Uncommon Wealth Heroes

It was at the uncommon wealth games
That my sporty colleagues shone bright,
The golds they won did us all proud-
Their heroics rocked the night.

Cd was the swimming champ:
He could beat a motor boat;
Usne subah se sirf do glass doodh piya tha,
And that kept him afloat.

Su's team took the football gold.
Their match was such a sleeper,
The credit goes to his sixty girlfriends
Who distracted the opposite'keeper .

AP ruled the boxing ring,
You could hear his victims squeal;
When, Oh when, will those fellows learn
That his bones are made of steel?

Ar was the high jump king-
He jumped twenty feet and five!
Thanks to PK who, before each jump,
Announced that she would drive.

San won the wrestling crown,
He reduced his challengers to fudge
While seven wada pavs in his tummy
Made sure he didn't budge.

And I took the slow biking title.
Of course, it didn't matter-
That no one told me to ride slow and not speed
And what I did was precisely the latter!

Just another day

G actually thinks her blog would have been more interesting if she had taken up medicine. In the sense that brain machines and exploding fire hydrants don't thrill her as much as eye witness accounts of valiantly fought battles for life and heroic resuscitations. Of intracardiac injections (not recommended any more) and ER thoracotomies.Of precipitate labours and emergency PCF decompressions. Of the thrill of being called "doctoreen bai" by a patient after three hundred before her have driven me SICK with "shishterrr".
That's the ground reality.It's 9 am on a typical day and I'm rushing to the ophthal OPD, for that's where I shall be incarcerated for the next few days. Trust me G, a sewing machine would be a thousand times more interesting than anything I've ever done at work so far; brain machines sound delectable. The waiting room outside the OPD looks like Woodstock, the OPD looks like the Kumbh Mela. A dozen trodden toes and the accompanying expletives later, I reach a chair and call for the first patient to have his vision tested.
" Cover your right eye, " I say.
He promptly covers his left.
" Can you see the chart at the far end of the room?" i say, pointing to the Landolt's.
" Yes I can"
" Well, now count the number of dots in each box from top to bottom, using only your right eye. can you tell me how many there are right on the top?"
Silence.
" How many dots do you see?"
Silence.
" Are you unable to see them?"
Silence. Then," there are five in the middle line."
"Huh?"
"And nine there. And seven."
"Huh?" Really, HUH! There are four huge dots there on the top, I can swear! My eyes are fine!"Wait a minute," i say, "let's go a step at a time. How many are there right at the top?"
"Four!"
Whew! " Okay, now below that?"
" Five!"
"Well, let's stick to the rules, okay? Let's read from left to right. How many are there on the left?"
"Four!"
"Good! Now next to that?"
"Six."
HUH! There are four right on top, and two boxes in the second line with four in the left and five in the right. And he just said five, for crying out loud! " Are you sure? Count again carefully."
"Six!"
"Can you see it clearly? Does it appear hazy?"
" I can see it clearly. There are six!"
Something is wrong with my eyes!! " Go step wise! Start a line from the left. Which line are you reading?" There are three different boxes with six dots in three different lines. Which line is this guy reading?
" O shishterrr!!! I'm telling you there are six!!! Do think I'm lying? Can't you see? There! See there!! In THAT line?"
"Which line?"
"THAT!!!!"
"Okay, read the entire line."
"Six, five, three, five, four."
Well, there is a line that reads four-five-three-six-five from left to right and five-six-three-five-four from right to left. "Can you read it for me from left to right please?"
"O shishterrr, i came here to have my eyes checked, not to count dots!!"
That's it. My waterloo. I guess his vision is 6/12. Thank God for automatic refractometry. I'm checking into psychi. Brain machines, anyone?

Hollow

Ah! These disappointments seem like a mountain; the tiniest task could seem like a burden. Every turn in the road seems to run into a wall; Every step forward seems to end in a fall;
As everyday passes and all my plans flop; As my idle mind becomes that devil's work shop
I sit here at my pc, as creative as a log
And generously share my boredom with those who read my blog!

Tell me why...

Why do fruit vendors rip you off when you're buying stuff for the sake of some change?
Why don't people have time for one movie when they have time for 7?
Why do alternator wires snap on Sundays?
Why do birds poop on your hair just after you've washed and conditioned it?(That too on a completely treeless packed-to-the-brim overcrowded road)
Why don't babies warn you before they spray you?

Because....
Because there are fruit vendors who help you when you fall off your bike in the most inelegant manner.
Because people steal time just to meet you in spite of ridiculously jam packed schedules on trips home from the other side of the world.
Because there's someone who'll travel half way across town to help you fix it and then all the way across town to get you home comfortably. And there's someone who'll Google for the numbers that were lying in your glove compartment all the while.
Because bird poop is supposed to be good luck.
Because then they give you that toothless smile that's worth being sprayed a hundred times.

Could you suggest some more please?

Here are some words that I invented with their meanings (at best that I can express them). If you can invent some more, could you please add them to my list? They should be original though.

• Psykick (v)- To wish dearly to thrash someone. Bludgeon someone in wishful thinking. All I can do right now is psykick him.
• Cerebum (n)- Someone who is a genius but otherwise a bum.
• Blugger (n)- A blogger and a bugger
• Divastated (v, past)- Turned down because you weren't good enough for her
• Politicks (n, pl)- Those bugs in the parliament. (s. politick)
• Democrazy (n)- Anarchy: of the people, by the people, for the people
• Flied-rice (n)- Unhygeinically prepared food.
• Prisoner-of-ward (n)- Junior resident (abbr. POW)
• Dope-amine (n)- The predominant neurotransmitter in dopes
• A-tisshoo (n)- What you need when you have a cold

Just a thought...

Far across desert sands,

Across the seas, in greener lands,

In different worlds of a similar kind

We seek, we seek but never find.

In gold and stones and costly treasures,

In thrills and fun and common pleasures,

In friends, in mates, in ties that bind

We seek, we seek but never find.

All around us, far and near,

Through gloom, despair and many a tear,

Keeping hope but seeming blind

We seek, we seek but never find.

Our search for that eternal bliss-

That long pursuit of happiness-

Would end inside a purer mind,

And if there we seek, then we shall find.

Court Rules

As a regular on the bench and an extra in the erstwhile LTBA (L standing for Limbu), I consider myself experienced enough to give out 6 handy basketball tips:

Don'ts-

-Donot trip the opposite captain when the referee is looking.

-Donot hug an opponent when he/she walks towards you with open arms - the player is guarding you, so don't mistake that for camaraderie

-Donot allow any of your male friends to proclaim their love for a female player in the rival college's team, especially with her brother sitting behind him in the stands. (Trust me. Experience tells me that this can happen).

Do's

-Trip the opposite captain when the referee is not looking.

-Communicate. Make some noise out there in the middle. You can cluck, squeal, beep, burp or threaten to bring up your last meal.( For best results in case of the latter, try version Projectile 0.6 without worrying about what Miss K is going to say about this.)

-Stand on tip toe for as much of the match as you can. This should leave your opponents hobbling by half time. Of course I mean that you stand on the tips of your opponents' toes.

*Disclaimer: Relic has found that the field trials of the above methods so far on record donot show any statistically significant advantage over fair play.

What's in a name?

A while ago, I read about a woman who lost a case to change her family name from Cooperman to Cooperperson. Cooperman, she said, was unfair, chauvinistic and subscribed to the principle of a male dominated society. Cooperperson was more politically correct in the eyes of the self styled feminist. Imagine if she'd won. Then every Ms. Goodman would want to be Goodwoman and refuse to act like one until allowed to call herself so. Ms. Bradman would be Bradwoman, Ms. Hopman would be Hopwoman, while Ms. Henman wouldn't just be Henwoman, but would also claim copyright to the new super heroine by that name. All '-sons' will be replaced by the less gender biased '-issue'. So now one would use band aids from Johnissue and Johnissue, read text books by Harissue and Davidissue, and learn clinical methods by Hutchissue (bless you). To be more universal in the approach, all bars will serve hentails with cocktails, hotdogs will be served with hotbitches and markets will now trade in cows and bears. Little children must know to shed the gender stereotypes, so it shall now be taught that Little Miss Muffet wasn't frightened by the spider, but instead she rolled up her newspaper and whacked him on the head sending him into a period of retrograde amnesia during which he mistook himself for a honeybee. And honeybees, being thoughtful enough to call their females queens (and treat them like that too) while driving the drones out of the hive shall be spared this painful discussion.
Well, what was Miss Cooperman thinking? Will changing all '-man's' to '-person's' really do much for the women who aren't fortunate enough even to have the freedom to be feminists? Will it stop the wolf hooting and eve teasing that is so rampant, it's almost a given? Will it prevent every case of sexual assault from turning into a cheap discussion of a woman's
wardrobe? More importantly, will it prevent sexual assault? It's sad that even today, women's rights remain only a topic of discussion at kitty parties and election campaigns, and efforts are limited to eyewash like reservation, which in my opinion, is like a pair of crutches for a perfectly able person, to tag him handicapped permanently. The change required is much more radical- a change in outlook and perception, a need to uproot from every mind some dark, hardwired misconceptions. Treat her like an individual, for heaven sake, and respect her as one. And if changing a name is going to help, by all means go ahead.

Operation Dessert Storm

Date: December 24th, 2007. (Solo repeat on January 5th,2008)

Place: So's Kitchen.

Time: 1hr 36min

The Mission: Brownies and Hot chocolate sauce.

Partner in crime: JMo

The beginning:

The middle:

The end:

The MBBS Anthem

A little humour, after all that crankiness which surprised even me.
To be sung to the tune of Kya kare kya na kare from the film Rangeela.

(Ahem...)
Kya padhe kay na padhe, yeh kaisi mushkil, hai,
Koi toh bataaye iska hul oh mere bhai,
Ki ek taraf toh din aur raat padhe hum
Par exam mein toh marks hume mile kum!
Toh kya padhe kya na padhe...

Roz roz hum
Sochta yehi
ki din mein 48(in hindi) ghante hote the yadi,
Toh aisa padhega, s**la, vaisa padhega,
Exam mein examiner ko hum phaad dalega
Jab viva voce hoti hai
Saans hi atakti hai
Aur a yeh zubaan chalti hai phisal....

Toh kya padhe kaya na padhe yeh kaisi mushkil hai....

Yesterday, Last week

It was a day of crampy thighs , aching soles and sheer satisfaction. For last Thursday, after much dreaming, planning and trademark confusion I was able to join the rest of the Dirty Dozen as they trekked up a hill ( and, yes, fetched a pail of water from the crystal clear Dev Taaki). The credit goes to Cd and Su, who masterminded the excursion, and my own appearance was all due to Su's strategic timing, meticulous direction and untiring coaxing ( thanks, dudes!) The trek up was delightful, marked by an encounter with a wise man and a wise woman in a little hut and quaint stories about a different lifestyle narrated by the Sheikh herself. After two and a half hours of climbing (not bad; most people do it in an hour) we treated ourselves to fresh curd out of little earthen pots and a sumptuous lunch of pithla-bhakar, along with a game of bluff and a very unconventional one of frizbee. Su then led us to vaara point, where there wasn't any vaara but, hey, that's where Kareena was last seen (oh come on guys, she was quite a sight -sunbathing and chewing the cud). That's when we 'lost' SV and ran around the place screaming her name, attracting the attention of everyone but SV. We were eventually reunited near Dev Taaki, the beautiful spring at the fort, whose cool and clear water is a godsend( no, no, no- I am not a tourism official). The best was yet to come, though. During the climb down, AB, SV, Ar( there is only one Ar) and I got separated from the rest of the gang by a melee of school children. And that's what i enjoyed the most- the peaceful climb down. I mean, ever seen five shades of green merge into each other? Ever wondered what they mean by true blue? Ever seen silver bark and red berries without a leaf? (rubies set in platinum? Doesn't even come close!) My favourite was the little green sun bird perched on a leafless branch against a backdrop lilac blossoms. I was almost sorry when it was time to go home. But the ever resourceful Dirty Dozen did provide me with something to think about during the ride home in the back seat of S's car- Operation Dessert Storm.

Lessons from the parking lot: The Ten Commandments

Pearls of wisdom painstakingly gathered during the time killed (no, brutally murdered) in the parking lot.
1. Thou shall not trust anybody with a waist size more than 30 inches.
2. Thou shall not trust anybody with a waist size less than 31 inches.
3. Thou shall get serious and aim to pass. (oops, too late)
4. Thou shall treat All Others with suspicion.
5. Thou shall not take a compliment at face value. Duh.
6. Thou shall not have lunch in someone's car and then ask for tissue paper to clean the seat. ( at least not in front of jmo- very embarrassing.)
7. Thou shall not play chess under a crow's nest (or a pigeon's nest, for that matter)
8.Thou shall remember that it takes 40 muscles to frown, 15 muscles to smile, and 4 to reach out and slap someone.
9. Thou shall not blurt out 'wada pav!' when somebody asks what can be bought with the last five bucks of contri. ( naphthalene balls is a better answer).
10.Thou shall not step in doggy poo before entering the library.

Succumbed!

Always thought that blogging was for people who had nothing else to do, and found that to be very true today. Finally gave in to Su's argument that it's fun and decided to upload the trash in my upper storey for the world to read- at least that part of the world that ain't in the mood for sense.