Looong weekend!!!!!!!
It doesn’t quite happen always and when it happens brings with it the thrills and frills of travel. A long weekend, that is. Here comes one. Courtesy the national holiday on October 2, 2007 for Gandhi Jayanthi that falls on a Tuesday. However, Chennaites have another lucky day off from work on Monday the first of October. Reason? The government (or rather the ruling DMK party) wants the Sethu-Samudram project to be up and running and not put on hold.
Be that as it may, I can’t help but be amused on the prospect of a four-day weekend. Got no great plans yet it feels good to laze around at home watching the rains slapping the bedroom windowsill holding Mario Puzzo or Jaishree Mishra (her book Afterwards I meant to say) and reading them on and off. Personally, I love the rains and the chilled breeze it brings along with it. Not to say the leaves those wear a fresh look of having been washed recently.
Talking about rains, it rained hailstones in Chennai city yesterday. Call it a curse; I couldn’t witness it since my office was located way off the beaten path from the city. I don’t remember watching a hailstorm in like two decades. The one time I remember about them was when I was still in school and it rained hailstones on a holiday. I collected them in a tiny plastic see-through case without knowing that they have very less shelf life. They didn’t last long but the joy of collecting them lasted of course. The memories more so.
If there are no sudden travel plans cropping up, I’m planning to shut myself home and finish those books I laid my hands few weeks ago. Ofcourse, if there aren’t any distractions.
By the Way, Happy Long Weekend!!!
PS: Now that brings a thought in me. How about starting a new community on Orkut? ‘Long Weekend Lovers’? Sounds like an idea indeed.
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Friday, September 14, 2007
Dummie’s guide to reading the signs – (not strictly restricted to signs as in ‘body language’)
Disclaimer: Most (yes, most) of the points mentioned here are the author’s own observations. None of the instances mentioned here are to be considered as diagnostic in nature.
1) If your call in the middle of the night to a friend is greeted with an unusual, long vowelled hey (like heeeeeeeey), know for god’s sake that he’s digging his nose into something else. Like in the middle of courting a cute face on chat or simply in bed trying to get some sleep. If you intend to continue your conversation, you will most certainly be encountered with disinterested monosyllabic answers (ranging from ‘ohhh’ to ‘mm’). You will even be bewildered when he loses the track completely and tries to make it up by posing stupid questions.
2) Girls can fake attention like no other. For instance, if your conversation is responded with way too many ‘nods’, be sure that it’s time to decide if you really want to continue that. Same way, if you can make out a fake smile you would save yourself from the embarrassment of feeling exhausted for no use whatsoever.
3) On a date, if your date displays no visible preference for any of the exotic delicacies mentioned in the menu - and simply says you order - it is more likely that he or she has absolutely no idea whatsoever about the cuisine. May be you will want to consult him/her the next time (if at all there was one).
4) If you are jobless for a couple of months and had no luck in a million job interviews and are in the brink of frustration, try and keep cool. This situation most certainly lands you up in a nice job in the end. Rather unexpectedly when you almost gave up all the hopes.
5) Ok, it could be the best seller that won the biggest prize for writing. But if you couldn’t cross more than 10 pages no matter how hard you tried, the book, most certainly, is just not your choice. Chances are more likely that the book will lurk around in your bookshelf without you even being bothered about the space it occupies – if not for any other reason.
6) Ok, you think you look handsome and are smitten with your looks. But, on a Friday, if your favorite T-shirt decides to play the traitor and could no longer camouflage your flourishing potbelly; it’s high time you decide whether start going to gym or send those t-shirts flying out of the window.
With that, I guess I’ve exhausted my imagination. Well, it’s time for me to read more signs.
P.S: Thanx for the fellow bloggers for inspiring me to think (if I can call this inspirational thinking)
Disclaimer: Most (yes, most) of the points mentioned here are the author’s own observations. None of the instances mentioned here are to be considered as diagnostic in nature.
1) If your call in the middle of the night to a friend is greeted with an unusual, long vowelled hey (like heeeeeeeey), know for god’s sake that he’s digging his nose into something else. Like in the middle of courting a cute face on chat or simply in bed trying to get some sleep. If you intend to continue your conversation, you will most certainly be encountered with disinterested monosyllabic answers (ranging from ‘ohhh’ to ‘mm’). You will even be bewildered when he loses the track completely and tries to make it up by posing stupid questions.
2) Girls can fake attention like no other. For instance, if your conversation is responded with way too many ‘nods’, be sure that it’s time to decide if you really want to continue that. Same way, if you can make out a fake smile you would save yourself from the embarrassment of feeling exhausted for no use whatsoever.
3) On a date, if your date displays no visible preference for any of the exotic delicacies mentioned in the menu - and simply says you order - it is more likely that he or she has absolutely no idea whatsoever about the cuisine. May be you will want to consult him/her the next time (if at all there was one).
4) If you are jobless for a couple of months and had no luck in a million job interviews and are in the brink of frustration, try and keep cool. This situation most certainly lands you up in a nice job in the end. Rather unexpectedly when you almost gave up all the hopes.
5) Ok, it could be the best seller that won the biggest prize for writing. But if you couldn’t cross more than 10 pages no matter how hard you tried, the book, most certainly, is just not your choice. Chances are more likely that the book will lurk around in your bookshelf without you even being bothered about the space it occupies – if not for any other reason.
6) Ok, you think you look handsome and are smitten with your looks. But, on a Friday, if your favorite T-shirt decides to play the traitor and could no longer camouflage your flourishing potbelly; it’s high time you decide whether start going to gym or send those t-shirts flying out of the window.
With that, I guess I’ve exhausted my imagination. Well, it’s time for me to read more signs.
P.S: Thanx for the fellow bloggers for inspiring me to think (if I can call this inspirational thinking)
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Tsunami-fear-stuck Chennai
It happened three years ago – the day after Christmas – but the gruesome and nightmarish memories are still intact. So when the Indonesian government raised a Tsunami warning after a bad earthquake hit the country yesterday, it was indeed time to panic.
For Chennai was one of the badly hit regions during the previous attack. This time around though, thankfully the officials made arrangements to keep away people from the beaches and the crowded Marina wore a strangely deserted look last evening.
Well, getting washed away by monstrous waves is the last choice for anyone to die. Ironically so in the often water-starved and monsoon failing Chennai. Thankfully, Tsunami seemed to maintain a low profile this time around. Probably bored she is. Or is it the silence before the storm??!?
It happened three years ago – the day after Christmas – but the gruesome and nightmarish memories are still intact. So when the Indonesian government raised a Tsunami warning after a bad earthquake hit the country yesterday, it was indeed time to panic.
For Chennai was one of the badly hit regions during the previous attack. This time around though, thankfully the officials made arrangements to keep away people from the beaches and the crowded Marina wore a strangely deserted look last evening.
Well, getting washed away by monstrous waves is the last choice for anyone to die. Ironically so in the often water-starved and monsoon failing Chennai. Thankfully, Tsunami seemed to maintain a low profile this time around. Probably bored she is. Or is it the silence before the storm??!?
Monday, September 10, 2007
Am I selfish??!???!
It does happen quite often with me. Could be universal in today’s life on the fast lane. But I did not particularly like it happening with me. Or rather I do not like my attitude towards it. My fret has enough reason. Here is how.
Having fancied pasta for supper, I decided to visit the neighborhood shop for the purchase of ingredients. A crowd in the middle of the road attracted my attention on the way and soon enough I found out that a reckless four wheeler driver ran into a two-wheeler leaving the victim bleeding profusely. The injured man was in his middle age and was bleeding from his bruises in his forehead and face.
By now roadside hawkers and a few others gathered around the victim sprinkling water on his face, making him drink some and trying to keep him conscious. I could see he was only partly conscious. The focus was on the injured man and the four-wheeler driver put the situation to better use. He sped away with his vehicle.
Some hailed a rickshaw to move the man to a hospital. He was still bleeding and hadn’t regained his full consciousness.
All this while I could only manage to pose a dumb spectator. I simply thought there are other people to help him and he doesn’t need mine. But had a hard time contemplating whether or not I’m right.
However, in the end I did not feel guilty although my heart sank for the man. I proceeded thinking that I have my pasta to cook.
Am I selfish, irresponsible, and lack sympathy?
It does happen quite often with me. Could be universal in today’s life on the fast lane. But I did not particularly like it happening with me. Or rather I do not like my attitude towards it. My fret has enough reason. Here is how.
Having fancied pasta for supper, I decided to visit the neighborhood shop for the purchase of ingredients. A crowd in the middle of the road attracted my attention on the way and soon enough I found out that a reckless four wheeler driver ran into a two-wheeler leaving the victim bleeding profusely. The injured man was in his middle age and was bleeding from his bruises in his forehead and face.
By now roadside hawkers and a few others gathered around the victim sprinkling water on his face, making him drink some and trying to keep him conscious. I could see he was only partly conscious. The focus was on the injured man and the four-wheeler driver put the situation to better use. He sped away with his vehicle.
Some hailed a rickshaw to move the man to a hospital. He was still bleeding and hadn’t regained his full consciousness.
All this while I could only manage to pose a dumb spectator. I simply thought there are other people to help him and he doesn’t need mine. But had a hard time contemplating whether or not I’m right.
However, in the end I did not feel guilty although my heart sank for the man. I proceeded thinking that I have my pasta to cook.
Am I selfish, irresponsible, and lack sympathy?
Tuesday, September 04, 2007
Tribute on the Teacher’s Day
They are the means of access to the world of knowledge. Teachers. Although the advent of Internet has redefined the conventional methods of learning, in my opinion it’s only from teachers that one can gain worldly wisdom.
Since it’s teacher’s day, I decided to pay tribute to two of my teachers who started my education and sort of ended it. Not that I have finished my studies once and for all. But yeah, I no longer think that I would (and have to) attend regular classes. Not that I hate them, but I tend to think that I have grown old for classroom sessions. Besides, I dread the prospect of sitting through grueling daylong sessions and the worse part is that it really gets tough to hold your heavy eyelids open after a heavy lunch, you know.
Now back to my teachers.
Miss Rita:
She held my little finger and walked me slowly to the world of those alphabets (both ‘Capital’ and ‘Small’ as she defined it). I can still recite those ‘Ba Ba Black sheeps’ and ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Stars’ although now it would be weird for someone in his late 20s to sing them – even if it’s to pay tribute to his first teacher in life. My mom used to tell me that I was a fussy kid when it came to school. I tend to shriek all day to be sent home during those early days of my school, she says. However, if it was not for Miss Rita I am not sure I would have endured the ordeal of my earlier days in school.
It’s been quite a while since I have met her now. Reason being I relocated and no longer visit the town that I did my studies. Wherever you are Miss Rita, please know that I am in awe with you.
Miss Vidya:
She wanted to be called ‘Vidya Miss’ and they all did, partly in fear and partly in respect. It always amazes me how well she camouflages her tenderness in a thick shell of severity she often imposes upon the students. She handpicks her close friends with absolute care and if one happens to fall inside the circle, she sees to it that it’s a lifetime friendship.
Since it was during the later years of my college that I took tuitions with her for language, our relationship is sort of teacher-turned-friend and she often found herself at odds when it came to pinpointing my poor performance in studies (which is not an infrequent occurrence by the way). However, she never failed to criticize when I became sluggish.
I haven’t seen her in a couple of years and I have taken it as a task to reestablish my teacher-friend relationship with her soon. Are you reading Miss?
They are the means of access to the world of knowledge. Teachers. Although the advent of Internet has redefined the conventional methods of learning, in my opinion it’s only from teachers that one can gain worldly wisdom.
Since it’s teacher’s day, I decided to pay tribute to two of my teachers who started my education and sort of ended it. Not that I have finished my studies once and for all. But yeah, I no longer think that I would (and have to) attend regular classes. Not that I hate them, but I tend to think that I have grown old for classroom sessions. Besides, I dread the prospect of sitting through grueling daylong sessions and the worse part is that it really gets tough to hold your heavy eyelids open after a heavy lunch, you know.
Now back to my teachers.
Miss Rita:
She held my little finger and walked me slowly to the world of those alphabets (both ‘Capital’ and ‘Small’ as she defined it). I can still recite those ‘Ba Ba Black sheeps’ and ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Stars’ although now it would be weird for someone in his late 20s to sing them – even if it’s to pay tribute to his first teacher in life. My mom used to tell me that I was a fussy kid when it came to school. I tend to shriek all day to be sent home during those early days of my school, she says. However, if it was not for Miss Rita I am not sure I would have endured the ordeal of my earlier days in school.
It’s been quite a while since I have met her now. Reason being I relocated and no longer visit the town that I did my studies. Wherever you are Miss Rita, please know that I am in awe with you.
Miss Vidya:
She wanted to be called ‘Vidya Miss’ and they all did, partly in fear and partly in respect. It always amazes me how well she camouflages her tenderness in a thick shell of severity she often imposes upon the students. She handpicks her close friends with absolute care and if one happens to fall inside the circle, she sees to it that it’s a lifetime friendship.
Since it was during the later years of my college that I took tuitions with her for language, our relationship is sort of teacher-turned-friend and she often found herself at odds when it came to pinpointing my poor performance in studies (which is not an infrequent occurrence by the way). However, she never failed to criticize when I became sluggish.
I haven’t seen her in a couple of years and I have taken it as a task to reestablish my teacher-friend relationship with her soon. Are you reading Miss?
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Who dares wins – simple gyaan to get away if busted
Have you ever had the nerve to dare an Indian police constable? The pot-bellied, thickly moustached, pan-chewing, stain-toothed, crotch-scratching, and loud ones. My encounters with them only ended up in me being submissive and handing the pittance they demand to let you go. However right you may be, and if you were wrong things could be even worse. That situation often thins down your wallet off a 500-rupee bill (which is considered to be the barest minimum in the ‘constable-bribe-bible’ under circumstances where the victim is at the receiving end).
There is this expat friend of mine who owns an Enfield and drives around the town – most of the times to challenge the Indian traffic and the rest to commute to work. Although, he had received advises in loads to own a car, he gyans that driving around in a two-wheeler in India enhances one’s confidence and tremendously improves the ‘never say die’ attitude. I could perfectly understand that since he probably had never witnessed any such traffic nightmares in his entire life before coming to India. Especially the unruly and careless ones. It’s not a surprise that he takes it as a challenge.
It was one such day that he was stopped by a police constable when he was returning back from work. It was the end of the month and apparently the constable had a shortfall in his monthly budget that he hoped to fill in a way normally other (corrupt) policemen adopt. Hunt down for two-wheelers and if there were a few who did not own a license, insurance, and important papers of that sort… Bingo.
Eventually, after being stopped by the constable and producing the necessary papers, my friend should have been let go. To his dismay he was asked for a bribe after which all hell broke loose. The argument grew hot by now and the constable was giving instructions over his walkie-talkie to send the tow truck – apparently to impound the vehicle.
It wouldn’t have been a wise thing to do when a constable stopped you in the middle of the night, but my friend did that. He took his camera out of his knapsack announcing that he was going to take the picture of the constable for demanding bribe.
Not sooner after this, the constable was seen running hysterically down the streets obviously not wanting to be flashed on the TV screens the next day. Although it was a possibility. My friend could not believe his eyes and not stop laughing his lungs out either.
These days, he does not forget to carry his camera in his knapsack.
Disclaimer: This article is not intended to hurt anybody’s feelings. Especially not the honest policemen.
PS: Sorry Jack (name changed to protect privacy) for not obtaining prior consent before posting this article.
Have you ever had the nerve to dare an Indian police constable? The pot-bellied, thickly moustached, pan-chewing, stain-toothed, crotch-scratching, and loud ones. My encounters with them only ended up in me being submissive and handing the pittance they demand to let you go. However right you may be, and if you were wrong things could be even worse. That situation often thins down your wallet off a 500-rupee bill (which is considered to be the barest minimum in the ‘constable-bribe-bible’ under circumstances where the victim is at the receiving end).
There is this expat friend of mine who owns an Enfield and drives around the town – most of the times to challenge the Indian traffic and the rest to commute to work. Although, he had received advises in loads to own a car, he gyans that driving around in a two-wheeler in India enhances one’s confidence and tremendously improves the ‘never say die’ attitude. I could perfectly understand that since he probably had never witnessed any such traffic nightmares in his entire life before coming to India. Especially the unruly and careless ones. It’s not a surprise that he takes it as a challenge.
It was one such day that he was stopped by a police constable when he was returning back from work. It was the end of the month and apparently the constable had a shortfall in his monthly budget that he hoped to fill in a way normally other (corrupt) policemen adopt. Hunt down for two-wheelers and if there were a few who did not own a license, insurance, and important papers of that sort… Bingo.
Eventually, after being stopped by the constable and producing the necessary papers, my friend should have been let go. To his dismay he was asked for a bribe after which all hell broke loose. The argument grew hot by now and the constable was giving instructions over his walkie-talkie to send the tow truck – apparently to impound the vehicle.
It wouldn’t have been a wise thing to do when a constable stopped you in the middle of the night, but my friend did that. He took his camera out of his knapsack announcing that he was going to take the picture of the constable for demanding bribe.
Not sooner after this, the constable was seen running hysterically down the streets obviously not wanting to be flashed on the TV screens the next day. Although it was a possibility. My friend could not believe his eyes and not stop laughing his lungs out either.
These days, he does not forget to carry his camera in his knapsack.
Disclaimer: This article is not intended to hurt anybody’s feelings. Especially not the honest policemen.
PS: Sorry Jack (name changed to protect privacy) for not obtaining prior consent before posting this article.
Friday, August 10, 2007
Assaulted author – new level of religious fundamentalism in India
Yet another scuffle and an ugly protest hidden in the name of religious intolerance and fundamentalism. This time directed towards Taslima Nasrin at the Hyderabad Press club on the release of the Telugu version of her book Sokhe.
Surprisingly, (well, it is not so surprising, after all being MLAs doesn’t change anything out of a person) Taslima’s assaulters included 3 MLAs of the All India Majlis-e-Ittehadul Muslimeen. They were detained for the rough treatment only to be released a while after.
I had certain doubts (or rather questions) though:
1) Have the protesters ever read her books at all to be able to strongly protest the opinions expressed by her in her works? That’s not even a possibility for if they have, they would not be insane enough to unleash brutality over her. In my opinion, if a person has enough patience to read a book, he would only adopt more civilized ways of demonstration. Because that makes him a cultured individual where the difference lies between a fundamentalist and an educated person.
2) Why is the Indian government hesitant to provide her a visa? Why should this issue be entangled in the endless labyrinth of bureaucracy? Or is it that the Indian government is fearing an outburst of more such protests from the extremists if the visa is granted? In that case, why not say no?
3) Do these protests really affect and shake Taslima Nasreen so much that she stops expressing her views against the religion that she belongs to? Because, a death sentence against Salman Rushdie for his ‘Satanic Verses’ did absolutely nothing to his freedom of expression.
Is it time that we think better and become a little tolerant? I mean there are better ways to express remonstration. Aren’t there?
Yet another scuffle and an ugly protest hidden in the name of religious intolerance and fundamentalism. This time directed towards Taslima Nasrin at the Hyderabad Press club on the release of the Telugu version of her book Sokhe.
Surprisingly, (well, it is not so surprising, after all being MLAs doesn’t change anything out of a person) Taslima’s assaulters included 3 MLAs of the All India Majlis-e-Ittehadul Muslimeen. They were detained for the rough treatment only to be released a while after.
I had certain doubts (or rather questions) though:
1) Have the protesters ever read her books at all to be able to strongly protest the opinions expressed by her in her works? That’s not even a possibility for if they have, they would not be insane enough to unleash brutality over her. In my opinion, if a person has enough patience to read a book, he would only adopt more civilized ways of demonstration. Because that makes him a cultured individual where the difference lies between a fundamentalist and an educated person.
2) Why is the Indian government hesitant to provide her a visa? Why should this issue be entangled in the endless labyrinth of bureaucracy? Or is it that the Indian government is fearing an outburst of more such protests from the extremists if the visa is granted? In that case, why not say no?
3) Do these protests really affect and shake Taslima Nasreen so much that she stops expressing her views against the religion that she belongs to? Because, a death sentence against Salman Rushdie for his ‘Satanic Verses’ did absolutely nothing to his freedom of expression.
Is it time that we think better and become a little tolerant? I mean there are better ways to express remonstration. Aren’t there?
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
I long for a holiday…
It’s been days since I’ve packed my bags on a trip and it’s not surprisi
ng that I want one right now. I mean it does get boring at times of endless orkut-ting, coffee-ing, g-talking, and even blogging (all at work, mind you) especially because your life becomes a monotonous exercise where every activity is laid down in a neatly fashion. Notwithstanding the aftermath of sitting and staring your computer for hours together at work and back at home after that.
Monotony epitomizes the prolonged sensation of doing either absolutely nothing or the same thing time and again for like a thousand and one times everyday. Although one keeps bitching about the demerits of monotony, there seriously isn’t anything that can be done about it. No matter how hard you try. It is partly you. After all, old habits die-hard.
So that’s when the thought struck my mind of taking a holiday. Not that I have enough money to fuel the logistics for a trip, but it’s okay to have a wish. A dream perhaps? Nope, dream would be making it too unachievable. I will have a wish rather.
SMACK…. Duh I got caught while blogging at work.
Well, I suppose you get to work from time to time to substantiate the value of your pay packet.
Duh… back to work now
It’s been days since I’ve packed my bags on a trip and it’s not surprisi
ng that I want one right now. I mean it does get boring at times of endless orkut-ting, coffee-ing, g-talking, and even blogging (all at work, mind you) especially because your life becomes a monotonous exercise where every activity is laid down in a neatly fashion. Notwithstanding the aftermath of sitting and staring your computer for hours together at work and back at home after that.Monotony epitomizes the prolonged sensation of doing either absolutely nothing or the same thing time and again for like a thousand and one times everyday. Although one keeps bitching about the demerits of monotony, there seriously isn’t anything that can be done about it. No matter how hard you try. It is partly you. After all, old habits die-hard.
So that’s when the thought struck my mind of taking a holiday. Not that I have enough money to fuel the logistics for a trip, but it’s okay to have a wish. A dream perhaps? Nope, dream would be making it too unachievable. I will have a wish rather.
SMACK…. Duh I got caught while blogging at work.
Well, I suppose you get to work from time to time to substantiate the value of your pay packet.
Duh… back to work now
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Shambo - Shiva Shambo 
Despite the hue and cry from numerous animal welfare organizations in the UK, Shambo, the sacred bull infested with Bovine tuberculosis, was finally put down. Sadly a long battle that lasted for 5 months could not save the life of the animal.
If only people gave a thought about the numerous Shambos (with or without Bovine Tuberculosis) being slaughtered everyday for meat in India (or in UK for that matter).
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Party by the pool – that went awryIt is not everyday that our bosses feel the need to celebrate. Well but this time there was a reason. A rather official one at that.
Although it was during the mid of the week, we (I) geared up for the party as soon as the day ended – a little before that to be precise, but who cares. After all, it is a party hosted by the company no less. I packed my bags and left for the venue with a few of my friends.
It was a resort by the beach and the evening sea breeze was already enveloping the entire place sinfully. Definitely irresistible for a party atmosphere. Music was set up to be played during the course of the event although sans a DJ. The pool – with sparklingly clean blue water – besides where the temporary liquor counter was set up was temptingly inviting. However, nobody seemed to be in a mood to plunge and take a dip.
Meanwhile, the evening faded away and gave way to the moonlit night. The party started after the bigwigs reached the venue. The medley record started playing and people started swaying their way to the lawn after downing a couple of shots.
I obliged too. Not to the music, but to the range of liquor brands that was on display. One of my friends was gleefully taking a look at the counter and contemplating at the prospects of having a sip of all the brands. Which I think he did eventually.
The party was growing wilder and wilder and numerous announcements were being made and prices distributed for the achievers. By now I was a little buzzed, however, my friend has started swaying from side to side losing the firmness of his feet on the ground and smiling from ear to ear. The effect of alcohol obviously.
It was time for food now and I decided to check out what was lined up for dinner – after calling it quits with the alcohol. My friend had by now gulped close to half a dozen shots and still is in a mood to go further. I filled my plate with a bit of everything and came down to the lawn.
The sight I witnessed right then gave me the disgusting feeling of nausea. My friend – although now gave up attempting gulping those shots – was discharging his vomit directly into the pool of crystalline blue water. I left my plate of food right there – partly to give him a hand to find a better place to spew and partly since I decided to give up eating that night after this sight.
It wasn’t until early in the morning since he was safely reached home that I hit the bed.
The party sure was a happening one for me. At least for the fact that my friend was the spotlight of the day (or night rather) and for the ensuing week at work.
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Bipasha’s kiss – who frets and who cares?
What’s with the celebrity craze? Are we really a society that’s dying to hear how Bipasha locked her lips with Soccer player Ronaldo in Lisbon backstage of the much-hyped ‘the new seven wonders’ campaign? Or is it just the sensational-news hungry media that blows things out of proportion?
‘Times Now’ dedicated almost a solid hour ranting over the fact that Bips already have a boyfriend and Ronaldo have a girlfriend. They even dissected Bipasha’s damage control statement nitpicking the grammatical aspects (well the grammar was okay, it is just the meaning) of the same. To top all that, analyses were sought from editors of Page 3 tabloids and fellow celebrities.
Good god. A not-so-worthy news piece that could’ve been just compressed in the entertainment segment of the news bulletin – just the way it was shown in CNN-IBN – has literally become a debate of national interest for others.
What if Richard Gere could not control his libido when he shared stage space with Shilpa Shetty and Ronaldo for reasons similar in case of Bipasha? Who cares other than India’s pseudo-religious fundamentalists waiting for an ‘opportune moment’ (as is uttered by Bipasha Basu in her damage control statement over the kiss) to stage protests in the name of safeguarding the cultural values?
Well, I don’t. Not in the least.
What’s with the celebrity craze? Are we really a society that’s dying to hear how Bipasha locked her lips with Soccer player Ronaldo in Lisbon backstage of the much-hyped ‘the new seven wonders’ campaign? Or is it just the sensational-news hungry media that blows things out of proportion?
‘Times Now’ dedicated almost a solid hour ranting over the fact that Bips already have a boyfriend and Ronaldo have a girlfriend. They even dissected Bipasha’s damage control statement nitpicking the grammatical aspects (well the grammar was okay, it is just the meaning) of the same. To top all that, analyses were sought from editors of Page 3 tabloids and fellow celebrities.
Good god. A not-so-worthy news piece that could’ve been just compressed in the entertainment segment of the news bulletin – just the way it was shown in CNN-IBN – has literally become a debate of national interest for others.
What if Richard Gere could not control his libido when he shared stage space with Shilpa Shetty and Ronaldo for reasons similar in case of Bipasha? Who cares other than India’s pseudo-religious fundamentalists waiting for an ‘opportune moment’ (as is uttered by Bipasha Basu in her damage control statement over the kiss) to stage protests in the name of safeguarding the cultural values?
Well, I don’t. Not in the least.
Sunday, July 08, 2007
A Thousand Splendid Suns – Khaled's new novel Although I did not think Khaled Hosseini’s previous book Kite Runner was a great one, I decided to give his latest offering ‘A thousand splendid suns’ a try. Khaled’s plot selection for Kite Runner was laudable, however the novel trailed away from its intensity during the end just before it reached the climax. That apart, Khaled’s splendid job of the portrayal of friendship in the barren and war-ridden Afganisthan definitely made the book worth a read.
Coming to think of ‘A thousand splendid suns’, Khaled has adopted the Afghan backdrop yet again. With numerous issues plaguing Afghan such as Taliban extremism and atrocities against women, there is no dearth of stories and plots based on Afghan.
Tragedies always made good books and I am hoping that ‘A thousand splendid suns’ will make a good read. After all it’s only human to feel our heart going out of compassion towards fellow human beings.
Tragedies always made good books and I am hoping that ‘A thousand splendid suns’ will make a good read. After all it’s only human to feel our heart going out of compassion towards fellow human beings.
Tuesday, July 03, 2007
Horoscope validation – Do these forecasts make any sense?
“Talking to people with experience may seem the logical thing to do but expect someone to brag and embellish, leading you astray. Rather than basing a decision on hearsay, stick to the truth and the facts.” – announced my horoscope this morning.
Although I am not the type who – first thing in the morning – look up at my everyday horoscope to plan my day accordingly, I accidentally stumbled upon my today’s horoscope. Courtesy, the intranet site at my workplace. Now that I have been predicted with my day’s outcome, I decided to check on it to know if that had a fraction of truth in it.
Frankly, I have nothing against horoscopes or predictions of this kind. In fact, I believe that the prediction of one’s personality based on their sun signs (Linda Goodman’s is the best example) is rather true than the ones being predicted on an everyday basis. I mean can/will somebody sit and predict what the day would be like for all the twelve signs? If yes, can they be trusted upon? I had these and numerous questions of this kind while I pondered the topic.
Meanwhile, my today’s forecast seemed to be very generic on a broader aspect. That seemed to be an advice rather than a forecast of any kind. Have I had the necessity to speak to an experienced ‘individual’ yet today? And the second line is more of a counsel than the first one. Stick to the truth and facts and do not take a decision based on hearsay – an advise worth considering when encountered with mission-critical decision making.
It’s 4.00 in the evening and I’m fretting over the silly fact that my today’s horoscope forecast has not been of any effect to me. Well the advices? Not a need today to be put use to.
Something in me tells me -- there are worthier topics to write and post. There aren’t any shortfall for topics - Nemesis’ docking at the Chennai harbor, probe into Shekawat’s alleged favoritism to withdraw an FIR on his name, publicity stunt and the lucrative money deals in selecting the new 7 wonders, and the monsoon rains that lash Maharashtra and Gujarat.
However, I convince myself saying that it is okay to be negligent today. I begin to think - Am I taking the second part of my horoscope forecast way too seriously?
“Talking to people with experience may seem the logical thing to do but expect someone to brag and embellish, leading you astray. Rather than basing a decision on hearsay, stick to the truth and the facts.” – announced my horoscope this morning.
Although I am not the type who – first thing in the morning – look up at my everyday horoscope to plan my day accordingly, I accidentally stumbled upon my today’s horoscope. Courtesy, the intranet site at my workplace. Now that I have been predicted with my day’s outcome, I decided to check on it to know if that had a fraction of truth in it.
Frankly, I have nothing against horoscopes or predictions of this kind. In fact, I believe that the prediction of one’s personality based on their sun signs (Linda Goodman’s is the best example) is rather true than the ones being predicted on an everyday basis. I mean can/will somebody sit and predict what the day would be like for all the twelve signs? If yes, can they be trusted upon? I had these and numerous questions of this kind while I pondered the topic.
Meanwhile, my today’s forecast seemed to be very generic on a broader aspect. That seemed to be an advice rather than a forecast of any kind. Have I had the necessity to speak to an experienced ‘individual’ yet today? And the second line is more of a counsel than the first one. Stick to the truth and facts and do not take a decision based on hearsay – an advise worth considering when encountered with mission-critical decision making.
It’s 4.00 in the evening and I’m fretting over the silly fact that my today’s horoscope forecast has not been of any effect to me. Well the advices? Not a need today to be put use to.
Something in me tells me -- there are worthier topics to write and post. There aren’t any shortfall for topics - Nemesis’ docking at the Chennai harbor, probe into Shekawat’s alleged favoritism to withdraw an FIR on his name, publicity stunt and the lucrative money deals in selecting the new 7 wonders, and the monsoon rains that lash Maharashtra and Gujarat.
However, I convince myself saying that it is okay to be negligent today. I begin to think - Am I taking the second part of my horoscope forecast way too seriously?
Thursday, June 28, 2007
On a rainy day in Chennai…
The only three seasons prevail in Tamil Nadu are – as they say – hot, hotter, and the hottest. While the entire neighborhood states namely Kerala, Karnataka, and Andhra would be in the grip of heavy monsoon rains and flash floods, Tamil Nadu remains obliviously humid and equally hot as ever. And the monsoon rains circumvent the region –as they always did – save for some border regions of Kerala.
So the respite from the scorching heat only comes from a rare low-pressure formation in the Bay of Bengal or the Arabian Sea. Which brings occasional showers, cool breeze, cloudy skies, and thunder storms (which is very very rare by the way).
Thanks to the low-pressure formations – three now, one after the other in a row – in the Bay of Bengal, Chennai is blissfully out of the sun’s reach for the past three weeks. To top the pleasure up, there are occasional rains and cool breezes. Just enough to maintain the chill and not in excessive amounts to waterlog the streets.
The rain-drenched trees that look bathed and fresh, moist air, the concrete jungle that suddenly spot a swabbed look, the squeakily clean roads and the multihued umbrella heads in the pavements are an uncommon sight for a June Chennai.
Rains in Chennai in June? A rarity though. Coming to think of global warming, I wouldn’t give it a damn if Chennai gets a reprieve from the hot and humid sun in its name.
The only three seasons prevail in Tamil Nadu are – as they say – hot, hotter, and the hottest. While the entire neighborhood states namely Kerala, Karnataka, and Andhra would be in the grip of heavy monsoon rains and flash floods, Tamil Nadu remains obliviously humid and equally hot as ever. And the monsoon rains circumvent the region –as they always did – save for some border regions of Kerala.
So the respite from the scorching heat only comes from a rare low-pressure formation in the Bay of Bengal or the Arabian Sea. Which brings occasional showers, cool breeze, cloudy skies, and thunder storms (which is very very rare by the way).
Thanks to the low-pressure formations – three now, one after the other in a row – in the Bay of Bengal, Chennai is blissfully out of the sun’s reach for the past three weeks. To top the pleasure up, there are occasional rains and cool breezes. Just enough to maintain the chill and not in excessive amounts to waterlog the streets.
The rain-drenched trees that look bathed and fresh, moist air, the concrete jungle that suddenly spot a swabbed look, the squeakily clean roads and the multihued umbrella heads in the pavements are an uncommon sight for a June Chennai.
Rains in Chennai in June? A rarity though. Coming to think of global warming, I wouldn’t give it a damn if Chennai gets a reprieve from the hot and humid sun in its name.
Sunday, June 17, 2007
Space blues – Sunita’s longing to descend home
With Atlantis showing signs of recovering from its thermal bruise, Sunita’s homecoming is finally decided. The space station where Atlantis is docked ran into technical troubles and the computers stopped talking to their counterparts in earth. The Russian scientists were perplexed at this sudden development and had no clue what went wrong because functioning of the computers are crucial since they controlled the oxygen and water supply to the space station.
What would it feel to be aloof from the rest of the world where human life exists - with only a couple of fellow astronauts - trapped in a space station floating in air? I tend to think often. Terribly depressing or a sense of elation that I am actually on top of the world? Either of them would last only a few moments. The depression would perhaps descend as soon as it is realized that there are a few other fellow astronauts in the same plight. And the elation would drain as soon as it ascended giving way to another sense of accomplishment.
It is quite apparent that Sunita has obviously had enough of all these emotions. Visibly thin, in a recent message transmitted to earth, an emotional Sunita expressed her longing to fly back home from her space life.
Imagine a week on earth disengaged from any human contact and a terrible work environment?
Now wouldn’t you want those poor space souls to fly back to earth soon too?
With Atlantis showing signs of recovering from its thermal bruise, Sunita’s homecoming is finally decided. The space station where Atlantis is docked ran into technical troubles and the computers stopped talking to their counterparts in earth. The Russian scientists were perplexed at this sudden development and had no clue what went wrong because functioning of the computers are crucial since they controlled the oxygen and water supply to the space station.
What would it feel to be aloof from the rest of the world where human life exists - with only a couple of fellow astronauts - trapped in a space station floating in air? I tend to think often. Terribly depressing or a sense of elation that I am actually on top of the world? Either of them would last only a few moments. The depression would perhaps descend as soon as it is realized that there are a few other fellow astronauts in the same plight. And the elation would drain as soon as it ascended giving way to another sense of accomplishment.
It is quite apparent that Sunita has obviously had enough of all these emotions. Visibly thin, in a recent message transmitted to earth, an emotional Sunita expressed her longing to fly back home from her space life.
Imagine a week on earth disengaged from any human contact and a terrible work environment?
Now wouldn’t you want those poor space souls to fly back to earth soon too?
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
The Haunting Melody of ‘sealed with a kiss’
It was by sheer accident that I stumbled upon this oldie song. I happened to buy a compilation album – of greatest country hits – from a music store recently. I am familiar with few of the songs in the album but when the CD player reached this track and started playing ‘sealed with a kiss’, my heart was immediately filled with a sharp sense of melancholy.
The tune was just haunting to start with and the song started lingering in my head for a long time since the track was over. Although I haven’t been in a similar situation described in the song and has never heard this one before I still felt nostalgic.
Surprisingly, a brief research on youtube.com presented me with the song’s original video. I also found out that my compilation album had only the cover version and the original was sung by Brian Hyland.
Take a peek at the video in the link given below with speakers / head phones on. Do let me know if (that) you liked it.
http://youtube.com/watch?v=xIkUiD8N81k
It was by sheer accident that I stumbled upon this oldie song. I happened to buy a compilation album – of greatest country hits – from a music store recently. I am familiar with few of the songs in the album but when the CD player reached this track and started playing ‘sealed with a kiss’, my heart was immediately filled with a sharp sense of melancholy.
The tune was just haunting to start with and the song started lingering in my head for a long time since the track was over. Although I haven’t been in a similar situation described in the song and has never heard this one before I still felt nostalgic.
Surprisingly, a brief research on youtube.com presented me with the song’s original video. I also found out that my compilation album had only the cover version and the original was sung by Brian Hyland.
Take a peek at the video in the link given below with speakers / head phones on. Do let me know if (that) you liked it.
http://youtube.com/watch?v=xIkUiD8N81k
Monday, June 11, 2007
Little Miss Sunshine
What would you do if your family is seemingly on the brink of disintegration - the factors being bankruptcy, divorce, suicide, and a death? Little Miss Sunshine is all about holding on to each other when these situations threaten the familial bond.
A family sets on a long distance trip to fulfill the dream of their little daughter to win the pre-pubescent beauty pageant in California, which is 1000 miles away from where they live - Albuquerque. With milk bottle glasses, gaped teeth, and a little paunch the little girl is absolutely no beauty pageant stuff – yet the family decides to support the girl’s dream and sets out on the journey in their near-breaking-down VW bus.
Members of the family are the dad, who hopelessly tries to live on the concepts that he developed called ‘7 steps to success’, the mother who is determined to accomplish her daughter’s dream, the son who has taken a vow of silence until he finds himself in the air force, the ever-badmouthing and reckless drug addict of a grandfather, and the little girl whose attributes we discussed earlier.
As the movie unfolds and the journey unfurls, everyone in the family finds themselves losing out in their battle. Father Richard finds out that he has lost the contract to sell his program after which mom Sheryl threatens him for a divorce. Their son Dwayne finds his air force dream come crashing down when it is discovered that he is colorblind. Adding to the grief, grandfather dies at the motel due to drug overdose.
Nevertheless, the family reaches the pageant venue and manages Olive’s entry. What happens next is absolutely sidesplitting and basically becomes the crux of the movie. Follow your dreams, no matter how extraordinary they may seem. The movie ends with the same note.
Little Miss Sunshine is an adorable movie that is cynical and equally hilarious. It is worth a bet on a leisurely weekend and has melting moments coupled with heartwarming sequences that are sure to put a smile across your face. After all, life is all about putting up with the failures while still hoping that there is light at the end of the tunnel.
What would you do if your family is seemingly on the brink of disintegration - the factors being bankruptcy, divorce, suicide, and a death? Little Miss Sunshine is all about holding on to each other when these situations threaten the familial bond.
A family sets on a long distance trip to fulfill the dream of their little daughter to win the pre-pubescent beauty pageant in California, which is 1000 miles away from where they live - Albuquerque. With milk bottle glasses, gaped teeth, and a little paunch the little girl is absolutely no beauty pageant stuff – yet the family decides to support the girl’s dream and sets out on the journey in their near-breaking-down VW bus.
Members of the family are the dad, who hopelessly tries to live on the concepts that he developed called ‘7 steps to success’, the mother who is determined to accomplish her daughter’s dream, the son who has taken a vow of silence until he finds himself in the air force, the ever-badmouthing and reckless drug addict of a grandfather, and the little girl whose attributes we discussed earlier.
As the movie unfolds and the journey unfurls, everyone in the family finds themselves losing out in their battle. Father Richard finds out that he has lost the contract to sell his program after which mom Sheryl threatens him for a divorce. Their son Dwayne finds his air force dream come crashing down when it is discovered that he is colorblind. Adding to the grief, grandfather dies at the motel due to drug overdose.
Nevertheless, the family reaches the pageant venue and manages Olive’s entry. What happens next is absolutely sidesplitting and basically becomes the crux of the movie. Follow your dreams, no matter how extraordinary they may seem. The movie ends with the same note.
Little Miss Sunshine is an adorable movie that is cynical and equally hilarious. It is worth a bet on a leisurely weekend and has melting moments coupled with heartwarming sequences that are sure to put a smile across your face. After all, life is all about putting up with the failures while still hoping that there is light at the end of the tunnel.
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
Tu Tu Main Main Live – Yuvaraj Vs Yuvaraj
Yuvaraj has been asked to appear in the Gurgaon court in an assault case allegedly happened on the night of December 12 during Yuvi’s birthday bash. While this appeared to be just another piece of news for us, Headlines Today thought otherwise.
They decided to host a special program on the case with participations from Neelam Mahajan – the victim’s mother – her not-so (read ‘at all’)-outspoken lawyer and Shabnam Singh – Yuvi’s mom. What followed was a literal ‘tu tu main main’ type war of words, mostly from Neelam. Well, she claimed to be a journalist for twenty long years and it definitely shows.
Shabnam’s conversation – whenever she started with a sentence – was invariably hijacked by Neelam and at one point in the midst of the chaotic mayhem, Shabnam accuses Neelam of being a publicity hunter. There goes Gujjar Singh – the host – adding fuel to the fire by asking Neelam what her reply was to the publicity-hunt accusation.
Rest of the half an hour was a pandemonium mostly lead by the overpowering Neelam. When it was revealed that Neelam had agreed for a settlement to withdraw the case earlier, she went ballistic yet again – this time accusing the channel for defaming her and her family.
Finally, the ugly spat turned uglier when she decided to walk away from the studios while the camera was still rolling. She did not forget to forcibly remove the microphone out of her lawyer’s shirt before taking him – actually drag him to be precise – out of the studio.
All this time, the lawyer did not utter a single word and seemed perplexed. Poor thing.
Talk about soaps and the unrealistic saas / bahus clad heavily in designer saris and salwars that occupy prime time television. Fact is stranger than fiction.
Yuvaraj has been asked to appear in the Gurgaon court in an assault case allegedly happened on the night of December 12 during Yuvi’s birthday bash. While this appeared to be just another piece of news for us, Headlines Today thought otherwise.
They decided to host a special program on the case with participations from Neelam Mahajan – the victim’s mother – her not-so (read ‘at all’)-outspoken lawyer and Shabnam Singh – Yuvi’s mom. What followed was a literal ‘tu tu main main’ type war of words, mostly from Neelam. Well, she claimed to be a journalist for twenty long years and it definitely shows.
Shabnam’s conversation – whenever she started with a sentence – was invariably hijacked by Neelam and at one point in the midst of the chaotic mayhem, Shabnam accuses Neelam of being a publicity hunter. There goes Gujjar Singh – the host – adding fuel to the fire by asking Neelam what her reply was to the publicity-hunt accusation.
Rest of the half an hour was a pandemonium mostly lead by the overpowering Neelam. When it was revealed that Neelam had agreed for a settlement to withdraw the case earlier, she went ballistic yet again – this time accusing the channel for defaming her and her family.
Finally, the ugly spat turned uglier when she decided to walk away from the studios while the camera was still rolling. She did not forget to forcibly remove the microphone out of her lawyer’s shirt before taking him – actually drag him to be precise – out of the studio.
All this time, the lawyer did not utter a single word and seemed perplexed. Poor thing.
Talk about soaps and the unrealistic saas / bahus clad heavily in designer saris and salwars that occupy prime time television. Fact is stranger than fiction.
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Yet another good-bye…
Parting can be painful at times. For all we take to your grave is not any material wealth during the course of our living time in earth, but only some memories – sweet and cherishing, one would wish. I recently had to bid goodbye to my colleagues at work. The reason is obvious. I was leaving the company and them for what I considered was a better offer worth considering.
It was before I became bedridden for appendectomy – for a couple of weeks – that I decided to submit my resignation. Apparently, my boss did not want this to be revealed to anybody in the team and wanted me to be tight-lipped. Which, in all my earnest I did, save for a few colleagues whom I consider my friends. After all, workplace is where you spend most of the time of your life. The two weeks of bed rest after my appendectomy gave me a break from work and my colleagues were unmindful of the fact that I was not going back to work with them.
So when matters had to be resolved, I was in an embarrassing situation while visiting my workplace for separation formalities. People had no clue why I was at work when I was supposed to be bed ridden. And news – as invariably as it happens in these situations – seems to have spread and my next cubicle colleague was like -- Prathap you never told me that? It was quite palpable that they weren’t officially informed about my departure and that they garnered something fishy happening with my visit.
Then came the time to bid goodbye. Although I was only working for a brief period of time (I hope I can consider 8 months a brief period), the close-knit atmosphere prevailed at my workplace made me feel home quite often. Large number of female population in the bay perhaps could be attributed to this sentiment.
The next few minutes were filled with perpetual ‘all the bests’, ‘all the very bests’, ‘keep in touches’, exchange of email ids and telephone numbers.
I am not sure as to how many will remain in my memory, how many will be in touch with me for a long time or how long I will have the impact of parting with them.
Nevertheless, it is indeed a difficult feeling to part with something – the atmosphere, the people and the facilities – you have grown used to. Otherwise, life goes on and here I’m all set for a new life that involved making new friends and enemies, gelling with my new workplace, and of course taking on challenges.
Wish me luck oh Lord…
Parting can be painful at times. For all we take to your grave is not any material wealth during the course of our living time in earth, but only some memories – sweet and cherishing, one would wish. I recently had to bid goodbye to my colleagues at work. The reason is obvious. I was leaving the company and them for what I considered was a better offer worth considering.
It was before I became bedridden for appendectomy – for a couple of weeks – that I decided to submit my resignation. Apparently, my boss did not want this to be revealed to anybody in the team and wanted me to be tight-lipped. Which, in all my earnest I did, save for a few colleagues whom I consider my friends. After all, workplace is where you spend most of the time of your life. The two weeks of bed rest after my appendectomy gave me a break from work and my colleagues were unmindful of the fact that I was not going back to work with them.
So when matters had to be resolved, I was in an embarrassing situation while visiting my workplace for separation formalities. People had no clue why I was at work when I was supposed to be bed ridden. And news – as invariably as it happens in these situations – seems to have spread and my next cubicle colleague was like -- Prathap you never told me that? It was quite palpable that they weren’t officially informed about my departure and that they garnered something fishy happening with my visit.
Then came the time to bid goodbye. Although I was only working for a brief period of time (I hope I can consider 8 months a brief period), the close-knit atmosphere prevailed at my workplace made me feel home quite often. Large number of female population in the bay perhaps could be attributed to this sentiment.
The next few minutes were filled with perpetual ‘all the bests’, ‘all the very bests’, ‘keep in touches’, exchange of email ids and telephone numbers.
I am not sure as to how many will remain in my memory, how many will be in touch with me for a long time or how long I will have the impact of parting with them.
Nevertheless, it is indeed a difficult feeling to part with something – the atmosphere, the people and the facilities – you have grown used to. Otherwise, life goes on and here I’m all set for a new life that involved making new friends and enemies, gelling with my new workplace, and of course taking on challenges.
Wish me luck oh Lord…
Thursday, May 17, 2007
My date with scrubs
Never in my wildest thoughts would I have thought about a surgery on me – one that has to be performed urgently at that. Well, strange things happen all the time, they say – and I wished it not happened on a Saturday night though.
At first I did not pay proper attention to the sharp pangs in my lower abdomen on that Saturday evening. Since I had to go out with one of my friends to visit another common friend’s casual wear shop. The pain got intense at the shop making the situation embarrassing for me. For I couldn’t stand, sit, or even worse take a look at the clothing line.
Rushing to the nearby hospital, I begged the doctor to give me a shot of painkiller. The painkiller showed its might for another 10 long hours before which I was scanned and diagnosed of having ‘appendicitis’. ‘If the pain subsided you can postpone the surgery till your next attack,’ the doctor suggested. However, as it turned out to be, the effect of the painkiller subsided and my pain reappeared in the wee hours of a Sunday morning.
What followed was a one-hour long surgery inside the operation theatre over the musings and chitter-chatter of the anesthetic, the surgeon and the instructions passed on to the nurses. The anesthetic gossiped about the excess staff of anesthetics in a fellow hospital, the surgeon about the increase in cases of appendicitis and blaming the changing food habits, and the general physician about her independent business.
I was quite sure that none of them were oblivious of the fact that I was still awake. Earlier, before being dissected, I was given a shot of some drug in the spine that made me feel numb from the lower part of my body. It is a strange feeling, I tell ya, to be aware and not have a feeling of your body part being sliced up.
I regained my senses soon after and had to ask the nurses to give another shot of painkiller, this time to kill the pain of being operated. I was under observation for a couple of days after that with only intravenous fluid being injected into my veins.
What followed afterwards was loads of advises, friendly visits by neighbors and friends, and scar with 6 sutures in my lower abdomen. With what started as an acute pain ended up as a scar.
Two days later, when I was shown the specimen that was operated out of my intestine, the nurse said, “It is quite long and would have erupted if you hadn’t been operated at the right time.” Whoa, I didn’t want that to happen.
As I gazed at the curly, white and fleshy thing inside a fluid (formaldehyde?) I thought within - What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.
Never in my wildest thoughts would I have thought about a surgery on me – one that has to be performed urgently at that. Well, strange things happen all the time, they say – and I wished it not happened on a Saturday night though.
At first I did not pay proper attention to the sharp pangs in my lower abdomen on that Saturday evening. Since I had to go out with one of my friends to visit another common friend’s casual wear shop. The pain got intense at the shop making the situation embarrassing for me. For I couldn’t stand, sit, or even worse take a look at the clothing line.
Rushing to the nearby hospital, I begged the doctor to give me a shot of painkiller. The painkiller showed its might for another 10 long hours before which I was scanned and diagnosed of having ‘appendicitis’. ‘If the pain subsided you can postpone the surgery till your next attack,’ the doctor suggested. However, as it turned out to be, the effect of the painkiller subsided and my pain reappeared in the wee hours of a Sunday morning.
What followed was a one-hour long surgery inside the operation theatre over the musings and chitter-chatter of the anesthetic, the surgeon and the instructions passed on to the nurses. The anesthetic gossiped about the excess staff of anesthetics in a fellow hospital, the surgeon about the increase in cases of appendicitis and blaming the changing food habits, and the general physician about her independent business.
I was quite sure that none of them were oblivious of the fact that I was still awake. Earlier, before being dissected, I was given a shot of some drug in the spine that made me feel numb from the lower part of my body. It is a strange feeling, I tell ya, to be aware and not have a feeling of your body part being sliced up.
I regained my senses soon after and had to ask the nurses to give another shot of painkiller, this time to kill the pain of being operated. I was under observation for a couple of days after that with only intravenous fluid being injected into my veins.
What followed afterwards was loads of advises, friendly visits by neighbors and friends, and scar with 6 sutures in my lower abdomen. With what started as an acute pain ended up as a scar.
Two days later, when I was shown the specimen that was operated out of my intestine, the nurse said, “It is quite long and would have erupted if you hadn’t been operated at the right time.” Whoa, I didn’t want that to happen.
As I gazed at the curly, white and fleshy thing inside a fluid (formaldehyde?) I thought within - What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
