Someone Like You

I just had this uncontrollable urge to write about the special someone in my life. Not that anyone would be interested, seeing as this blog here had two hits last month, one when I checked to see if it had undergone disuse atrophy, and another when my niece hit the keyboard when I was not looking. OK, back to the topic. This post is about the nicest human being I know, the person I love the most in this world, myself*.

1. I cannot stand black umbrellas. In fact, I find all single colour umbrellas unappealing, but black is particularly disliked.



2. My umbrella features a skinny girl with long braided hair and a messenger bag slung across her body cycling to Marseilles.

3. This often leads to speculation that the girl on my umbrella is me. It is not. My hair is much longer, mine is an excursion bag, I have never been to France (although I would love to someday) and I cannot ride.

4. Yes, I cannot ride a bicycle. Or any other two-wheeler, for that matter.

5. Speaking of bags, I am not much of a handbag person.

6. I love rice.

7. I hate the great big ball of fire in the sky.

8. I think geckos are kinda cute.

9. Despite being a Hindu, I relish the cooked flesh of dead cows.

10. I cannot pose for a picture properly.


11. I often cannot recall what I have said just seconds earlier.

12. I am sorely tempted to poke people who say 'OMG, don't you eat anything at all?' in the eye with a 16 gauge needle. No, I just stand outside and inhale the scents during mealtimes. Retards.

13. I am not entirely sure if I am superstitious about the rahukaalam. But I strongly believe in putting off everything that can be put off for as long as possible.

14. My least favourite dress style is the one that I am forced to wear most often.

15. I read an abridged comic book version of Dracula when I was eleven, and I still have nightmares about the Count. And now I really wish I hadn't performed a Google image search for 'Dracula'.

16. In general, I don't care for clothes or jewellery much. When my friends talk about 'that blue dress with tiny yellow flowers' they wore 'that day' with 'the silver and blue earrings', I will smile and nod, but I will have no idea what they are talking about.


17. Shoes are my Achilles heel.

18. Either there is something significantly wrong with me, or I am a hypochondriac.

19. I am a borderline misanthrope.

20. I have never seen Sholay.

21. I don't like the colour pink.

22. I don't own any nail polish, but there is always a bottle of nail polish remover on my dresser.

23. There is a mole on my left forearm that was not there last year.

24. I am the proverbial 'will not hurt a fly' kind of person, and will go to a lot of trouble to save an ant from a watery grave in the sink, but I can dig up no compassion for mosquitoes.

25. I love to play with words and numbers in my head.

*Not quite who you were expecting, eh?

In A Pail, Obviously

My niece turns two in a few weeks' time. Here she is, doing one of her favourite things, posing for a picture.


She also loves to tell stories. Here is one of her masterpieces.

Me: Vava, oru katha parayu. (Vava, tell me a story.)
Her: Jack veenu. Jill-um veenu. (Jack fell. Jill also fell.)
Me: Ayyo engane? (*expression of shock* How?)
Her: Vellam ekkan poyappo. (When they went to fetch water).
Me: Oh.
Her: Vava guggirl! Clap!
Me: OK, Vava good girl. *claps*

Other favourite things do include raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens, which is magically useful in keeping her still for a while.

Hakuna Matata!

I realise I have not posted anything on this blog, even though I promised I would after my exams ended. It's been over a month since that wonderful event, and my promise has not been kept. So unlike me to not post, don't you think? Don't believe me? Look at the archives.

I have been watching lots of movies on DVD, sleeping, reading, sleeping, eating, sleeping, lazing around, and in my free time, I sleep. This problem-free life made think of two of my favourite people, and look, here they are!


I saw this picture, and all I could think was, the guy in the car is standing downwind.

Time Travel

Only a week and a half before I die. Apologies in advance for not posting in the next few weeks.

Wedding Invite

I seem to have run out of topics to write about.

All right, I lied. I have not run out of topics, but that sounds better than whining about how I have so much to study that I have no time to breathe. It's old. So I stole this, I know not from whom. It's been around for a while. Apologies to non-medicos.

We, Mrs and Mr Aorta-Brachiocephalic Arch

Cordially invite your esteemed presence and blessings

with family on the occasion of the marriage of our son

Sublclavian Artery

With

Internal Jugular Vein

(Daughter of Mrs Inferior Petrosal Sinus and Mr Sigmoid Sinus)

At Posterior Triangular Hall, lateral to Sternocleidomastoid Plaza,

Prevertebral Block

Cervical Highway 7

And for the reception thereafter at their residence at

Apartment C6

Fascia Colli Buildings

Neck Nagar

Head

PIN Code: C567

Kindly avoid presents

Anatomical accuracy be damned.

My Best Friend Was An Elephant Even After He Lost Weight

Three months. Three whole months during which all the readers of this blog sat around like someone died. Mope no more, my (imaginary) readers, I have returned. And this time, it's no Friday Five or meme, it's flashback time!

When I was seven, we lived in this place that was next to a huge building owned by a temple. During festival season, the temple authorities would tether their elephants there, and I just had to look out my window to see them (the elephants, not the temple authorities) eat their palm leaves and pee like a waterfall.

One of these elephants, I called him Ramu, was my best friend. I would stand at the window and talk to my him, and he would nod his head in agreement. (I learnt later that he would nod his head even when he disagreed, and also when he was asleep. What can I say? I was stupid.) We would talk for hours, and in the evening, my Dad and I would go visit him, and I would take gifts for him. Like maybe half a peanut or so. (Hey, I may have been stupid, but I knew my priorities.) Ramu's paapaan (mahout) would hold it out to him, and Ramu would reach out with his trunk and put in his mouth. And then he would smile and wink at me. (I also possessed a hyperactive imagination. Still do, to be honest, which is why I cannot sleep without a night light. Well, that and nyctophobia.)

He would leave at the end of the festival season, and it always seemed to me that he too was crying. My mom bought me a lot of books to console me, and when I read that the Indian elephant is the closest surviving relative of the woolly mammoth, I cried all the harder. I missed my only friend. So I improvised.

Thus it came to be, that my Mom came home from work one day to find me sitting on top of the wall, talking to Ramu. Only Ramu had left a few days ago. Curious, she leaned over the wall, and nearly fell over laughing.


Like I said, I wasn't too bright those days.

Picture Perfect

I seem to do nothing but Friday Fives and tags on this blog. I swear, it's not that I can't find things to write about, it's because I am lazy. Anyway, no one reads this blog, so it's not like anyone gives a damn.

I found this tag here, and it looked interesting.

How to and what to :
1. You are given a set of questions.
2. Google the image which best suits the answer and post a picture from first page of image search with minimal explanation.
3. After you finish tag 6 other blogger friends and let them know.

Now that we are clear on that, let's start.

1. Your age on your next birthday


He looks an awful lot like Pintsize. Now that birthdays are all about growing another year older, I am going to swear like Pintsize at anyone who dares to wish me "Happy Birthday". I meant Yelling Bird, not Pintsize.


2. A place you’d like to travel to


Corfu, Greece.

3. Your favourite place


Shillong, Meghalaya.

4. Your favourite food/drink


My favourite food changes all the time, but my favourite drink doesn't.

5. Your favourite pet


6. Your favourite colour combination


7. Your favourite piece of clothing


It's not clothing, technically speaking, but you can see pictures of cute shirts any day, whereas Chloe is rarer, don't you agree? No? OK, then, here are some shirts.

I could kill for the one on the right.

8. Your all time favourite song


God, I LOVE this song. I just melt when Justin Hayward starts singing. Which is probably not the most appropriate thing to say on the Internet, but it's not like people are reading this.

9. Your favourite TV show


10. Full name of your significant other

Not applicable.
:(

11. The town in which you live


I spend more time here than I do at home.

12. Your screen name/nickname


That is one of the most disturbing images I have ever seen.

13. Your first job

You are required to travel at least 8 months in the future for this to be true.

14. Your Dream Job


15. Bad Habit you have


16. Your worst fear


I am nyctophobic. Very much so.

17. The one thing you would like to do before you die

The Metropolitan Opera House, New York.

18. The first thing you’ll buy if you get $1,000,000


19. Your favourite credo in life

I am not tagging anyone. You can take it up if you want to.

The Friday Five: Totally Wasted

After stuffing myself to the gills during Christmas, I went back to college and promptly resumed doing nothing. As always, nothing happens, and this is why you, beloved reader, are being treated to a monologue on how I waste my time, courtesy Friday Five. You can thank me later. And read carefully, I will ask questions at the end. (This is how our teachers start a class.)

1. What is your biggest waste of time in your home?

My textbooks*. I hit the books the minute I get home, and keep at it until I take a shower. I get back to the books before my hair dries, and stay with them until dinnertime. I check my email (you have no new messages), and return to wrestling with the textbooks, until I need toothpicks to keep my eyes open. The trouble with this is, the bigger ones hit me back, and all of them weigh more than I do. And yesterday I found out I was actually supposed to open them and read, not keep bashing them. Ah, woe is me!

2. When at work, what is the activity that you find wastes the most time?

Classes. They just want to protect the lecture halls from becoming termite food, and we provide the perfect solution.

3. When getting busy with a date or significant other, what ritual could you do without?

The 'date' or the 'significant other' not showing up. Never have either of them presented themselves before me. *sigh*

4. What is the biggest waste of time on the Internet?

The Internet is not a waste of time. And StumbleUpon is not addictive.


5. What do you do at a restaurant to waste time when waiting for your meal?
That is what cell phones are for, if friends are unavailable. At the college canteen (eating there is the easiest way to poison yourself), a commentary about the varying expressions of pain on the other patrons' faces is called for, until our meal arrives and we make our own faces. If we are at some swanky place (at the expense of some individual unlucky enough to be born, and thus, have a birthday) and we don't get a table, a graphic description of the vaginal hysterectomy we saw that day (or many years previously) in a loud voice does the trick. After we have ordered our meal (an hour long process, involving much name calling and arguing), we consider it our duty to remind the sponsor about the complex process known as ageing, and the diseases associated with it. It is soon followed by someone (there is always somebody who does this) remarking that if we went around to the back, we would see our waiter energetically pursuing a chicken, which is the prompt for the others to make similar imbecile comments about the waiter venturing out to sea with a fishing line or sacrificing goats. We continue in this line, until the smells from the next table reach us, and all of us practise breathing exercises. Pictures of the 'Birthday Grandpa/Grandma' and their 'friends' in different crazy poses are snapped, and then, having nothing else to do, we start telling jokes, with punchlines like, 'he wanted to see the butter fly'. In the ensuing uproar, the rest of the patrons walk out giving us dirty looks, and the waiters ask us to leave the premises. We refuse to leave on empty stomachs, and we are served our food in record time.

Ooh, Arch has a birthday in a couple of weeks. Yay! On second thoughts, I think we may have run out of restaurants where we don't have a lifetime ban.

Those of you who did not die of sleep apnoea, answer this: Why did the boy throw his toast out the window?

God, I am SO funny.

*Lucky for me my Mom does not read my blog. Neither does the rest of the world, but that is beside the point.

Friday Five Archives: Books!

I had planned on doing a Friday Five, but they haven't yet updated the ones for this week, so you now get the inside story on my favourite books. Haha, I made a pun. A weak one, to be sure, but one pun is better than no pun.

I was tagged by Sumana a really long time ago. It has to do with books, and is similar to today's Friday Five, but lazy bugger that I am, I will do it some other time.

The Friday Five!

1. Who is your favourite author?
Oo, toughie. If they mean the author whose books entertains me the most, that would be the Queen of Crime. Sure, they are fun, and all that, but her writing seems rather unoriginal to me, and her characters feel one dimensional. On the other hand, Gerald Durrell's books are sheer poetry. Even his animals are full of character in a way Miss Marple can never be. But I have been bored by some of his books, so I refuse to label him my favourite author. If it has to be an author who has never bored me, Richmal Crompton gets the grand prize. William Brown is one guy who can always make me laugh out really loud. More like cackle wildly, to be honest. So Richmal Crompton is my favourite author. And Richard Gordon, and Roald Dahl. They are my 3 R's.


2. What is your favourite book/series?
The Harry Potter series. Not. Yes, I love the books, but, I did not like the ending. You hear that, J K Rowling? The Bartimaeus trilogy depressed me, and the Wheel of Time got really boring after a while. Ah, I have got it- Asterix! Goscinny and Uderzo are geniuses. Remember the legionary named Gluteus Maximus? It began to make more sense after I became a medico.


3. Who is a book hero you most wish to be like?
Anne Shirley. She has brilliant gray eyes, long thick hair, an imagination, queenishness and she got Gilbert. Everybody likes her, and she knows Joseph.
You don't blame me, do you?


4. Who is a book character that you envy?
This one is really easy- any romance novel heroine. They are all gorgeous and intelligent, everything goes perfectly for them, and they get to live happily ever after.
"Fiercely dedicated medical student Anna Whitfield couldn't have been less suited to become Daniel MacGregor's submissive, heir-producing wife even if she'd tried. So why was the arrogant self-made millionaire moving heaven and earth to prove she was his perfect mate?"
Um, Mr. Millionaire? I am single. Just saying...


5. Which book do you wished you lived in?
Any book written by Alexander McCall Smith. There is something delightful about his characters and the idealised world they inhabit. Even the most terrible occurrences are trivialised, and the people handle it well.

So, now you have it. I hope you have a great 2009, in which you will all tell me about your favourite ones. I promise to blog more next year.


UPDATE: Turns out this week's Friday Five was about books, and is quite similar to the one I have done here. And then I got all tempted, and here are my answers.

1. Do you enjoy reading?
No, I do not. If I have ever led you to think that I do, I lied.
Man, really dumb question.

2. What is the first book you remember reading?
The Secret Garden, by Frances Hodgson Burnett. I was about seven at the time, and my Dad was in the hospital having his first heart attack. My aunt had very kindly taken me away from the hospital during the day, and I thanked her by raiding her library. Other books I 'borrowed' during the same time include The Five Have Plenty of Fun, and a Nancy Drew, The Whispering Statue. This is one of my favourite childhood memories. Even the hospital bit, we came through that pretty OK.

3.Who is your favourite author?
You are really lucky, you know. I am not going to answer that again. Please do not allow your sigh of relief to blow stuff away.

4. What is your favourite book?
See previous answer.

5. What is the last book you read and the first you'll read next?
The last one was Sue Townsend's Number 10, which wasn't as funny as the cover claimed to be. The next one is Davidson's Principles and Practice of Medicine. I have exams in February!

This was more like Friday Ten, or more accurately, Friday Five and Saturday Three.

Yes, I am leaving now. For real.

P.S. I got bored with the template.

Auscultate, O Heart

I found this tag at Sayesha's, and since it looked like fun and I have not blogged in the last three months, this is your lucky day.

These are the rules:
1. Put your music player on Shuffle mode.
2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer.
3. Write the song name no matter what it is.
4. After you've answered all of the questions, tag 5 other people and let them know they've been tagged.

Before I begin, let me tell you that I have weird taste in music (and clothes, too, come to think of it). Queries along the lines of "you actually listen to that crap?" will receive a lesson on the indecencies of the enquirer's ancestors. Consider this a statutory warning. Wow, I used "statutory warning" in a sentence. My, what, language skills, are, like, getting, y'know, better. I mean, like, wow.

1. If someone says "Is this okay?", you say:
Come as you are, as you were
As I want you to be
Hey, that would have been appropriate if my usual response wasn't "What crapped on it?"

2. What would best describe your personality?
She's got you high and you don't even know yet
The sun's in the sky, it's warming up your bare legs
I would love to meet whoever is singing this about me. He (note the masculine pronoun) better be handsome. And rich. And not given to airing his bare legs in public.

3. What do you like in a guy/girl?
He's everything you want
He's everything you need
He's everything inside of you
That you wish you could be
That is the chorus. I had to use that because I couldn't make any sense out of
Somewhere there's speaking
It's already coming in.
The girl, well, she means nothing to me, and I don't know why.

4. How do you feel today?
I'm not like them
But I can pretend
The sun is gone
But I have a light
The day is done
But I'm having fun
I think I'm dumb
Or maybe just happy
I feel a little nauseous, to be honest, so happy I am not. I guess I was dumb to eat all that shellfish for dinner.

5. What is your life's purpose?
Young teacher, the subject
Of schoolgirl fantasy
She wants him so badly
Knows what she wants to be
*pointedly stares in the opposite direction*
For those who know me, this is highly inaccurate. I repeat, inaccurate. As in, not true. I cannot emphasise that enough.
For those who are in on my deepest, darkest secrets, isn't this ridiculous?

6. What do your friends think of you?
Si ella te hace falta
Como el agua
Si es tu mayor necesidad
That is the Spanish version of Have You Ever Really Loved a Woman. Jeez, my friends secretly wonder if I am gay? I have said this before, and I am saying it again, the answer is NO. N-O. No. Nicht. Nahi. Non. Nein. A very emphatic no.

7. What do you think of your parents?
Come to decide that the things that I tried
Were in my life just to get high on
Reminds me of this.

8. What do you think about very often?
To really love a woman, to understand her
You gotta know it deep inside.
Holy shit. This is NOT funny.

9. What is 2+2?
Such a feelin's comin' over me
There is wonder in most everything I see
Nah. Let's see the next one.
The wise man said
Just walk this way
To the dawn of the light.
And forget about stupid Math problems.

10. What do you think of your best friend?
Talk to me softly, there is
Something in your eyes
Don't bend your head in sorrow
And please don't cry
Yeah, I won't let her cry tonight. Because she has a bad cold and went to bed early.

11. What do you think of the person you like?
Uske siwa, kuchh yaad nahi [I think of nothing but him]
Uske siwa, koi baat nahi [I talk of nothing else but him]
This would be true if I did have a crush on someone at the moment. I don't.
For those in on my deepest, darkest, secrets, *giggle*

12. What is your life story?
Love of mine
Someday you will die
But I'll be close behind
And follow you into the dark
He is going to die before we meet? And I have nothing to fear because I am going to die too? I knew the world was coming to an end.

13. What do you want to be when you grow up?
We passed upon the stairs
Spoke of was and when
I am going to sell the world. The one that is going to end soon. Take that, suckers!

14. What do you think of when you see the person you like?
Kyun aaj kal neend kam khwab zyada hai [I wonder why I dream more and sleep less now]
Lagta khuda ka koi nek irada hai [I think the Big Guy has something in store for me]
*giggle*
On a more cynical note, I think the song is more about indigestion.

15. What do your parents think of you?
Take a bow
The night is over
This masquerade is
Getting older
Now my parents want me to leave home. How can they even think such a thing? I have no money, no job, no other place to live. When I sell the world, they go too.

16. What will you dance to at your wedding?
It's good news week
Someone's dropped a bomb somewhere
Contaminating atmosphere
And blackening the sky
It's been wonderful, love, and we are going to live happily ever after, just the two of us. Because everyone else is dead.

17. What will they play at your funeral?
She's got a smile that it seems to me
It reminds me of childhood memories
If only they would stare long enough to break down and cry. It would be better if they all stopped laughing until after I get cremated.

18. What is your hobby/interest?
Somewhere over the rainbow
Way up high
There's a land that I've heard of
Once in a lullaby
Yes, I am dreaming of a land where there are no exams.

19. What is your biggest secret?
Soy un hombre muy honrado,
Que me gusta lo mejor
Las mujeres no me faltan,
Ni el dinero, ni el amor
Uh-oh. Now everybody knows that I am really Antonio Banderas. That is not good.

20. What do you think of your friends?
Dancing bears, painted wings
Things I almost remember
In a strange way, this is probably about long lost friends from kindergarten.

21. What should you post this as?
Listen with your heart
You will understand
That will teach you to laugh at my misfortunes. This is the solemn cry of my heart, et cetera.
Hence the title.

22. What do you think about this tag?
When the night is still
And the sea is calm
Lonely shadow
You'll fall upon me.
Lay by my side
Fear not tonight
Lonely shadow
You'll find a new light.
WTF? I am guessing that the lyricist was high on crack.

I have skipped all the instrumental ones. Otherwise my biggest secret would have been the Four Seasons. Which is not really something to be ashamed of. It shows I have good taste. HA!

And now, I tag, well, no one. The nausea is getting worse, and I think I'll go find out how my intestines look like floating in the toilet.

UPDATE: Not that anyone reads the blog, but I felt compelled to put this in. The nausea I kept talking about? Was bad. Very bad. And the vomiting that followed was even worse. I nearly died of shellfish poisoning. I am out of the hospital, where they did every conceivable test on me to rule out saxitoxin poisoning, which I had never heard of before. And the bill. Oh, lord, the bill! Anyway, I am fine now, and (almost) completely recovered. So yay.

Raw Facts

When I was at school, we used to have tests on subjects General Knowledge and Art. Yes, ART. The same thing Renoir did. They used to give us a theme, and we would have to draw a picture about it. This was one of the few subjects I was terrible at, apart from the Social Sciences. (Seriously, what is the point in learning about the Battle of 1142 in 1999?). I could not (and still cannot) draw a straight line which has less than 4 curves.

This particular exam, the theme was "Farmer in a Field". Everybody was happy. Except for me, that is. I suck at drawing people. No, really. My stick figures need identifying labels. The field part was all right, pour green paint over the canvas, and it would be done. The farmer was the hard part.

Using my innate cleverness that serves me to this day, I devoted one corner of the canvas to a tree (green paint for the leafy bit and brown for the trunk), and had a ladder lean against it. The farmer was up the tree, and thus was hidden from view.

GK wasn't quite so bad. Most of the questions were along the lines of "Who is the current Prime Minister of India?" and "Who won the Booker Prize for The God of Small Things?", but sometimes they would throw in bombs like "Should Sachin Tendulkar be made the captain of the Indian cricket team? Write at least 200 words on the subject", which could induce fits of hysterics in cricket allergics like me. I would usually manage a B on these, and sometimes even a B+, if there were more of the Prime Minister type questions than the Sachin Tendulkar types. But the most unforgettable exam was the one that I topped. I remember just one question from that exam, and this was it.

Question: What is India's intelligence agency known as?

Answer: Research and Analysis Wing.

Obviously, there was no way I would know that. And thus was born, the Spying Corporation of India. If only I was making this stuff up.

When Darkness Falls

Midnight hour.
The clock struck twelve.

Twelve (who was the Empire in disguise) struck back, and the fight that ensued is still talked about by the hallway. Unsurprisingly, neither The Clock nor Twelve noticed a being stealthily sneaking into the house through the window.

The dog (the bitch!) exhibited very curious behaviour that night. It ran away with the hot dog next door, never to be heard of again.

Adorable Pancreas (AP) woke up clutching her chest. She had had Garlic Chicken (GC) for dinner, and it was now burning her heart. AP wanted to sleep. GC did not like her plans. And her heart was becoming crisper. AP decided to throw cold water on GC's plans, and got up. Suddenly, a shadow detached itself from the wall and fell upon AP. Before she could scream, the shadow had clamped her mouth shut. And screamed and withdrew its hand.

AP's burning heart broke speed records. She reached for the trusty torch which lived under her pillow, and managed to turn its bright beam onto her assailant's face. AP screamed. Dracula screamed louder. The torch fell to the ground and died an untimely death. AP switched on the light.

It was all a GC-induced dream.

I am scared of vampires. And things that go bump in the night. But vampires, most of all. I can deny their existence in the daytime. But sometimes, I believe in as many as six impossible things once the lights are out.

Thus, I find myself thinking about Vlad a lot. Especially at night. And then it hit me. The Impaler is Pale!

This should be impossible, but then, the lights were switched off. I turned it over in my mind, and when it was done to a golden brown colour, the solution came to me. AIDS!

The virus is transmitted through infected blood, but it has to be transfused. Undead physiology is probably very different from ours, so drinking blood probably could transmit the infection.

To be honest, it could be cancer, but I'm placing my bets on AIDS, and I shall now tell you why.

*He is pale. But his diet consists exclusively of blood. So his being anaemic is a little hard to digest. If anything, he should have a ruddy complexion. Iron overload, haemochromatomosis, bronze diabetes, yes. Anaemia? Hell, no. Phir kyon?

*He looks emaciated and cachexic. But he doesn't have that dying look in his eye. If anything, he has a wicked gleam in his eye. Of course, that is one of the occupational hazards of becoming a vampire.

*He has definitely had exposure. Contrary to popular belief, Rock Hudson *drool* required blood transfusions after a close enounter of the blood kind with good ol' Dracs. Vlad liked his taste so much he flew down to Pennsylvania all the way from Transylvania three times a week to drink Hudson. And you know the rest. May his soul rest in peace, although I doubt it.

*Unprotected blood meals. As far as I know, he does not screenthe blood for HIV, syphilis, malaria and the others. The technical problems would be enough to discourage him, even if he were to consider ruling out infections. Would you give him a sample so he could test your blood before attacking you?

Now you know. All I can tell you is, protect yourself. With garlic. And wolfsbane.

Coming soon, If pink is the new black, should I do a Tonks?

Conversation

Me: Take the right turn near the red building.
Big Brother (although born well before 1984): Which one?
Me: The RED building.
BB (he plays the blues sometimes, but he’s no King, either): It has streets on either side.
Me: The distal one. The proximal one goes to the supermarket.
BB: Funny how medical lingo creeps in all the time.
Me: I don’t do that as much as you.
BB: You do it oftener than me.
Me: No, I do no- What is that creep doing, driving on the medial side of the road?
BB: *smirk*
Me: Go stick your head inside a PR.
BB: That’s wrong grammar, too.
Me: You want me to answer that?
BB: We’re there.

Eh?

ET Had Elliott

Have you ever felt like an outcast among the people you thought were your friends? Like you don’t belong, and never really have? Am I from Pluto? Do I have antennae that only I can’t see? I hate it when I am teased relentlessly about the things I hate about myself, and my strengths are made to sound inconsequential, especially when compared to their own. My achievements are nothing; I got what I did because they weren’t in the running for it. I often wonder how much of it is meant in earnest. Or am I merely being paranoid?

Dammit, I wish I were me.

Toddling Along

So my blog has turned one. It can walk a little, but it prefers to crawl, judging by the number of posts.

Leave a gift. And say nice things about the new template.

Rain

I wrote this nearly 2 years ago, one rainy March evening. I forced a lot of friends to read this *ahem* 'literary masterpiece', and most of them have refused to acknowledge my existence ever since. Now you know why I don’t write fiction.

I dream of rain.

The heavens opening and crying out its heart, carrying with it the grief of untold generations. The rain mingling with the tears on her face, flowing down her cheeks as one, to gaze apprehensively at the world below, only to get pushed down over the curve by their successors. The sweet liquid merging with the salt, to wash away the evidence of her broken heart.

The lightning, mirroring those moments when her wrath could destroy worlds. A blast of pure energy that reflects the heat in her eyes when the pain that threatened to overwhelm her transformed into rage. Lightning, blasting him into a million tiny pieces, each one glowing bright as the sun before fading to ash, to dust, fading to the black of oblivion.

And the thunder as loud as only thunder can be, yet, too soft to be heard over her screams. Thunder, shaking the earth, moving continents by its sheer intensity, while her anguish burnt a hole inside her, with no hope of escape.

She looked up at the sky. Black clouds had blotted out the sunshine from her life, hid from her the silvery moonbeams of hope, and shrouded the stars in her eyes. The very Universe was darkened by the shadows in her heart.

And it began to rain. Just a drizzle, and then harder, and harder, until each drop was a boulder. They pelted her face, washing away the signs of her emotion with a vengeance. She stood there, while the tears from heaven cleansed her soul of sorrow. She could feel it, each drop absorbing her grief, washing it away, leaving hopes of a better tomorrow in its place. Soon, joy began to make itself at home, for now her heart was healing, with scars that time would heal.

And a bolt of lightning came forth from the skies.

They found her the next day, a burn mark running down her body, and a smile on her face.

Moral of the story: Seek shelter during thunderstorms.

Purple Dreamer

A few million years ago, dinosaurs roamed the earth. After a while, birds and some pterodactyls flew about in the sky. Then somehow the dinosaurs and the pterodactyls died out, but the avians survived on fish. The fish became creatures who fed on milk, but couldn't fly. The birds wanted milk, and couldn't get any, so they took to swearing at the cows. Some of the abused took to the trees, in an attempt to intimidate the birds, but they (the birds, that is, and not the yay-I-can-climb-a-tree types) merely took to the skies and pooped on them. The tree-dwellers immediately (give or take a million years) evolved into the Wright brothers, and thumbed their noses at the foul-mouthed fowls. This just goes onto show you that in the vast and important scheme of things, time is irrelevant. Angel-Doc, remember tagging me? Although this post has nothing to do with it, let me emphasise that any resemblance to the meme is purely coincidental. As would have been obvious by now, it's all about how I'm slowly going off my rocker.

I baptise:
1. Tys on Ice
2. Spunky Monkey
3. Ziah
4. The Monk
5. Bullshee
6. Tangled :)
These worthy souls shall carry on the torch of enlightenment. Please don't set fire to the furniture, and keep an extinguisher handy.

People I'd like to execute:
1. My way or the highway:
Commands like 'You should do Gynaecology for your PG', or 'You should not wear high heels.'
The last I checked, this was a free country. I'll walk on stilts if I choose to. If my back hurts later, dammit, it's my back.

2. Insufferable know-it-alls:
I have an aversion to individuals who try to teach me hitherto unknown medical facts. I will not die if I eat curd and fish together. And hanging my cell phone round my neck will not give me a heart attack. There is a very good chance that I might die from a temporal glioma, but not a heart attack. Really. And the sex education perverts who get their kicks from expounding upon 'the union of the male and the female is achieved by the...'? Finish that sentence, and you'll be missing vital parts of your anatomy.

3. You're only a girl:
I understand that men have different qualities, and that women are far superior, so what hell do you mean when you say 'women' with as much venom as you can muster? If you are so contemptuous of what you perceive as feminine weakness, let's see you bleed for a week every month. And thanks to modern technology, now you can become pregnant too. Good luck with getting rid of the placenta.

4. Religious fanatics:
There are all kinds of people out there, and twice that many Gods. Those getting totally obsessed about God or religion have my contempt. I know this girl who is so orthodox she's never been inside any place of worship other than her own, because her Big Guy won't like it.
And the heathen. Don't get me started on that.

5. Bimbos:
Anyone whose head is more for ornament than for its circuitry. I'm not very tolerant of stupidity, even when the packaging is pretty.

6. Hypocrites:
I believe the followers of some faiths do not visit doctors when they are ill. There was one such person in my (please not the point) medical entrance coaching class. She had an acute asthmatic attack one night, and the warden of her hostel called an ambulance. She refused to get into the ambulance saying Satan gave her asthma and that it would go away if she prayed. Why on earth did she want to become a doctor? She didn't get through the entrance, if you were wondering.

7. Arrogant snobs:
'I can't sleep without an AC' types. I can arrange for it to be converted to DC, Your Lowness.

People I'd award the AP Nobel to:
1. Surgeons:
I have a rather complex relationship with surgery. I don't like the subject much, but I surgeons rarely fail to amaze me. All that confidence. 'Bleeder! Cautery.' Just how do they manage to stay on their feet for hours? How do they know one structure from another? How can they do it with such precision? How can they be unaffected by the things they see? How much control does that take? No wonder they think they are Gods. I do, too.

2. Param Vir Chakra:
Ordinary people with the courage to face the daily grind. Or if you prefer corny flakes, the unsung soldiers in the battle of life. I find it easier to deal with big emergencies than the little ups and downs. Q. E. D.

3. Well rounded brainiacs:
No, no. no. That's not what I mean.
I'm talking about people like my friend Scar. He is brilliant, well-read, athletic, and to top it all, he is a nice guy. And I've never found him with his nose buried in a textbook. The latest gossip, or the newest medical breakthrough, I hear it from him. I hope he gets the real Nobel someday. He sure deserves it.

4. Artists :
Whether it's a paintbrush or a scalpel, an artist is an artist.
Was it Mark Twain who said, "If it falls your lot to sweep streets, sweep them like Michelangelo painted pictures, like Shakespeare wrote poetry, like Beethoven composed music." Somehow I can't imagine Mark Twain saying that.

5. B, 65:
I knew him only as B, 65 years. He was a patient in one of the Medicine wards. He had aplastic anaemia, and needed frequent blood transfusions, and that meant regular blood tests. He was the first person I ever drew blood from, and he liked us students. One of the first things we did in the morning was to go talk to him. He used to tell us to work hard, care for our patients, and would never crib about us pricking him for blood everyday. He never complained about his illness, no 'why me'. He always had a smile for me, even on a bad day. He never yelled at us, unlike many of the patients. He had the bed at the end of the ward for the 3 months I was posted in Medicine, and we used to go back and visit him even after our posting ended. One day, he wasn't there, and I heard he'd been shifted to the ICU. He died 2 days later.

6. Smilers:
People with a wonderful sense of humour. I can't find a better example for this than my mom. I was 11, and with the idiots on the Municipal Council blocking the major drains in our area, our house flooded with water during the rains. It was cold, we were knee deep in water, most of our things were on the road on ruin, and the stench was awful. We decided to go away for a couple of days, and were packing everything that could be salvaged. Suddenly, Amma laughed and showed me my foam slippers floating around in the water. It was funny seeing it getting stuck on bits of furniture. I've never met many women her age who is amused by the little absurdities in life. Most of them are very grim and prim.

Having successfully established myself as the epitome of frivolity, here's my Postal Joke. It's an old one, and one of my favourites.
Q: For every 90 sins you commit, you get caught 45 times. Wonder why?
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A: Because sin 90⁰ = cot 45⁰.

P.S: As of today, I have an official fans association at college. What else can I ask for?

Monkey Brains

Guess what I saw here.

And this was very interesting. What do you say?

Real posts takes time, and I don't have any right now. The postman is on leave. A new post when he comes back on duty.

Of Blogs and Rats and Me

Why do I blog?
This is as good an answer as any.

At this point, I'd like to inform everyone that Stephan Pastis (may he live forever and continue to draw Pearls) owns Pearls Before Swine. I don't. Copyright and all that, everything, belongs to Pastis & Co.

Pearls is my favourite strip. Not that kind of strip, perv. Comic strips. The kind they put in newspapers. Like, say, Dilbert. Anyway, about Pearls. It's my favourite strip (I love repeating myself). Not Calvin & Hobbes (it's a close second), not Garfield (third, like Ender), not Dilbert (it's nowhere on the list), not {insert name of comic strip here}, it's Pearls Before Swine that's my favourite. The title is taken from a line in the Bible, that goes something like, thou shalt cast no pearls before swine. The strip is about a bunch of anthropomorphic animals that live in a city, alongside humans. Humans don't appear in the strip very often, and when they do, they don't find talking animals unusual at all.

The humour is dark, it often comes across as insensitive, there are plenty of people lobbying for the un-syndication of Pearls, it pokes fun at many serious issues, but, bottom line is, I find it funny. Funny as in 'hahahaha if I laugh any more I'll die' funny.
Pearls, for the lack of better words, is me. I can identify with all of the main characters in the strip, except one. God, not that one, please.

The hero, Rat, is the personification of our greatest vices. And I don't count greatness as a vice. I think, when things get really really sticky, we think about our own skins alone. I don't mean that we are all always uncaring monsters, we do give lots of damns about our loved ones, it's just that we love our own selves a little more. Take unrequited love, for instance. X (yeah, took me an hour think up the name) loves Y (it was easier this time, only 45 minutes). But Y does not love X (big surprise, huh?). X is sad (understatement of the year) because (duh!) Y does not love X. What I'm trying to say is, although X loves Y, all X is wants is another person to love X. There is no such thing as an unselfish act. No, that's too general. I have never come across a completely unselfish act. Think about it.
Rat is the personification, or more accurately, the rodentification, of the worst of many of my faults, magnified into something enormous that fits into the body of a rat. He is a self-centred, cynical, cruel, sarcastic, insensitive, totally hateful megalomaniac. I know myself well enough to realise that I have a nasty streak in me. I don't kick small children, but I'm tempted to, if they bug me. I need to use a lot of restraint when it comes to not pulling their hair out by the roots when they do that to me, the force of temptation being directly proportional to the age of the child. Rat is multi-talented, he writes children's books and romance novels, owns a tabloid (The National Enquirat), and is also a highly successful (what else?) lawyer.

Pig, Rat's roomie, is, well, a little dumb. He says and does a lot of things that are misunderstood, because he did not know they could be taken the wrong way. He is innocent, not very worldly-wise, shy, insecure, a little slow, a misfit among his peers (he likes bacon). I wish I could say I'm nothing like him, but the truth is that I'm too much like him for comfort. But he's also very sweet, a description that, sadly, does not apply to me.
Rat: If you could have a conversation with one person, living or dead, who would it be?
Pig: The living one.
[pause]
Pig: You must really think I'm stupid.

Goat is quite intelligent, a loner, prefers books to people, is always the butt of Rat's ridicule, and easily exasperated by stupidity and apathy. He can't stand Rat, either, but it's always Rat who gets the last word. Goat keeps a blog that no one reads. Yes, I know, the resemblance is uncanny.

Zebra is a very ordinary sort of guy, but unfortunately, prey. There are all kinds of predators waiting to eat him, or one of his herd members back home in Africa. He's an idealist, trying to make the predators more understanding about the plight of becoming eaten. Not a particularly easy task, when staying alive is hard enough. He also has a lot of principles that he lives by, and he finds it frustrating when they are paid no heed. I could write entire books on the subject.

Most people have guard dogs, but Pig has a Guard Duck. His solution to every problem, small or big, is his rocket launcher. Not a bad idea, that. Nothing like a rocket launcher to stop others from being annoying.

Da Brudderhood of Zeeba Zeeba Eata. The dumbest Crocs on earth live next door to Zebra, and are such incompetent predators that they have to subsist on take out from KFC. Da only seemilareety between da Crocs and me ees dat me sometimes talk like dem. But that could be because I'm addicted to Pearls.


The jokes in the strip are my favourite kind- horrible puns that would leave my victims writhing in agony.
Rat: I saw my cousin Gene today.
Pig: Is he the guy that runs marathons?
Rat: Yeah, but he's a real jerk ... nobody in my family likes him.
Pig: It must be tough to have a bad Gene that runs in the family.

I hope everyone liked the new display picture. And do check out Pearls here. You can read the Wikipedia entry on Pearls here. Enjoy.

There are dozens of recurring characters, like Danny Donkey, Farina, Stromoski, and Angry Bob, who is the hero of the romance novels Rat writes, but none of them are, well, me. The day I become Angry Bob is the day I die (pun intended). Plus the strip is really complex, with cross overs, pop culture references, running gags, and all. In short, just like life. But taken in in its entirety, the strip is totally me.

I'd like to remind everyone that all of the pictures I have used here, and the characters, are the property of Stephan Pastis, the creator of Pearls, and that the copyright and things belong to him.

There are very few things for which I have strong feelings, humour is one of them. My tastes are another. There are a few more, but Medicine tops the list. I also love stating the obvious. I don't know how boring this has been, I talk seriously only about issues that are very close to my heart.

From now on, I'll be ending all my posts on this blog with a joke that I find funny. I'm going to call it *drumroll* Postal Joke.
Pig: What are you reading?
Goat (holding book): It's a mystery.
Pig: Have you checked the title page?