Hws life?

My friend Vandana asked me a question on the social networking site 'Orkut'. Here follows her question and my exact answer to her. I haven't tried to correct any spelling mistakes, grammer or sentence formats. All is as i wrote in my answer.

Vandana: hiii...hws life?

Me: life??? hmm... i dont think orkut allows as many characters to describe life as is needed. still, i'll try my best to answer.

life is as usual. which means it is going on at its own pace and bidding and there is nothing suggesting its usualness. if i take my daily habits as a measure of usualness, still its not usual in the sense that its not at the same time, same manner and same mood as i was in earlier. if i take my job as a measure, i encounter many patients- some seriously sick and some less so- nothing suggesting usualness. hell! even my sleep pattern isn't usual! life and death pass by my eyes as if i was a visitor watching a movie in a movie hall. people pass my doors to health or to the afterlife in the same manner in which they pass the security guards of our hospital- without asking their permission. though they-and me too, try and dissuade the ones not authorized by our authority but who are we to dissuade anyone who comes by taking a pass issued by the higher authority???

thats whats usual about my life. unusual, but what we call usual. ur life is the same. as is everyone else's.

there is nothing usual about life. life is unique. thats what we need to understand and try to live to the fullest!



* I just thought it would make interesting reading at that particular time.

Diagnosing a Doctor

You know you are a doctor:

1. When the whole world sleeps, you awake to life and freedom.

2. You can get away with asking personal questions to your female patients for which you would have otherwise got 'one tight slap'.

3. You start feeling hungry on seeing the guts of the person on the OT table in front of you.

4. You see a skimpily dressed model striking a sexy pose and your immediate attention is diverted to her prominent veins and the thought of how easy it would be to administer an IV drip to her.

5. You can down quite a few pegs in one go and light a full packet of cigarettes in a day and still advise patients to give up smoking and drinking.

6. When you can get up from bed, dress, wash your face within one minute and start examining the patient by the time the minute's up.

7. When your zillion or so 'friends' and 'acquaintances' call you up in the middle of the night for your opinion on a prick on the little finger that has already been seen by another doctor.

8. When you seem to be quite proficient in giving information to the patients while successfully hiding your inadequacy and the inadequacy of your hospital.

9. When you can alter your facial expressions from a smiling benevolent creature to a grave, serious faced one within the blink of an eye or the time it takes to move from one patient to another.

10. When you say to yourself a hundred times in a day: 'I am not doing this anymore' and end up 'doing that' a hundred times over and over again in the process lying to yourself: 'its a great service i am providing to the people and to the society.'

* These are just some of the points that are coming to my mind as of now. My doc friends may add their own in the comments section, if they feel so.

SOME ADDITIONS (courtesy Dr. Kaustav Dutta)
1.Löoking at your watch everytime you finish a work and wonder if time could fly (or atleast run).
2.Your face being brightened up on seeing your replacement come on time or somehow still managing to smile even if he(most often she) coming a neat 30 minutes late!

And yes,there are times u know(and feel) you are a doctor when
1.You see a smile of satisfaction on your patient's face on being miraculously cured(with d state govt's not-so-reliable supply drugs).
2.See the healing scars of a burnt patient whose wound you have dressed for more than a month!

MOVIES, MASTI, MAGIC!!!

Three hours of out of the world experience. Three hours of constant vigil on the screen flickering before you. Three hours of following someone else's story, and relating to it. Three hours of leaving your feelings, your joys and sorrows behind you and getting immersed in a fantasy world. Three hours (and sometimes more than that) of watching a movie.

My love affair with movies (seems like it is a season for love affairs, waddya say RD?) started at a quite young age. My father was an ardent movie fan- the hindi ones- the only english movie that he has watched till date, in my knowledge is Titanic. I remember my childhood at a small place in Arunachal Pradesh where we sometimes used to watch movies at the local 'video hall' (an assortment of a television set and a video cassette player that used to run shows in the evenings with the electricity that was provided by a single generator for the whole village from 5 to 10 PM; with rows of chairs marked from A to F) or the Saturdays or Sundays when, with the advent of television, the whole populace used to converge upon the houses of the select few who had TV sets, and watch the movies being aired on the national channel. The grown ups got the chairs while we young fellows used to sit on the floor near the television. (Thinking back now, I salute the patience of those fellows who invariably welcomed their invaders with a smile and tea for the elders and snacks for the children). Within a few years, we had our own television and Dad used to borrow VCP from his friends and we used to watch movies sitting cozily in our drawing room, wrapped up in shawls to keep the winter chill out and with tumblers of tea to keep the warmth in. I don't remember the names of the movies, except a scene here and a shot there, but my distinct feelings at the time were pro-action. I was always disturbed by the romance angle and could not wait for the heroine to die so that the hero would rise up in revenge and beat the hell out of the bad guys! This served two purposes- a) it got rid of the romance and the songs and b) wasn't action the reason why we wanted to watch movies- the hero beating up the baddies and the victory of good over bad?

As I grew older, this notion of mine changed as I began to understand the importance of romance not only in movies but also in our lives. Our family tryst with movies continued as Dad bought a brand new VCP. But alas! the new place where we were posted was suffering from an acute shortage of electricity and electricity supply was quite erratic averaging 15-30 minutes a day. We used to watch movies by watching them like a series- a bit today and continuing with the next bit the next day. I remember having watched 'Border' in seven days! That was exciting, in a way. You waited the whole day in anticipation for those few minutes, having finished most of your assigned chores and your homework superfast while your mind wondered what would unfold in today's episode...

Things changed as I moved to college. Movie halls became quite accessible and were frequented often. The electricity supply at the hostel was almost unfailing and the hostel had its own cable line and a bevy of movie channels. It was during this period that I discovered english movies and HBO and Star movies channels. These have had a lasting influence upon my love affair. I haven't given up on hindi movies though- i watch the new ones and am getting re-acquainted with the classics too.

Things took a further turn when I witnessed a friend's collection of movies. Inspired , I started my own collection and within a short time had managed quite a good collection of both english and hindi movies.

The multiplex experience and my laptop were the next influences on this love affair of mine. While my laptop bore the brunt with having to play back to back endless movies (with the room suitably darkened and the woofers booming away), trips to the multiplexes were few but enriching. It is unparalleled- the experience of watching a good movie on a big screen with a perfect sound experience (with no chattering neighbours or loud mouthed businessmen talking into their mobile phones, or people playing what happens next games, of course).

Well, that sums up my little love affair with movies. Well, not sums up- it is an ongoing process, so it'll evolve, right? So, as I turn back to 'The Lord of the Rings' once more, go grab yourself something worthwhile to watch and let go of yourself and get immersed in those three hours of whatever it means to you.

REM Tales

I am to meet the President. Dressed in formal clothes, I am wandering about in a garden thinking about the moments to follow. Why am I here? I don't know. I don't seem to have won an Olympic Gold or a bronze, neither committed some great act of bravery nor am I a visiting dignitary. Still, I am here, waiting in eager anticipation.

The moment arrives. The President comes. He just materializes. Out of nowhere. Just like that. He is dressed in a kurta-pyjama, with horn rimmed spectacles and a benign expression on his face. He has slightly curly hair on the side of his head which are turning grey. Wait a minute! HE??? Isn't the President of India Mrs Patil- the first female President? Confused? Well, so am I.

So, the Prez just came ambling towards me, no guards in view, no bureaucratic hi-fliers in tow, just him. I don't know what to do and I stare expectantly at him. He looks at me with the same benign expression and continues past me. Not knowing what to do, I follow him.

Suddenly, I think I know where we are. Why! Its my old college and its the new medicine ward that we seem to be visiting. But theres absolutely no one to receive the Prez. He walks serenely past the entrance and towards the wards, with me in tow.

We walk past a doctor's duty room and I see a pc on the table. Wow! Things sure have changed! I exclaim. Suddenly I remember a very important task that I had to do on the pc. [Don't exactly remember what it was now. Maybe logging into my blog and check how many visitors I had since the last time I was online.] So, I sit in front of the pc in that empty doctor's room.

As my hands move towards the keyboard, the General Secy of the Junior Doctors Association comes into the room.'Oh good I found you here', he says. I need you to type out some important notice about a quiz in our college. 'Quiz, wow!' I say but just then I remember that I am with the Prez and tell him so, but he says that its a one minute job and wont take much time. Okay, i think and ask who the Quizmaster is going to be. He mentions a popular QM in the state but adds that he will be asking the questions. Huh! I think. He conducting a quiz??? Just then, the proposed QM and his hardcore antagonist in the Quizzing circle materialize in the room. I am confused. What the hell is happening???

Then the general secy tells me to participate in the quiz. 'How can I do so when I have passed out?' I ask. 'Its completely unethical. And I shall see to it that persons not from the college don't get to participate either'.

I remember then about the Prez again and I stand up to leave. Just then my phone rings. I pick it up. Still it keeps ringing...

And I wake up.

* For the uninitiated, REM stands for Rapid Eye Movement and is a phase of the sleep cycle where we see most of our dreams.

** Just wanted to share with you guys something that I thought interesting and which I think probably gives us an insight into our subconscious.

h2o

2H + O2 ------> H2O

Two molecules of hydrogen and one molecule of oxygen, when brought together, form one molecule of water.(as we were taught in school)

But its not about school here. Nor about water. Its about a watering hole in Dibrugarh and the memories attached to it.

There were only two places in Dibrugarh where I really felt at home. The first was my college campus and the second, during the latter part of my grad years, H2O.

I don't remember the date of my first trip there. It was with a friend who has been variously called 'pagal', 'havoc' and at times an 'a**hole'. It was probably his birthday. Anyway, I was struck by the ambience as I walked in. Semi darkened environment with hidden lighting, cool music playing in the background, soft couches and an interesting menu. And the service was quite efficient too. I don't remember what I consumed that evening- probably some cold drink or a mocktail (i was a good boy till then, you know!) but i came out with a longing to go back soon.

And go back, i did. The visits increased in frequency and my liver buckled up for some rough treatment as i graduated from cold drinks to mocktails to beer and to vodka. And i started picking up the lingo and discovering different flavors. And also the accompanying heady feeling when you get 'drunk' and you feel 'yay'. And some terrible headaches and hangovers too!

Since that time, H2O became a permanent fixture of our Dibrugarh existence. Celebrations called for a trip there as did sorrows. Many a passing out party was given there (and people did 'pass out'...lol...). Matters of the heart- whether it was getting hooked up or getting ditched resulted in the inevitable trip to H2O. So much so, that we were being given 'frequent flyer' type treatment and treated to discounts and all!

I remember the place more for the conversations that I had there. After downing some pegs, when the mind is without fear and the head held high [:)], when inhibitions take a back seat, serious conversations took place. They ranged from the quizzing scene in our college and in the state, from books to politics, from movies to cricket, from girls to dogs and god knows what, all the while craning our necks to have a peek at Mumait Khan waltzing to 'Mere piya gaye Rangoon' on the LCD [that was one of our favs. We requested the song so many times and saw it so many times that it has become permanently linked with the mention of H2O. Alas, the CD got damaged due to some rough handling (and maybe because of overplaying!)]. That was where, after getting high, I used to discourse about love to my fellows and lesser mortals or in case I was in a depressed mood, listen to people discourse on matters of the heart. That was where I had one to one conversations with my friend fr2k1 about girls, love and life in general. That was where fr2k1 gave me tips on how to kiss a girl better [haven't got a chance to try it out yet. *sigh* :( ] and opened my eyes to the realisation that i was a handsome guy with quite a fan following and quite appealing to the members of the opposite sex. Unfortunately, the realisation lasted only till the effects of the alcohol lasted.

I remember the return from the place to hostels. Having stayed most of the time till closing time, there would be a paucity of autorickshaws when we came out. The first thing we invariably did was to eat a paan at the nearest paanwallah's. Then it would be a long walk back (about 4-5 kms) with the more drunk being supported by the less drunk. The march would be accompanied by songs, if the mood picked up, or loud proclamations of undying love and brotherhood. A quiet usually descended when one entered the college premises as we were supposed to be 'model citizens'. The tempo was generally picked up again at the hostels though.

I remember too the last time I went there. It was eight of our batchmates who resided in the same hostel and who went out to celebrate for the last time together as students. We had a pretty 'emotional' time with slurred speeches being given, discussing our six years of togetherness and the approaching tough times. The videos I made are still with me and i sometimes look at them while having those low days and it never fails to bring a smile to my face. And it was the same old 'long walk back' with me supporting 'printer' who never says no to alcohol come what may and in whatever state he is in. It was a horrendous night, listening to printer's retching sounds (that almost woke up the whole hostel limb) and trying to give him an intravenous injection of an antiemetic.(it failed obviously, no one was in a fit state to administer an iv injection, it had to be given intramuscular).

I can go on and on about H2O and the memories. They form a part of my life that I shall always look back to with a smile. And the gaeity that we engaged in, that euphoria shall always come back when I reminisce about them. Any further visit to Dibrugarh shall be incomplete for me, without a visit to H2O.

Conversation Woes

I am a lousy conversationalist (if there exists such a word, which I think does). Talking to a person, specially if he (and more so if she is a she!) is a stranger or just an acquaintance is quite a tough task for me. And in case the conversation is over the phone, then God only knows how I fare.

I have been like this only. Ever since I remember, sitting down and chatting wasn't something I enjoyed. Unless, of course, I was with some really close pals or was discoursing on topics close to my heart (which are quite few, in fact). And jumping between topics is one of my characteristic traits. One moment I'll be talking about Agra, the next I'll be near the North Pole, if you know what I mean. And I like to think ahead about what I am going to say (even in informal conversations!) and when the time comes, i either completely forget everything or mess it all up.

I think I am selfish when it comes to conversation. I can talk about me, my likes, dislikes, and my life in quite detail, often, in the process forgetting about the other person. Many a times I have called a sick person and forgot to enquire about their health! Someone has been promoted and I forget to congratulate him/her! Its always me, me and me.

At least, face to face conversations are okay. You can drag your visual senses into the conversation. But when you are linked to a person just by your voice and the person is probably hundreds (or thousands) of miles away, its quite difficult to sustain the conversation. Once I have finished saying what I intended to say, the conversation becomes a drag. And after a series of how are yous? and i guess, everythings all right?, the conversation is thankfully terminated. There are only a few people who can continue a conversation with me for maybe ten minutes or more over phone. That would be two of my aunts (with them, its actually a monologue, with me inserting suitable yes, nos and ohs!); sometimes my mom when she is in a similar mood as that of my aunts; and some of my really close pals with whom i don't need to glance at the watch every few seconds and can discuss almost everything under the sun.

The upside of this problem is that I have comparatively lower phone bills. The downside being its getting quite difficult to interact with beautiful young girls. As if to add to my omnipresent woes mentioned above, i tend to get overexcited sometimes and sometimes my mind goes just blank. You can get away with talking about the weather once, discoursing about snippets of quizzical information next time (which, i guess, girls really dislike :( ). What about the next time? And the next? And unless you say something, how do you make conversation? The vicious cycle goes on and on...

I have tried various options. Tried taking tips from my roommate (who can talk on the phone for hours on end- he even passed whole nights on the phone just talking to someone!!!). Tried to evince interest in what the other person has to say. Even read those stupid articles from Reader's Digest. But to no avail. Guess this is an inborn error of metabolism. :) Hope some inborn error rectifies it too!

Of Muggles and Wizards

Its the 1st of September again. A new batch of excited students in London are probably making their way to King's Cross Station to platform nine and three quarters and to the scarlet Hogwart's Express, marking their first tentative steps to wizarding education that will prepare them for the life ahead. For, 1st of September is when the academic calendar starts for Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Oh! How i wish i could have been on that train! But i can't. The reasons being 1) I am a muggle and have never shown any sign of magical activity 2) I am on the later side of my twenties and i guess thats too late for elementary education.

Still, had I been a wizard (meaning having some magical powers, for the uninitiated. If still confused, refer to the Harry Potter series)and of the requisite age, I would not have been on that train, I guess. The simple reason being, I am an Indian, and of course, we would have similar institutes here. Maybe I would have gone to the world famous Indian Institutes of Wizardry that have produced some of the world's finest wizards (who have been gobbled up the moment they graduated by some foreign wizarding firm, and where you have to be exceptional to gain admission) or to the National Institutes of Wizardry or maybe to the Assam Wizarding Institute. I would have probably boarded one of the various wizarding trains made available by the Indian Ministry of Magic in consultation with Indian Railways and Mr Lalu Prasad Yadav.

Maybe I would have shopped for my school things somewhere near fancy bazaar in guwahati (the entrance having been suitably hidden from muggles). Maybe I would have gone to an institute which was once, among the top ten wizarding institutes, and which now languishes among the bottom half.Maybe I would have encountered some of the best and world famous wizards as my teachers. Or maybe I would have encountered teachers who would have been more interested in their personal glory and riches and in the student's personal lives than imparting quality education.

Maybe the institute would have a reservation system as is present everywhere in India. 27% for the muggle-born, 20% for the half-bloods, and 10% each for wizards hailing from remote areas. Maybe the Minister for Magic would ask us to spend a further 5 years of our life catering to wizarding amenities at very low paychecks and almost non-existent infrastructure before signing our degrees. Maybe...

For, I believe that life in India, the way the Government and bureaucracy functions, the way people behave and the way the system works, would be exactly the same- whether you are a muggle or a wizard. Life would not really be different, only you would be capable of magic if you were a wizard. Rest all would be the same. Nothing different.