment or two sometimes though.

PPPS. "J", why aren't you writing at all?

Woolies,,,

Any levity at such times seems so treasonous but then you do need to hold things together and so this post, this is something I had been meaning to share for quite a while,, a fortnight back when things were really rainy, cold, clammy and absolutely 'yummy' here, my Mum who spends a large part of her now retired life , when she is not in the kitchen, on the 'phone, reading or out in the garden fussing my dad while he worked (no he isn't a gardener by profession, he is retired too), she is surfing the news channels, and there are quite a few of those as you know, so anyways, she is watching how Chennai is flooded and the Low-pressure area is building up, she sees me, shivering in the freezing cold, though being from Haflong, my town, how she ever thought I was cold, is beyond me,, she sees me in tatters, blue, and three days later the Courier guy delivers a parcel that is half the size of my lodgings here, and from its depths appear a Red Jacket that served me very well last winter while I had to go to work, in the Tea Estate where I worked, at a God awful hour of the day,(my faithful readers who have been reading this drivel since the inception will know what I am talking of, and for the rest, go and read my Dec, Jan and Feb '08 posts),, and along with that were a blanket, another lighter black jacket, and a sweater..

Parents,!!! Mum conceived the whole plan and Dad carried it out, a good team they make,,Parents,,!! you just had to love them,, wasn't that sweet of them? It is a different matter that I have the jacket and other things neatly folded on my shelf, waiting for the next cyclone to hit, so that I can wear them.

Mum, Dad, you are the greatest, but then I guess they cannot help loving me, I am their son, after all.

PS. Got my tickets and am going HOME for 8 heavenly days, on the 9th. Can't wait to be home, in the cold. I love the winter and here every time you start thinking it is finally here,,,Gotcha! And it is sunny and muggy once again. God game it has got going here.

PPS. I was kidding about my readers being faithful, they are Heavenly. And patient and bored and kind and compassionate and dedicated to the cause of the mentally retarded, why else do they come here? ;) Love you all, I really do. There, I said it.

The Nightmares Continue,,,,,

And then there was a silence punctuated by the keening wails of those mourning for their dead, there were tears, for the dead, of the dying and for those left behind, left alone to shoulder a life riddled with guilt and anger. The anger is not so much directed at those who did this, rather it is a kind of helpless rage at the fact that we are so vulnerable, so open to something so violent, so barbaric.

The Politicians go into damage control mode, proposals of a central body to tackle exactly this kind of mindless terror, although chalked out five years back, is yet to see realisation. Lobbies, parties and their self-serving policies never take into consideration the most vital part of this Nation, its teeming masses, ironic right? A democracy which is no longer for the people?

I am running out of words to say, even more ironical, It is time our leaders did something out of their skins,,please, we cannot be made to suffer your inadequacies, your impotence. We can no longer lay down our lives to pave the pathway of your political dreams.

We can no longer wait for you to save our lives, you suck at it.

Reams of print and hours of bytes cannot even begin to scratch the surface of what actually went on those few days, and neither can anyone start to define the extent of vulnerability and unpreparedness this situation found us in, I just hope next time around, God forbid, we are better prepared.

Sitting Ducks

It is a gloomy, cloudy, misty day, full of intermittent rain and chilly. exactly the sort of day I would have revelled in were it not for the horrific events of the past three days, three full days, that is how long it has been since our vulnerability was thrown in our face, we were made aware of how at risk all our near and dear ones are, every day of the week, wherever you may be, whatever you may be doing. What has happened in Mumbai while being very shocking and terrible, is nothing new to any of us, the world as a whole has been targetted to increasing and ever novel episodes of terror wherein the perpetrators manage to catch us sleeping, every single time, without fail, and the worst part tis how delayed our responses are, we tend to go from a state of denial to slow acceptance and then try to figure out how to get things going,,by the time we roll, three days have gone by, hundreds lives lost and a valuable heritage desecrated.

How much is our defence budget made up of? I hardly think we are lagging behind as far as fund allocations and proposals go, when it comes to the actual procuring and buying of stuff, we are made aware of how inadequate our situation is when we see our brave troops go in to face a situation, say like the one that unfolded over these past few days, with Ancient, musket-type guns and then the NSGs are dropped off at the site of action by bus, like tourists on a field trip,, it is only through sheer bravery and grit, combined with the incomparable sacrifice of life and limb by some of the bravest sons of our country, that we are anywhere near to getting control over the situation. How ridiculously under prepared and underarmed we manage to look in comparison to the attackers, I really think our Defence Minister needs to get on the Net and skim through a few brochures for the latest arms or maybe he should set up a meeting with the terrorist who has been caught alive and get some contacts and visiting cards out of him,, put it all to good use so that next time around, it is a much more even match.

People are saying idiotic things that centre around a particular community and one of our neighbouring nations, Stupid thing to do rather than try and secure our homes and lives, we are trying to find scrape-goats,, how does it matter who they are? Terrorists have no face, no religion, no nationality, they are just perpetrators of death and doom, the only way to fight the threat is by improving our defence system, not only at our borders but at our houses, our lanes and our villages. This does not mean subjecting us all to body searches at every street corner and every street store, they are necessary but more importantly, we should have a central body, autonomous of course, in place whose sole purpose would be to take the correct decision, within minutes, the next time we face a threat, any kind of threat, and put it into action, even before the killers realise what retaliation they can expect. That is the only way we will be able to make our lives a little bit safer, a little more secure.

I take my hat off to the brave souls who helped save so many lives, including the staff at the Taj, and I also salute all of them because they have shown the courage to stand up and fight.

My heart goes out to all who have lost their lives and to all their families, it is they who have to live on, with all the pain.

I also sincerely hope our leaders think hard and long before coming out with any sort of soothing messages, and suggest that rather than waste time trying to play any blame games and waste too much time on post-mortems of what we went through, they sit down and think out strategies to make us stronger, safer.

A NATION BLEEDS

Mumbai bleeds, yet again and so do we. We cry tears of blood, every time a dastardly act like this occurs. When do these tears stop? Where do they stop? Mumbai was made the target, yet again, of indiscriminate acts of mayhem and horror, and all that goes through my mind when I see the ghastly visuals and hear the stories of horror, is how unnecessary and seemingly meaningless all this is. Every time this occurs we get to hear of yet another new terror organisation, as if these acts of cowardly violence were some sort of macabre bill-board, on which they advertise their presence, and to what purpose? They are driven by Avarice, Greed and other Psychopathic tendencies, all this bull-shit about Ideologies is utter hogwash, even they know how hollow they sound when they claim themselves to be carrying out a direct decree from the Almighty, when they, along with everyone else know, for a fact that the Almighty is all about Forgiveness, Tolerance and Love. They are not the deluded fanatics they make themselves out to be, the only thing that drives them is greed and lust, lust for money, power and blood, sadistic tendencies that exist in all of us seem to be the most dominating character trait in these people.

Mumbai bleeds, it is the same wherever you cast your eyes, Assam is facing the same threats, on a daily basis, as is Kashmir, different names, different ways but all leading to death and disorder. I come from a small hill-town in Assam, where people left their houses unlocked when they went out, during my childhood days, there just was no need to bar your doors from anyone, there was no threat, now that same place sees at least a killing a day, and because we are far away from the Media eyes, my town bleeds too, albeit a little more silently, but the tears are the same everywhere, bloody and terrible.

The entire nation is being held to ransom by a group of petty people with petty dreams, but the price that we are paying is beyond measure, beyond compare.

At the end of all this I still cannot help but feel how entirely unnecessary this is, how can anything justify this horror? How can anyone see their own die in front of their eyes, in their arms,,and not know why this happened and who is to be blamed?

Mumbai bleeds, A Nation bleeds, we bleed.

Of Kings and Beggars,,

For a change, I get to start the day exactly the way I want to, well maybe not completely exactly (?) because there was no milk in the fridge and I had to go get some, before I settled down in front of the TV with a cup of hot steaming tea, talk of life saving draughts.
As is my wont, I tend to skim the news channels first, and I kind of got stuck on NDTV 24/7 where they were following Jyotiraditya Scindia on his campaign trail in a programme called ‘Follow the Leader’, He is a strong bet for the ruling party, and their slogan states their desire to get closer to the “Aam Aadmi” the “common Man” to those uninitiated in our National Lingo, and after a while of watching him on his trail I couldn’t help feeling I was in an India a few centuries back, for here was a man who belonged to a princely family, hailed wherever he went as “Maharaj-ji”, who traveled along-with his own entourage, which included his family cook and an entire team of helpers, who followed him, in a Gypsy of their own, with all the materials and ingredients that go into making the favorite dishes of their King, just for the simple reason that he does not like food prepared by any one else, it has to be made the way his chef of 15 years does it,, and so the money that goes into his campaign sustains an entire kitchen on the move, among other similar ‘kingly’ whims I am sure. What a way to connect to the ‘Aam Aadmi’ was all that went through my mind when I saw this,, it was so much similar to the way you and I carry a lunch ‘Dabba’ to work, right?
I wonder how he is going to manage his election campaign account books, for I believe it is scrutinized by the EC, strictly at that,, he must be a genius with figures along with being a dashing young ‘King”,.
One more gem this morning, one of my friends’ brother, who is an inveterate egg-lover, devised a novel way towards cholesterol-control, eat ‘just two’ eggs instead of 'six', a day…Great way to go, right?, and we waste so much time on exercise and the right diet when it was so simple, all along. Way to go “Bhaiyya”.
PS. I am waiting for two more days before I get my return tickets because the petroleum ministry has announced sizable fuel price cuts, another Election first, in many ways,, so the Air-tickets have to get cheaper right?
Till next time, it is time for me to get my cape and hood ready, foe me to go and play Super-hero and save Lives.. God be with you.

Living Lies..

“No first use Treaty” Sounds very much like something that two groups of warring neighborhood kids would sign, prior to say, a Cricket match,,
On the contrary, this was rather something said by Asif Ali Zardari, via Videoconferencing during the Leadership Summit held in India,, sounds like a pile of words right? That is exactly what it is,, a useless pile of words that does not mean anything. How can anything as mundane as accountability exist when nuclear weaponry is at stake? How can two Nations who are busy enhancing their Nuclear arsenal (just because they are extremely developmentally motivated, mind you) ,be trusted on this? Do they really think if things reach such a state so as to lead to a show of Nuclear strength, people would leave all other thoughts to investigate who threw the first stone, literally? Just think how such an investigation would ensue and how it would progress in two such countries where justice exists only if you are poor, unconnected and on the faulty side of affairs,, everybody else manages to get away with everything, even murder, so what is a little massacre here and there?
Let us think of some outside agency snooping around, investigating such a case, the only good that would do, is give rise to a whole new group of prejudices, a whole new era of mistrust and needless persecution of the thoroughly undeserving, like what happened post 9/11, and while all this happens, the people who are really guilty sit in their cozy rooms, munching on pop-corn perhaps, while enjoying a close, on-the-scene view of things, thanks to modern information technology and the ever hungry for ‘a-byte’ vampirish new breed of journalists, ,whose jobs seem to depend entirely on how much dirt and tears they can muck up, in comparison to the next channel. While all this unravels, India, whose image is taking a beating already, takes one more, below the belt.
We were a nation of snake-charmers and sadhus who have evolved into a people who roam around with bombs and IEDs under our cloaks casting furtive glances all around, bloody murder on our minds. High time we hire a good PR firm.
Coming back to my original peeve, how can anyone with even an ounce of grey-matter in their skulls, for one moment think that nuclear warfare can be put on hold with such a trivial piece of paper? Can people who are so busy tearing each other to shreds be depended upon to honour such a thing? Can two nations governed by Ex-crooks and criminals really depend on its so-called leaders to do any good? We as a voter have created a Frankenstein-ish being, in the form of our elected representatives. Now we can just wait and watch, the control is out of our hands, we have set the ball rolling, and matters can only go from bad to worse from here, while our leaders count their vote banks in glee and smirk behind genteel grey beards….
PS..To end this,, let me tell you that I was 'not-so-politely' informed, by this 27-28 year old techie-son of one of my patients, that his money pays my salary and that I have to ‘bloody well’ give him my time, whenever he asks for it. More on that in a subsequent post? I still am fuming.

Unwanted Glories !

Back from another Graveyard shift,,Sitting down to write this to the back-ground score of the market update on CNN-IBN (?), and I see that none of the blogs I follow have been updated,,Hey Guys, wake up,,I am feeling extremely lonely here.

There was a comment on one of my recent posts asking why I hated my job, We doctors save lives, said she,,

What can I say? Some how going through her comment, I felt as if the world, or some part of it at least, sees Doctors as some sort of Super heroes,,We are not, super-heroish, I mean,,Being a doctor may be a matter of choice for some, or just a matter of fulfilling long cherished, unfulfilled dreams of their parents for some others..those they could not attain, themselves,,The day we join this supposedly hallowed vocation, we are somehow meant to leave back all traces of human desires and feeling behind us, akin to an Exile. We are meant to be kind, compassionate and gentle, while dealing with patients and their relatives,,but meant to overlook the facts that we have families too, those that look up to us, whose needs are supposed to be met by us, jobs we almost always fail miserably at because of financial restraints,,Finances play a very important part in every Doctors life, contrary to all the nobility associated with us, and the seemingly invaluable services we provide, to humanity, (not my words, I assure you) We are almost at the bottom-most rung of the pay-pyramid amongst all professionals. A graduation takes us six years, six back-breaking, gruelling years of mugging, swotting, toil and tolerating back-stabbing inter-class and inter-institute politics, and at the end of which we are paid far less than say what an Engineer is, or a Management grad is,,Fair? And we are supposed to love what we do?

All my social interactions are limited to people with various ailments and their families,,they are the only people I meet every day.. At the end of the week, you are longing for a conversation that does not deal with the mind-numbing details of these poor people and their ills,,At the end of a "normal" shift, you are so drained, exhausted, mentally and physically, that the only thing you want, desperately, is to crawl into bed and go to sleep, and the dreams that follow, on the days we have them, are filled with weird, scary images,,,,It is no wonder then that so many of us take to drinking as a matter of routine,,nothing else manages to take the edge off.

On the odd lucky day we do manage to get ourselves involved in some sort of a Social-do, there seem to be a horde of people who make a bee-line for you with all the collective ailments of an entire generation,,and you are reduced to a Virtual dust-bin...of sighs, aches and pains.

Bottom line, in-spite of all this we toil on, because we have to, no other choices,,,we are thwarted at every single step by that Power that decides what goes on in this world, that Power who plays us like pawns and we bend to His desires because we are meant to,,, no other choices,,,

Great life, that of a Doctor..I just wish I wasn't one, my parents have so many dreams and desires that need fulfilment, I so want the Tissot watch I saw the other day,,I so need some time-off (a comment which gets a look from my Boss, we do not ask for leaves,,but accept gratefully what is thrown to us,,), I so want to fall in love, get married to some one who isn't a part of this world of Microbes, test-tubes, beeps and monitors,,and I want to stop being seen as a Super-hero,..

PS. The high suicide rates among us Doctors seem to be saying something,,right?

PS..(No I donot Love you)

PS...Most of my thoughts start like this, as if they were post scripts in the long-long monologues I hold with the only person who bothers to listen to me, at all,,,,,,,, well,,'monologue' pretty much gave the game away,,right? My best listener, spectator, audience all rolled into one has always been 'me', 'myself'',,no, Irene does not come into this..... Anyways, as Post-Scripts tend to go,,, they do not hold any continuity with my current thoughts, just arise at random and take the form of my next long talk, till another PS comes along,,that has been the way with me, for quite some time now,,another sign that the Loony-bin beckons, perhaps. I am so used to these one-way ramblings that I tend to get quite lost in them, people wave at me from across the road, and I plod along, a silly smile or a frown on my face, depending on what I am saying to myself,,,quite oblivious.Turning into quite the eccentric, I am, these days,,and for that matter, what an odd way of forming a sentence..
PS..,,Does anyone else find these innumerable 'commas' a little too tiresome?,,
PPS,,,Does anyone else get the origin of the bracketed phrase in the post title? Please

Dostana Roxx,( Sigh!!!!)

This goes out to 'Dostana roxxxx' in my Orkut friends list, hope he reads this,,

I wish I was in Priyanka's shoes in Dostana,,,,Did I ask you to draw your own conclusions? Wicked people, I am surrounded with,,Surely you know that now I am gonna waste some of your time in explaining why I said this,,,,so let me be. Where was I? Yes, in Priyanka's shoes, btw, those Jimmy Choos could feed me for an entire year and sustain an entire Somali village for a week,,but I am rambling again,,I would have loved to be where P was in the movie, not because I would have had two Gorgeous specimens of Guy-hood live with me, imagine what that would have done to my already sagging self-esteem!!! Nor because I would have had THE perfect body and be surrounded by similarly endowed bods, just close your eyes and think Shilpa in the gold bikini,,,neither because I would have a gorgeous pad to live in, with an outdoor pool to boot,,,It wouldn't be for the fact that I would be paid 4 grand a month for 2 rooms, which translates into the salary I get paid by the end of 1 year of this God-Awful work that I do,,,It wouldn't be for the fact that I would be working for a magazine that would need me to look WOW, and go out gadding to Night-clubs and Auctions, in the name of work,,(Sigh, I have a night-shift in 2 hours time),,,,It most certainly would not be for the fact that my wardrobe would be hot, skimpy and cool at the same time,,,,,

It just would have been so good to have two friends who loved me so much,,two people who ended up putting me ahead of themselves, their ambitions and their lives,,friends who gave me great B'day surprises, who saw me out of every single scrape I got into, guys who would go to such lengths, just because they loved me, friends who would be there to wipe away my tears and my fears, friends who would give anythig to see me smile,,see me happy.. That is the one single thing I envy P.... Friendship,

Blue's my favourite color,,,

There's a low pressure area around Vishakapattnam, and this has given Hyderabad an early taste of Winter chills an the form of Squalls, rains and cloudy, gloomy skies.

AM LOVING IT!!!! (That reminds me, I have to shop for winter wear,,)

Enough with the weather update,,A few days back I woke up to James Blunt crooning "you're beautiful' to me,,,nice way to start the day right? It was a call from my past, Yes, my cell was ringing, and that was my ring tone,,,,and an old friend from my days in Dibrugarh was on line. The call took me back to my time in AMC and it was a nice, nostalgic walk down that particular lane...Back to when I had an acid tongue:)

One of the blogs that I follow gave me a great idea, let me try and put down a few things about myself that might explain the paucity of pals in my life,,,shall we start?

1. I have an acid tongue,

2. Combine number 1 with an Inflammable temper,,that makes number 2 a hugely volatile item,,

3. I butt in where I am least wanted and dispense with my unwanted wisdom a little too freely,,

4. I am overly critical of all that i do

5. I have made my Obsessive Compulsiveness into a way of life,

6. Small things get me down, and I am too weak to shrug-off these depressive spells

7. I am selfish and think that the world should revolve around me, and only me..

8. Indecisive and tend to lose track of my targets way too soon and way too easily,,

9. After all that has happened, I still think that I have some control over my life, and that things will go the way I want them to,,

10. I am a sentimental b******

11. I cling on to certain things in life, and find it so very hard to move on,,

12. I talk way too much for one person,,my topics change course and content faster than our politicians change their ideologies.

13. i do not know when to stop,, I should have stopped writing this post right after the first five or six lines,,,,

Horrible Monday!

I hate mondays.

Monday blues? No way, it is rather all the shades ranging from mauve to indigo including cerulean and all the in-batween shades, rather like an Asian paints shade card. add to that the fact that I have another night shift coming up and so I shall have to go through the unendurable torture of a shave,, sigh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Girls are so lucky, just armpits, leg and arm hair to deal with, all of which can be decently and deceptively covered up,, a method hardly likely to work in my case, unless I decide to wear a pot over my face,,maybe a ski-mask?

To add to all the agony is the fact that my laptop just refuses to open the page where I can recharge my DTH service, and I so wanted to watch the ongoing Test, it is the last day of the match wherein we are sure to give the Aussies the drubbing of their lives, plus it is the last time we get to see Sourav on the field. Come 5 pm and I shall have to sally forth, out of my room, to save humanity,,,,Boll****!! At best, I just try to deal with things as they come, all doctors do just that, and keep our fingers crossed that a patients recovery proceeds unhindered by any other complications,,,after all even the best efforts to try and foresee probable hurdles and prevent them, do leave a few loopholes, and I do have a 75 year old lady on my hands, who is, I believe on her last legs, and the family has to make some all important decisions, and I am supposed to help them make the right ones, while not seeming to do their thinking for them,,hardly a job I relish.

So, all in all, it has got all the makings of a great start to what promises to be an even more thrilling (!!) week than the last,,my my, ain't I just salivating at that thought.

(PS- Winter is slowly creeping up (yeah!!), but I am ill prepared to meet it 'coz I do not have my winter apparel ready,,what do you mean by asking what happened to last years' clothes,,? surely you do not want me to wear the same clothes 2 years in a row? )

Saturday Nite Blues,,,,

It is barely 8.30, and I am already bored out of my skull, I guess I could study, but where is the point of adding more boredom than is absolutely necessary to the situation, right?

So,, I am bored. Guess I could go and watch the new Bond flick, but that would mean getting dressed and what an effort that would be, right now,.(by the way Danny boy's by far the best 007, my take.)

Guess I could watch something on TV,, no wait, the installation isn't done yet, these guys have found out I am from Assam and so are putting on an especially 'laahe-laahe' show for my benefit,, just so I do not get too home sick, serves me right for having said that on my blog, oh just maybe like a 1000 times only?

Guess I should order some take out? No, I cannot, the seams of my jeans are going to sue me for Inhuman torture, and I still have to burn those Banana chips I had for lunch..

Guess I should work on my book,,,but one smart-ass person from its pages just is refusing to behave the way I want him to,, so, that too is out, at least till he sees some sense,,.

Some music? But that would remind me that Indian Idol 4 is on today and I do not have my Tv in a ready to watch state..

Finish the book I am reading? Shit,,that would remind me I have other books that I should be reading,,ouch!!

Tidy my room? Again? There are maybe three new dust specks after my last spree, 2 hours back..

Go out for a walk? Don't want to change, and don't want to be caught out by my patients' attendants in my tracks,,it is bad enough that I dress like a mix between a Parisian grunge model and a colour blind cow to work, that reminds me, my Sir has run out of disgusted looks to bestow on my idea of work-place-couture.

Guess I better go to sleep,,Maybe I can finish counting backwards from 1 million tonight...

Wish me luck guys....

Common Bonds,,,,,,,

I just noticed that a friend of mine, whose blog I follow, has been ultra busy over the past few hours, and once I am done with this, am going to settle down to some great reading.

I am a 3rd generation Assamese, and no matter where I go, Assam, her people and her language are never far from my mind. Hyderabad is a pretty long way removed from Assam, and does not feature on its usual migratory picture, people rather prefer Delhi or for that matter even Kolkata or Bangalore (please do not expect me to call it by its new name, lesser said of it the better) with regards to jobs or Education. So imagine my surprise, during my first days here, when I heard the Security personnel at our Hospital discuss the new Doctor, me, in typical Assamese, full of its inherent jargon, and you should have seen them react to my answers, a nice mix of Incredulity, Joy and Disbelief, followed by a little shame at being caught out. A piece of homeland, here!!

I am turning into a regular Agony aunt (!) for them, and find myself addressing odd problems at times, from an erring Fiancee' to a good-for-nothing brother at home who wants a Bike, the problems are varied, and their solutions have to be wel thought out and practical. Tough call.

I am even subjected to conspiratorial winks when they see me overhear discussions of a particular nurses' plus points (trying to put it politely here, I guess you know what I mean). The whole lot of them are young, away from home and in a land where they have to stick together, because of the bond they share.

Wherever I went, wherever I saw security, my ears perked on their own, and I was seldom disappointed. I am so much at home here. I am sure to hear at least a couple of swear words every day,especially a particular one starting with 'K', that translates into a certain wholesome fruit, in Hindi. There are brothers who are trying to get their younger siblings to follow them here, friends arguing over the merits of a job here versus a job back home, fellows bemoaning the increasing demands for money from back home,,,,,many such conversations float into my ears every day, private conversations, I know, but the speakers would not begrudge me overhearing them, because I was one of them, sharing a common unifying bond, that of a same land, a same language, a same longing, to return,,,,return Home.

PS. I am still awaiting the Tata-Sky people who were supposed to install my new DTH, yesterday, so that I could watch Sourav play his last Test,,guess my wait is going to last longer,,Laahe-Laahe anyone?

A Vacuum

In any conventional race, there are some people whose sole aim is to ace it, lead by such a large margin, there is never ever the scare of being overtaken.
There are some who do all they can to upset the plans of the others in the race,
and then there is a large chunk of participants who try hard to push on ahead, if not to the very top of the line, at least ahead of the guy just in front.
Then there are those, like me, who luxuriate in the thought that the race, any race for that matter, is just beyond them.
I , just like every single inhabitant of this planet of ours, am in a race too, and this race does not give you the option of pulling out midway, whether you like it or not, run you must, till the last lap rolls along and the chequered flag comes in sight. All one can do, is plod along. In every race, there will be winners and there will be those who are awarded the consolation prizes, provided they pick themselves up, every single time, and keep running.
This is one race I did not ask to join in, nor am I playing for a prize that I really have my heart set on, I had no choice in the matter, had no say in it, I was pushed in, and asked to run,,,,,,,I am.
But it has become tougher to keep on picking myself up, every time I falter, stumble or just tire , I am scared that I shall not find the courage, the strength, to pick myself up, next time I falter.
I am afraid I shall be the one who stops midway, and just gives up.
I am afraid that I shall lose out on even the Consolation prizes, in this race.

Random 'Rabid' Ravings,,,

I am down, in the dumps.
Anyone who goes, sorry, has to go to the movies by himself/herself is a loser, much like the loners on Prom nights or Friday nights, concepts no longer foreign to us, thanks to our new-found Americanised way of living, something that we have emulated and then implemented better than the Americans themselves, we always were a nation of quick learners.
Anyways I went to watch the new 'X-Files' movie. I never understood why that series did not get a longer run.
I came out feeling terrible, no the movie isn't to blame at all, let me just call it a male version of Bridget Jones'ism that takes over, from time to time.
No cures in sight, as yet.
I come back feeling lower that a rats' belly, and in order to feel good about myself, I go through the one and only testimonial I received, on a Social networking site, and it seems to have worked, I do not feel the urge to drown myself in a plate of fries, for the moment.
There is a girl, barely into her teens, who is dying of a terminal lung malignancy, and there is nothing that we can do, because the parents are just about coming to terms with the supposed inevitability of the whole situation, and even though there may be a place for a little bit of patience in all this, she may just make it through this time, to fight another day, but the overall outcome is not a very hopeful one, and any effort is just going to end up with the parents hoping and praying for a miracle. On top of everything else is the cost factor, mounting on every day and which are bound to be exorbitant, by the end of it all, no matter which way this particular match swings
Hardly an ideal situation, from any point of view. reminds me of the old joke about how LIFE was a Black man's left ass, never fair....
Shit...!

Dada, All The Best..You always shall reign in our hearts..

Another Test match starts today, a test in every sense of the word, India-Australia clashes, or to use a more politically correct term, 'meets' are fraught with the kind of emotions we used to find with India-Pak encounters or The Ashes maybe, including the latters' mudslinging, mind-games and war of words,,the print media taking sides and going all out, no holds barred too. I am at my hostel room, far away from a Television set ,to participate in any of this, but am still rooting for my team.

Furthermore I am praying fervently for the 'oldies' in the team, who have so much to prove, unthinkable after all they have given to our cricket, I know, but that is just the way we are, or I should say, a 'select' few of us are. Early Alzheimer's setting in I guess. Among the Seniors is the one man who gave Indian Cricket its present face. Previously we were renowned as being the capitulators of the game, quick to give in at the knees, adept at looking the other way, turning the proverbial other cheek, always managing, by dint of sheer hard work, to snatch defeat from the jaws of Victory, till this Captain came along.

He was given the Cap by default, but what a turn around for our cricket that became..

The rest is history, they say, but for us who overlook history so very blithely, we need to recall them. We became gritty, starting to turn around and show our teeth, rather than walk-away, we started initiating mind-games, making a Hoity-Toity Captain wait at a toss, matching pert remarks with smart ones. Defensive playing was at an end, we started to think we could win, and we did. Youngsters came into the team, selection meets did not end until the Captain saw to it that he had exactly those he wanted in the team, nervous debuts were converted into man-of-the-match awards, T-shirts were waved from the balcony of Staid cricketing grounds, Overseas umpires in certain countries now couldn't just, on a whim, give any of our batsman ,the dreaded finger, there was someone who would raise a questioning voice, stand up chest to chest and question. This Captain was called 'The Bad Boy' of cricket, and he ended up with a lot less that he actually earned, because the rest of the money saw their way back into the ICC coffers, as fines. He made the team gel into a unit, made every member stand up for the other, if the occasion arose. He made the rest of the world, who always took us to be a Nation with one or two Individual talents, see us as a team who could give the rest a run for their money, and make a claim for the world cup. He made me proud to see us on the field, filled with confidence, raring to go, fighting tooth and nail, every single time, he made me stand up and applaud my team, and him along with it. He turned us into a Nation of fighters, and today I pray that his swan song is one which is heard loud and clear, I want him to go out with a bang, holding his head high, full of the pride he instilled in us.

For he is and always will be, India's most successful Captain Ever.

Happy Diwali, Guys!!!

I did not have much to write about for quite some time,,,,
And I am also losing hair, faster than a mouldy old Persian carpet,, Anyways, It is that time of the year again, when starbursts fill the night sky, fairy lights twinkle where ever you turn and the poor animals cower, indoors and out of doors, anticipating the early restoration of peace, much like Mumbai is,,,right now..
I like to watch the night sky lit up by the fireworks even though I am aware of the kind of exploitation that goes into their making, right from the countless children who literally burn themselves, year after year, to bring this glorious spectacle to us, to the kind of plight the animals and many people too are reduced to, by the explosive sounds,,,I had pets, I really know!!
Conflicting Emotions again?
Story of my life,,,
I was standing by the water cooler cum purifier that stands in the veranda of my hostel, and which according to me is THE saving grace of the place, last night, when I saw, in the distance, above the twinkling night-lights of Hyderabad,,that lay down like a carpet below my eyes,,what I thought was a cracker of the kind that goes up, up, up and finally turns to a majestic display of Stardust,,but it just kept rising,,and rising,,,,it also kept coming nearer,,before I panicked into thinking that the terrorists (again, sic!!) are finally targeting our Hostel,,I saw it turn into an aeroplane, emit a drone,,and fly away, above my hostel roof, towards destinations unknown,,Or was it the 8 pm to Kolkata? Anyways,,,Gullible took on new meaning for me...
Diwalis of my childhood,, how I long for those days,...
Hope that this festival of lights manages to illuminate all our lives,,filling up those dark corners with joy and above all,,HOPE!!!
Have an Eco-Friendly time please, Guys..

Autumn Blues

Dusky twilight, made more fragrant by the smoky whiff of burning leaves, you could detect the tang of pine needles in the smoke, the evening air is laden with ,the almost imperceptible chill of the fast approaching winter,, the long walks home from school were made even more pleasant by the company of dear friends, our conversations and our silences, albeit few and far between, were full of the compatibility of that age.
In my town, dusk came early, the sun slipping behind and below the encircling hills before the day got adjusted to its bedtime, you could see the faraway hills, dotted with their collection of homes, gradually start to blink and twinkle as each household light came on.
We would try and draw out the last moments before each of us reached home, mine was sort of midways, and every single day, as the gate clanged shut behind me, last jokes and plans for the morrow got shouted over the hedge that lined our boundary, cut in a series of waves by Dad, and I remember always feeling a pang of envy (?) over the last lap of the trip that I never got to participate in.
Home, the last clamor of the insects reverberating in the approaching silence, before they too gave way to the silent night-life. Cozying up together over the evening cups of tea, catching up on each others day, Mum and me being the major contributors to this, Dad was always more the listener, poor,sweet-thing, I guess he never had much to say, when we were around, and he loved to be the listener. The last few days before Durga Puja were filled with anticipation, plans and a sense of joy, at the approaching good times, but I always recall my joy was tempered by the realization that all this would be over even before it started, a matter of just 4 days a year, this somehow made my Holidays less of a joy than they really could have been, and in the process I ended losing out on a lot.
I wish, now, that I had those days back with me, again, to ensure that I lived them properly, giving every moment its due share of joy, its own share of happiness, perhaps the regrets of so many undone things wouldn’t haunt me so, then..
I see now that no one is assured of the number of years that he or she gets, in this world, and I want to be able to spend time with my parents, before it is too late, to try and tell them how much I love spending time with them, because I always assumed that they knew, that they understood, and even if they do, it is always better not to leave such things to chance.
I am planning to go home, in late October, hopefully the finances will be in place by then, and Autumn at home, even for a short while, sounds Heavenly.

Prime Numbers,,,

" I think Prime numbers are like life, they are very logical but you can never figure out all the rules, even if you spent all your time thinking about them,," So runs a paragraph from the book I am reading right now, -Mark Haddon's ,'The Curious Incident Of The Dog In The Night Time', and since I read the lines an hour back, I have been thinking of very little else, we go through every single day of our lives, pretending to be well-planned, orderly and love to labour under the illusion that Life is exactly what we want it to be, how foolish we really are!

We all like a certain amount of order, predictability and planning in our lives, it is a different matter that for some of us, present company included, it takes a slightly more pathological form, and for all of us, all that we do, from morning till night, is in accordance with this plan, but in-spite of all our best efforts, life is as unpredictable as always, dealing us exactly the hand IT wants, and pretty soon we are left trying just to salvage the game, all thoughts of our 'master plan' long gone from our minds.

Life is like a set of Prime Numbers,with its own set of perfect rules, but never quite fully comprehensible, and the list never quite complete,,,,,,,,,

On being poor,,

I want to go home, for Puja. I can go into raptures about the ensuing Sharod-otsav and what it means to me, a Bengali,,suffice to say, I can smell the season in the air, and I long to go home,,,,,,

I do not think I shall be able to, why? Because flight tickets costs are above the roof,( sob-sob), and before I am labelled a snob for thinking of flying home rather than enjoying a leisurely journey in the common man's savari, I would like to clarify by saying that I am neither a snob, nor am I loaded with cash, it is just that the leave alloted to me is of 10 days, so going home, by train, and returning back on time, is out of the question, unless,,,,unless I call my parents, ask them to meet up with me in the Railway Station, and not even bother stepping down from the train, Lovely idea?

I hate being poor, I hate not having the hard moolah, that would have enabled me to be home in the Festive season.


Darn, double darn,,,,,,

Pride

i know this topic is "Passe" but still I cannot help wonder, does any one's heart still trill and the mind sing at the call of the bugle, to the strains of the 'Jana Gana Mana'?

This topic is hardly open for an everyday discussion but it is just that I have been reading a book based in the 1900s, set during WW2, and this has made me dwell on the subject of Nationality, Pride in ones country and what belonging to a Nation, any Nation, means to us, if it does mean anything at all,

Throughout my childhood days, early in the wee hours of days like the 15th of Aug, and the 26th of Jan, I woke up to the mellifluous Lata Mangeshkar, via the public address system, sounding like a soulful prayer, singing compositions of patriotism, penned by immortals, the lyrics of those songs still etched firmly in memory. I also remember standing, squinting against the sun, in starched uniforms, in rows, erect, proud, the Tricolor flapping in the breeze, waiting for the public march-past that always was a part of these celebrations, to begin.

I have memories of the Kargil war, brought home to us, thanks to satellite TV, in a real, and somewhat surreal manner, those clothes and fund collecting drives,long treks with sometimes very little but our soothed National pride, to show, at the end of a very long day,,,all a part of trying to belong, to be a part of what was taking place so far away, on those hilly, snow-clad peaks and valleys.

I remember standing transfixed at the India Gate, looking at the names of those who died, martyrs, sacrificing their yesterdays for our todays,,and I refuse that it was just another day at the office for any of those brave souls.

I also believe, that night long ago, in 1947, there were countless unseen faces amidst the thronging, joyous crowds, their eyes filled with tears of success, countless mothers with laps emptied, widows with their budding dreams forever swathed in white, yet all with their heads held just that little bit higher, for it was on the ruins of their lives a Nation stood, new-born, full of possibilities, full of promise.

When Rehman and Lata came together to give us a refurbished 'Vande Mataram', ans Bala gave us the accompanying sweeping visuals, every rustic face in the video, seemed radiant with love for the country, good actors? I do not think so,,,

I was here for this years Independence day, and what a welcome change it was indeed, to see the Tricolor unfurling from every imaginable place, and a few unimaginable ones at that, cycle rickshaws and a few proud BMWs to, all sporting a different sized one, Assam seems to have forgotten the joys associated with the day, and this year gave new meaning to the day for me.

I remember my mom, a school teacher, always stopping and standing still, no matter where she happened to be, whenever she heard the National Anthem, and she heard it every morning, as their school used to sing it at the morning assembly, every day, so on the days she was late, she would hear it midway to school, and halting, would resume her journey once it was over, I also stand up to the Anthem, no matter where it happens to be played, and no matter what I happen to be doing at the time.not because I have to, but because I want to, makes me feel like I have done my tiny bit, for this country of ours which deserves much more, so much more.

JAI HIND.

(Please forgive the typos, I cannot edit this post.)

Have you?

Have you ever stood out in the open, squinting against the sunshine, but at the same time, enjoying its warmth caressing you?
Have you ever huddled beneath the covers, in the dark nights, listening to a storm howling outside?
Have you ever looked into the eyes of a dog, your dog, and seen nothing but 100%, pure, raw unadulterated love?
Ever sat before a fire, on a cold evening, just chatting or listening quiet, to a conversation flowing around you?
Read a book in a corner, undisturbed, till it has grown too dark to see anymore, and you realize the afternoon has sped by?
Listened to a great song, an old favorite, and in spite of the smile hovering on your lips, you suddenly feel the sting of unshed tears, behind your lids?
Have you ever, for that matter sat outside, at dusk and watched the world around you settle down for the night?
Ever woken up early, very early in the morning, after a long spell of rains and found yourself staring at a freshly washed and laundered sky, aglow with the first rays of sunlight?
Have you smelt heaven in the fragrance carried on the wind, after the first showers? A mixture of wet grass, soaked earth and newly awakened hopes and desires?
Thought of a friend with whom you had a fight, aeons ago, and not been able to remember what the fight was all about, to begin with?
Have you ever seen into the eyes of the really old and seen the peace within?
Have you ever sat alone and listened to silence?
Ever taken a long tired breath after a job well done?
Eaten oranges, succulent, sitting with your back to the sun, a shawl around your shoulders, on chilly winter afternoons?
Your heart ever beat just that little bit faster when October rolls around and you hear, borne on the breeze, the faint sounds of the 'Dholkis', creating magic?
Have you ever. for that matter, almost dozed off, during a particularly nasty class, on a summer afternoon, listening to a cicada in the distance?
Waited for Christmas to come around, again, just so you could have your fill of multi-flavored cakes?
Have you ever read a line in a book, that you feel like going back and reading a few times more?
Ever taken out paper cartons, full of old birthday cards and missed, afresh, all the friends who were so close, once?
Gone through old pictures in albums yellow with age but the colors of the times, captured in those photos, still full of vibrant life?
Have you ever wondered why you somehow never seem to have the carefree, happy laugh you used to,?
Have you ever found yourself wishing, that given a second chance you would do certain things differently?
Got up in a hurry, late, and wished you hadn’t ignored the alarm yet again?
Have you found yourself wondering why we tend to cling on to the past? Why we never do let go?
Have you ever answered yourself, that maybe this is because we all know, for sure, the past is all we really have?..
Have you ever laid yourself to sleep, wanting with all your heart, just to go back home, and cried because you have found that you cannot?

Grey and Bleak Anatomy,,,,,

Boy, I miss my Sunday night dates with the top slotted NBC show, "Greys' Anatomy". Anyways, I am back in my room, after an extra gruelling night shift, and with green goo on my face, am sitting down to write this, eyes stinging, mind you, but I better, since the afore mentioned 'goo' on my face needs a half-hour to dry out, and then only can I proceed to my bath, and then,,,,Sleep,,,,my pillow beckons,,.

Why the 'Goo'?,,I ask myself the same question, its not as if I am in a job which needs me to put on my best face, literally, in front of dozens of people that I meet, as a part of my job. Hardly, the only unlucky ones to have to forcibly share my company are the poor, poor Sisters, and of course my patients, and it is unlikely they will ever complain. In this aspect, Greys' Anatomy is so far removed from what lives we, or at least I lead, glamour doesn't even make an annual-festival-like entry into the scheme of things, whereas the cast of Greys' Anatomy are so well turned out, always, even when they are on so called hectic 24 hour shifts, their hair, make-up carefully done so as to convey the entire gamut of nobility and stress our jobs are supposed to entail,,Bollocks!!!

Then the lives they lead, Snogging each other, (thanx to J K Rowlings for the term, I love it), in aptly placed corners and broom cupboards, or sleeping with each other, when not making dramatic, life saving decisions or taking calls that could make or break families and careers,..Even the cafeteria food they have seems so much better than the 'upma-idli-sambar-dosa' mix and match combos on offer here. Then the clothes they wear on perfectly toned, buffed bodies, and they have the sheer gall to suggest that the Docs' in that blessed hospital even smell, let alone eat a Pizza!! Liars!!

Then they leave work to go back to these loft-like spacious, well co-ordinated apartments, and condos,,even the kitchenette looks much better, much more comfortable than the Fox-hole I come back to,,. To top it all is the all-year round, never ending Chic winter, you will have to agree with me on this, Winter IS the most glamorous season there is, you can go all out on your dresses, and Ensembles,,and then you look so much better, when you are coming in, huddled against the cold, the snow, hands deep n your pockets, bundled up, your face, in a tight close up, burdened with all the earthly problems of the multitudes,,.

We too go through these happenings, day in and day out, but not as beautifully or in as cozily chic a way as this. Our settings are far less pleasing to the eye, and our off duty, or for that matter even our on duty, off work hours, are so extremely not interesting, with un-buffed, over fed bodies in ill-fitting, ill-matched outfits,(dare I call them that?), hovering around you, there is so much solace in a book, its pages offering you better diversions,,so much easier to avoid a conversation, thus,,.Can you blame me?

How I wish I had the Address of that Glorious hospital in Television land, I could shift there for a residency,,THEN perhaps this 'Goo' that I have on my face would be put to some use,,,That reminds me, Yes! It is dry, I have got to go and take a bath,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

A wet love story,,,

It's raining, again, the again being said with stars in my eyes and a huge smile on my face,,you cannot even begin to understand the depths of my love affair with the rains. I have nothing but pleasant memories of the rains, how can one not? staying at a hill station? You are lashed by rains, for days on end, the only sound audible for hours, if you stopped to listen, would be the pattering on the roofs, the swaying noises the tree-tops made, lissomely dancing in the rains. There were drains running over their brims, streams and small springs overflowing, swollen up to resemble small rivulets, crashing over smooth boulders,,following a crazy twisted course, en-route to the lakes and rivers that abound, aplenty...

I still remember coming back from school on rainy Saturdays, umbrella shut and packed in the bag, taking the long-long road home, laughing, (more of giggling for me), with equally demented friends, and I can recall seeing people who were avid lovers of fishing, sitting swathed in their rain-gear, beside the huuuuge lake that was like the centrepiece of our town, patiently awaiting that one bite, while the fish frolicked away to glory, in the rains, just out of reach of the frustrated men, my father one among them, many a week-end.

'Khichdi' at dinner-times, on such stormy, rainy nights, intermittently illuminated by the electric bulb, and the kerosene lamp, for the inclement weather also meant an erratic electric supply, which sometimes took whole weeks, after the rains stopped to finally get repaired,,,mummy had to just hear someone mention 'rains' before she got that 'khichdi' look in her eyes, and I would reflect it, because I loved it too,,,,ummmmmm, a steming plate-full with crisp fried potato fingers, omlettes and Papad, my father, poor guy, used to get this martyr-like look on those days, as he was not a very big fan of this dish, being more the 'chapatti for dinner' kind,,but who used to go along because he used to love mum, still does for that matter, more than his chappati,, sorry Dad,,secret's out.

Then the singing,,,, after dinner sit arounds, in the veranda, watching the rains, when I performed on request, old songs, shrieked out at full pitch, to be heard over the noise on the roof-tops,,and my singing, like the tea I made, back then, were palatable to just a handfull of people, those who loved me, of course..

This love for the rains stayed with me and even under circumstances, where this was severely tested, back in Dibrugarh, where five minutes of rains would mean overflowing drains, uprolled trouser legs, and scary nights filled with hourly reports on the river Brahmaputra's current level, for this was a town, where the water level was always 3 to 4 feet above our heads, seperated from us by a 5 feet high dike,,,

I love the rains, everything to do with it, and I really believe, this is one affair that is going to last,,,,and last,,,,,,,,,

Star Dust and Dream Worlds

Magic, Fantasy (not the erotic kind, of course) and Dreams,,filled with Super-heroes, fantastical creatures and stories full of strife, struggle and tortured lives,,,all with one thing in common, the triumph of Good, the all prevailing message that is driven home by the end of all these Fables and tales.

But, why do we need them? Why do movies made on Spiderman, who is just another unhappy, 'different' kid, like you or me, well more like me than you in his geekiness, draw such a following? Well, just because he has the much lusted for power to set things right, at the end of what is, to him, just another day at the office. Yes, and maybe also because the fact that he would be as much of a loser, as the kid on the back benches, back at school, if it were not for those awesome powers he had. He goes through life smirking silently at those who think he's just another loser, many of whom, ironically enough , are saved by him from countless scruples, they get themselves into,,the girl whom every guy lusts for, salivates at his mere thought,,what more could he want,? at the end of the day, brushing his teeth, before going to bed, for I am sure even Super-heroes need to do that.

Super-heroes, Dragons, magic and Magical worlds are a way for us to fight things that would otherwise be much too overwhelming for us, a move to a new town, yet another 'F' at the Maths Test, Unsightly braces, a crop of Zits spouting up all over the face, just when you want to look your best for some all too important occasion,,at all those times when we feel ready to give up, and I have'nt written some of the more serious, and perhaps more genuine troubles here, intending to keep this post light, and not seem like yet another page from the Twilight Zone, an area all-too familiar with me and people who know me,,by the way, 'all too' seems to be all over the page;)

If not for these wonderful worlds and people, hovering in the land between the impossible and the 'could it happen?', life and its inherent pains would prove to be unlivable. Harry lets us escape into realms where the probabilities and possibilities are endless, Eragon lets us fight a myriad of evils, Hanuman leaps over, literally, all that stands in his way, The Borrowers make even the loneliest among us, never be really alone,,Spidey and Supey meanwhile take on the more global issues, making all of us safe, making all of us believe, every trouble, every gloom is transient,, and there is always someone very much like us, ordinary, from among our midst, maybe me or you,(ok, more you than me), who would put on a cape, or with the swish of a wand, a few choice magic spells thrown in, or riding on a fire-breathing, jewel-hued dragon,,,make things just perfect,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Look, a falling star, let me make a wish, then perhaps when I wake up tomorrow, I will find myself sitting at the Gryffindor table, eating breakfast, a non-fattening one,,laughing at a joke my best fried Harry, not Hari made,,,,,;)

Meandering Thoughts

Cerulean blue, The colour of potted Forget-me-nots, Periwinkle,,,,,,,these are the words I would have used to describe the colour of the sky, today,,but since I am not gifted with such literary genius, I shall simply go ahead and say that what I saw today was a "September sky",,,There were white fluffy, mischievous clouds scudding to and fro, revelling in the day's beauty, nostalgia caught up, swept me away, back to similar skies in the past. The wind had a smell of festivities on it. Standing on my Hostel balcony, the wind seemed to whisper promises of joyful times ahead,.There are strains of old, old Hindi film hits wafting out of closed doors on my floor, I can hear the chink of glasses as friendly gossip provided the perfect company to a few rounds of even friendlier drinks,,,,Surely you cannot have lyrics to beat these,,Kishore Kumar simply ROCKED,,still does.

This is an utterly pointless and aimless post, I know,,but this is just the way I feel today,,aimlessly and pointlessly happy, nostalgic, a little bit Home-sick and a little bit anguished over the fact that I donot have anyone to share these moments with...

A goodbye,,,,

This one is for you, brave lady, and for you ,her son.

I am going to miss saying 'Hi' to you walking into the ICU, I am going to miss you waving at me, unable to speak but acknowledging, all the same,,after all we knew each other for what would have been two months, come 7th of September,,but you decided to bow out of the tussle, the fight had raged on for so long,,,how befitting or should I say ironical it was indeed, I who received you into what became your last resting place, on one of my night shifts,, had to sit and complete the formalities of your passing,,.

I am going to repeat what I said to your son, as I handed him the envelope with the final documents,,that I was sure you knew what he had done for you, in spite of not knowing where the bills would be paid from, and also that I would wish my children do the same for me, if such an event comes by in my life,,,,, I admire the way you always smiled, even when your state reduced us to hapless, frowning spectators, I remember how you held that piece of Chocolate between your lips, a few days back, when your son bought you a slab of chocolate, on what would be his last Birthday that you were around for.

God grant your soul all peace, and when my time comes, may He grant me half the strength you showed, during your long struggle,.In death you showed me what life was all about.

Thanks dear lady, it was a pleasure and an honour, knowing you.

Woes

I wish I were a girl,,,,,Before any of you rush around looking for Freud's cell number, let me finish,, after that you can have me committed, for all I care. If this post is accidentally ('coz people do not usually read my trash!!) read by any hard core feminist, they are going to contemplate running after me with tar and brush..

Anyways, to get back on track, I really wish I were a girl, because girls really have it made. All through life guys subject themselves to various forms of torture, sometimes in the name of Education and at other times, in the name of fashion or in order to look cool, just so at the end of 30 years of gross misery, they are considered a safe enough bet and are made to shoulder responsibilities that cling on like an unsatieted vampire, letting go only after the death throes of the afore said male dislodges them, Girls on the other hand just have to look pretty, and now-a-days, talk smart, listen well and nod at the appropriate times,,all the time dissecting what every other female in the vicinity is wearing, or in their minds, roaming the aisles of the nearby Mall, where there is this "simply killing" sale going on,,,,They have MEN to look after them, for ever, once the bait is firmly held between the hormonally ravaged males' teeth,, and who are ready to play Sir Galahad, at the slightest hint of tears in their lady's cosmetically enhanced eyes, to whip out their coats and tide them over the pool of muddy sorrow troubling them,, at the moment..

Girls have it so easy,, never a thought of mortgages, loans, Anniversaries forgotten, and penance due,,knowing all the while that there is someone out there looking out for them, ready to forgo kingdoms, or betray their closest buddies, with hardly a pause to think,,ready with their arrows aimed at improbable golden deer, willing to face a marauding army or a roomful of giggling glances, waiting outside the trial room of a clothing store,,murmuring compliments, each more heartfelt than the previous,,,,all for an approving smile, a grateful touch,,,,,,I tell you Girls have it made...

I am totally for their using their so called feminine wiles and charms to get what they want,, it would be sheer foolishness indeed to waste such potent weapons,,,and when the targets are there jostling each other, chests bared, to be first in line, why not?

I tell you, I would love to be a girl.!!

Wednesday Blues?

To start something and leave it undone, incomplete while I zero in on some other far away thought, that's me. I think this is just a small aspect of the utter chaos that seems to reign in my brain, all the time.I have to count sheep to fall asleep but then find myself wondering about vegetarianism and animal rights. I go to watch a movie and find myself sobbing my eyes and heart out, much to the utter embarrassment of my companion of the moment, (did that sound Gigolo-ish?, I assure you, all's above-board and pristine,,,up till now), I sit down to an after movie dinner and start thinking of my increasing waist-line (so what if it is increasing at the rate of a Nano meter a month?) , I am doomed, to be one of those kill-joy old Bachelor uncles, who know just the exact thing to say, at any given moment, in order to shroud all happy things in a pall of gloom and despondency,,,try as I may, I never seem to be able to hold a smile, on my face for too long,, you can imagine what a horror I must look like, to those around me.

And before any-one diagnoses a nervous break-down, let me clarify,, this isn't a new occurrence for me, for as long as I can remember, I have been this way,,too wrapped-up in the unpredictability of the future, over which none of us have any control or say, what-so-ever,to try and absorb the joys of today,,. Sick? I know.

Rains,,,,,

Whatever misconceptions I had of being a great writer, have been washed away with the monsoons,,,, yes!!! The rains are finally here,, I could almost close my eyes and imagine being in Assam. Getting back to my original topic, the traffic through my blogs pages has been so heavy, the sloths, snails and tortoises are finding it tough going,,,

The rains are finally here, Hyderabad is looking like a new place, altogether.. Rains are a major trigger to nostalgia, I keep remembering the rains in my home-town, it used to go on for days on end, the water falling from the roofs, making deep holes in the ground below, the smell of wet earth,,,,leaves, freshly washed and green, people scuttling from place to place,, huddled under umbrellas, rain-gear on,,fires burning inside every house-hold, partly to ward off the chills, and partly to keep all the washing dry,, fritters and roasted corn cobs, by the fire-side, watching soaps and movies on cable,,,,calling up friends, on the landline....chatting for hours, until one of mum's scowls finally penetrates, and cuts them short...going for classes, in the rain, three people under a single umbrella, each one ending up, more soaked than dry,,,

I could go on and on,,,Rains always seem to improve my moods, and make me less grumpy a person,, I have never been one for sunny boring days, where there is simply no mystery,,cloud filled rainy days are full of the unexpected, the pregnant clouds looking to empty their loads, and you seeking to stay a step ahead,, I love this time of the year, and now that I know Hyderabad too has rains, like this, I love this place even more,,,

PS. I have started work on my book,,,it starts on a pavement in Hyderabad, one rainy evening,,,,

ICU Hangovers and Beyond,,,

I have completed a hellish shift, am still 'zombi-ing' around without sleep, so this surely isn't going to be one of those flippant, meaning-to-be-humorous posts,,,,consider this fair warning,,


Actually my mood is pretty blue (hmmmmmm, has it ever been any other way besides blue?),,and this is partly because I have been reading 'The grapes of Wrath'. I loved the book, and while I can't help but stand open mouthed, in awe of J. Steinbeck's mastery over the letters of the Alphabet, and how he uses them to weave a spell of misery over the readers, at the end of which you can't but appreciate all the pleasures you really have been alloted, by the Almighty, in the midst of all the chaos,,,,I sure am not going to pick this book up again, in a hurry. I am going to read a piece of fluff next, and the proud privilege of getting to be a soothsayer to me, goes to,,, "Sue Townsend's Adrian Mole and the Weapons of Mass Destruction",, my next read in what is a series of books that are written to appear like the diary of a boy,, from his childhood through his adolescence,, to when he grows up, over a number of books.


I never pick my books as per the Bestseller list,, so there!!!!

It is strange how I am constantly buying books, assimilating a library, when I do not even have a permanent roof over my head, and am practically living off suitcases, like a vagrant-migrant... The only place I can ever call home being too far away,, and there was a roof-high shelf in that home of mine, in my bedroom, where lie the other books I have, awaiting my return,,,to a place where I really feel rested,,at peace.

(a piece of heaven,home)

After this,,I move on to,, 'Eldest' book 2 in the Eragon saga. The third book is releasing in Sept '08,, and you can go to http://alaegesia.com/, for all the details and a peek into this fascinating world.


If anyone does manage to make sense of what I wrote here,, Hats' off!!!

ICU Nites

I am back in my dreary matchbox of a room, after yet another night in the ICU, and all in all it was a pretty uneventful one, which means that I didn't have people dying all over me,, but this complacency was somewhat shaken by a patient choosing the last few moments of my shift to go into a transient hypotensive state, which, thankfully was quickly averted,,,Whew!!

So, here I am, with nothing to do but twiddle my thumbs, and since I never could get myself enrolled into the elite clique of thumb-twiddlers, I thought why not regale my meagre readership with yet another mad, Illogical and warped but entirely original, episode of what goes on in my head,,,

Tomorrow, come evening and I shall be headed off to yet another night of boundless joys at the ICU, and this, I know, will be preceded by an hour of agonising deliberations on what to wear,, which will finally leave me as nondescript as always,,and after reaching there I proceed to take a 'hand-over' from my colleague of the previous shift,,I have the quintessential black-tubed, aluminium laced, talisman cum ID dangling from my neck, and before anyone starts wondering at the seemingly STAR-TREK inspired dress code here, let me clarify, I was talking of the Stethoscope,, the wonderful tools we Doctors have which allows us to listen to your every heart beat, at the same time taking us farther and farther away from all emotions linked to it, leaving us like, unfeeling data banks, with pre-programmed auto-responses to any given situation. When I use the word " Talisman" I do so with a reason, this is the thing that separates us from the so-called laymen, this is the tool that supposedly means that we have the answer to every query the family of those admitted here have,, and so also a solution to every problem, a way around every hurdle their patient faces on the way to a speedy recovery,,,If only that were true,, all of those who are placed in this unfortunate position will understand what it feels like to have eager, expectant eyes turned to you, bated breaths waiting to hear one sentence that could mean the end to all their troubles,,and all we do is stand there trying to figure out how best to put the harsh reality into words that would hurt the least,,,,,my vocabulary always goes on an uninformed break at times like this,,,,,We do not always act as harbingers of doom though,,, patients make steady progress, and we do update their families to the latest good-news,,I wish it could forever be just this way,,Just good news, positivity and hope,,,,,,,,,,,,,

You know what makes me go on? In spite of this caustic, cynical attitude? Hope,,

Hope, in the fact that if we work just that extra bit harder, look that little bit more closely into everything that is going on,,maybe,,,just maybe,,,,,,,
PS,,The rains are finally here, I shall now go back to reading my book-of-the-moment,, 'The grapes of Wrath',,,

What do I write of?

I decided on a hair cut today, and after deliberating on all the salons in the area, I decide, as usual to go to the neighborhood 'bhaiyya' AGAIN,,,,, and on reaching there, I see that half of Hyderabad has had the same insanely brilliant idea, I end up squashed/squeezed in a room meant for 3 people to stay in at a time, with at least 10 other guys, and unluckily for me, the monsoon still seems to be playing truant,,,,more woes of the sweaty, smelly kind for me, who said life as a middle class doctor was going to be easy, right?
Anyways, after a scan of all the magazines lying around the place, almost all of them with pictures of heavily endowed, scantily clad females with various degrees and classes of 'come-hither' looks on their faces, on their covers,, I decide to make a call back to Assam, and during the ensuing conversation (which meant, me talking my guts out, and the other person waiting to slip in a sentence or two, whenever I came up for breath or paused to wet my throat), the person who, apart from being a good friend, was also one of the very few readers of my blog, suggested that I should do some writing commercially, for example write a novel,, collection of short stories, or that I should at least compile these jottings of mine and have them published,,,,,,,Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm!!!!
Was he serious? Who would bother to read something I wrote? For that matter, what do I write about? From my experience, people do not want to spend money to read whining stories of endless, bleak sufferings, unless you are someone who has suffered famously, and in the public eye, like Madam Nasreen,,so whoever wants to write commercially has to have a subject which is viable, in the marketing sense of the word,,, and I do not have any such theme in mind,, as yet!
But I really would like to ponder on it for a while, and see if I can do something about it,,,
Till next time,,,In serious search of 'something to write about',,,,,,,Ciao.

Hyderabad blues,,,

There are basically two types of people in the world,, and before the 'Gay rights activists' come and break my doors down, I wasn't referring to the obvious and somewhat passe' division of the sexes,,I meant something else, let me explain myself,,(groans and sighs anyone?).There are some lucky individuals on the face of this earth who seem to sail through their lives with all the ease and buoyancy of a spore bearing tuft of fluff, released by summer plants, to float on, carried by the winds, not mindful of the direction they were taking,always managing to fulfil their goal of propagation, no matter where they end up,,,, and then there are some others, like me who try their best to control what they do and how they do it, and who are so introspective that everything that goes wrong around them, in some crazed way,, maybe could have been prevented from happening, if only they had done something differently,,,.Trust me, if there was to be a nuclear holocaust, and I were to survive, (a remote possibility, the survival part I mean, not the Holocaust) I would manage to find a way, however remote and impossible, to link myself to the occurrence, I go through life, and there are a few other unfortunate idiotic souls like myself, constantly checking back, always on the look out for slip-ups, not because of any outside accountability, mind you,, but just because my OCD (there it goes again), never permits me to take it easy. Even when I am watching a movie, like I was last night, (Love story 2050 is an utter waste of time, and the only reason I went and sat through it was because many people felt I resemble the hero,, poor fellow, he is never going to make it in Bollywood,,) I could only think of better seats that I could have booked, how untidy the people were making the floors, with all the littering, how everybody was engaged in unhealthy gorging of gross oily snacks,,,,and on and on and on,,,,,,,I mean none of the issues were earth shattering enough, or totally in my control, to make any difference, whatsoever,, but when did I ever stop to listen to any voice of reason?

This is just an example,,,,a few days ago, a patient is brought to the ICU during my last night-shift, who is already too far gone, after ten days of suffering, with more then a couple of organs dysfunctional, dies within the next few hours,, and I am left with a dozen questions of how perhaps I could have done something different, when I knew all too well that there was nothing more to be done humanly,,,this goes on and on and on,,,,,,,

A 10 year old is struck with a malignancy and I am left with a million Whys and What ifs,,it doesn't pay to be so emotional and unduly attached to all the patients I see, but how do I stop myself? It doesn't pay to try and right all the wrong in the Universe,, but try telling that to the stupid thing in my head, which is all out of control,,m and never stops to think,,,,,,try telling me that everything that is meant to happen, will happen, no matter what,, but do I listen?

The King of Cynics,,

I have been told recently that I somehow manage to find something worthwhile and good, in whatever situation I maybe in, and here I was, priding myself in being a part of, if not THE most prestigious member of the 'cynics association',,,,Jokes apart, I have always thought of myself as being unduly worried and bothered about every minor niggling little thing around me, and have to make a real conscious effort to keep a smile on my face, at most times of the day,, that too because the ICU, as is an unwritten rule with every single ICU, where I work, is a cheerless place to begin with, and I do not want my countenance to cause any impedance of any sort in the recovery of the poor patients, who have enough woes of their own, without having to keep their eyes screwed up shut, too scared to lay eyes on my Medusa-like visage!
I cannot imagine what led the person to make a remark like that, but it set me thinking, what do people see when they see me?, if the sentence made any sense at all,,,
What do they feel when they talk of me? Does anyone ever really bother to look behind some one's face? Do I? Sometimes it really takes an effort to rise out of the gloom,to think of something nice, something other than what's bugging me at the moment,,,but I have become so used to being down in the dumps, mentally, I feel like I am slowly adapting to staying down there.
I really do not want to turn into this bitter old Scrooge of a person, and maybe this is the reason why I try to find something nice, pretty and good, in people, situations, and life as a whole,, if at all I do,, just to survive, to stop the bitterness from taking over completely,,so I smile,, and joke, and kid around,, and talk nineteen to the dozen,,,,,,,,,,,

Midnight Woes and worries..

It's past 12 midnight, we are well into what some people call the witching hour, I am plugged into my favourite FM station and having aimlessly wandered through the maze called the Internet, I finally decide to try and put something down here, it has been long overdue. There has been a few things brewing in my mind, these past few days, I just haven't been able to catch hold of one particular thought, from where I could start unravelling my convoluted musings,It's true, at the best of times, with only happy, cheerful thoughts, I still have to assimilate my twisted mind into some sort of order before I myself start to understand what is really going on upstairs, and at times like these, when happy thoughts are a distant mirage, somewhat like the UPA and it's dreams of an unconditional support by the Left, on the Nuclear stand that our 'Not-So-Brave PM' has cornered himself and his party into,,,my brain truly attains the quality of a puzzle that would stump many a Sphinx,,, had they but existed today,,

Something is not quite right,, my OCD extends to such an extent that I can feel when things aren't going the way they are meant to, in my immediate vicinity, at home or in the lives of the few people I love, and who I guess, love me too.. My mother is having this chronic cough,, she has been, since quite a while, and now she has been experiencing a mildly painful redness in both her eyes,, I am scared,, of the fact that my Grand-ma died of Lung cancer,, and maybe I AM reading too much into this,, but I AM SCARED!!!! For us death isn't an unknown entity,, (by us, of course I mean Doctors,,) and yet we don't want to accept the human frailty that exists in our family, in the ones we love,, We want them to stay unscathed by age, time and disease.

Something is not quite right, I can feel it,, I can,,!

If only I also knew where, and how to put it right, as easily as I straighten a crooked bed-spread in my room, or rewrite an untidy drug-list on a patients bed-side ticket,,,I can't,, and this hurts,, so I do the only thing I can, given this situation,,I pray, to Him who gives us all our troubles, and also the strength to face, fight and if He deem it so, overcome them.

The fact that we are mere puppets never strikes one as strongly as in these moments of impotent helpless anxiety,, and we realise, all over again, how HUMAN we are,,