I need a marriage man! Its late already. I have already started holding my head high in crowds, to save people from seeing into my extended fore-head. Its getting too late. You know how efficient I am at both work and home. Please, I need you to vouch for me. My expectations are not too high. At this point of time, any girl is fine by me. Just for my parent's sake, make sure she has a solid background in bot the religious and the financial front.
I wondered at this statement, if this bugger is yearning for company, I should be too. But then again, I am not him, am I? So i took it upon myself to get this fool a suitable mate to hold hands and soothingly say in his ears, "No, honey!!! You are not even close to being bald!". My first experience as a mediator. I was marching in tune to the orders that ran down from up high in his family. As a personal friend and a friendly boss to him, I had been with him for over 2 decades. We were not exactly the thickest of friends, but we were friends, nevertheless. I was mentally making a list of a few eligible candidates. Ones that were equally desperate, were more for the picking. At least I had a start. The first person I went to was an aunt and like all aunts, a directory of worldly wisdom and truly a goddess if what you need is matrimonial salvation. Pick and choose was going to difficult with the options she threw. I had enough sense in absolutely avoiding any possible relations to my family tree as, in matrimony, you tend to step into virgin waters without realizing that all that blue is whale shit.
The hunt was feverish. Photos of the bride and the groom were exchanged faster than blows in a pub. Initially a lot of the eligible candidates were rejected. I have to mention here that I was not the sole provider of bread here. I was part of the heard that was clearing weed and pooping manure for the will of one man! Not only were girls being rejected left and right, but this bugger, that was now my incurably insomniac, junior at work, was steadily being subjected to the "THE GROOM LOOKS OLDER THAN MY FATHER" treatment. Until I saw his bio-data, I was under the impression that it was his looks that bore deep into the women's decisions, for, in point number 34, under section c, this moron had written, I smoke one cigarette a day and involve myself in occasional social drinking. The blatant truth took me by surprise, though I can't fathom how I got to that part of the Iliad. I was impressed and slightly dejected that I did not propose any of the palatable candidates from my family. One fine weekend, his parents call me home. It had been decided that a "WHEATISH-22 YEAR OLD-VADAGALAI-BHARATHWAJA GOTHRAM-COMPUTER ENGINEER-WORKING IN BANGALORE-8lpa-AFFLUENT FAMILY" bride-to-be, had been decided upon and I was invited to judge her. The photograph was absolutely brilliant. But the girl would have been better in the background. I abridged my judgement to "she is good looking".
Don't kid me!!!She is not pretty. I accept it. But you have to know that she lost her parents young and had to be raised by her grandparents.
I was looking at a person I missed from making my best friend. He was outspoken, something, among a lot of other aspects of him, I had apparently been missing at work. I was going to take him into my wing from now on, I vouched. I was going to observe him better at work! She is going to be lucky, this dark puny thing, somewhere in the photograph.
All that I missed in him before, I realized he was a cleaner person than the environment personified him to be. I was spending more time with him. Giving him tips to pick himself up. Encouraging slaps on the butt and stuff of that sort. He was changing the person I assumed him to be. I liked him doing the change himself.
With the betrothal done and barely 10 days from the D-day, he took off from work and I was not bothered about the slip in the application for leave. I did him a favor and filled his online forms for until a week after the wedding. 3 days into his leave and not so much as a peep from him, I called on his house to find the door locked. The scene suggested unuse. After some tongue wagging with a neighbor and a cigarette with another, it turned out that the family had vacated the house after he was remanded with a few others, charged for abetting prostitution.
This post is not about me or any friend of mine!Its a post from sheer exasperation and a simple fact that judgments can be wrong. So please judge me all you want!, I don't care, but just don't bother me with it! I am tired of why you think I do what I do!!!
2009-12-19
2009-09-20
Change is good!!
Monotony...This is a fairly simple term to begin with, but a disgrace to the human race!!
I remember the day I switched from Backstreet boys to Aerosmith. The day I left school to join College. Change has been good. The day I rode the Bullet instead of The Max 100R. Change was excellent. There are so many examples that can be cited here. I am sure I can vouch for the change that came to replace Bush. A change that got the whole world to exhale. Most of my friends who are now working, are thankful for the work they are in, a change from college. Cyclic changes also feel good. For instance, the Tamilnadu Govt., Chief Minister Karunanidi to C.M. J.J., to C.M. Karunanidhi to C.M.J.J. A jump in the digits of bank balance in the beginning of the month to the negative signs before the mobile balance, all is for good. The death of a cast of some Mega serial in Tamil, to his re-introduction as his own evil twin. Horrendous humidity an heat to mystifying rains and sensuous breeze. The incessant nag of a stupid elder sister to her first salary, man this is an awesome change. Changes that are personal are all the more welcome. I remember how I got transferred from being the solution giver to all the petty issues in all the projects, to being the Designer. Change is a warm welcome. It is the only thing that can break the heavy shackles of monotony. Change is expected to bring good. Its never always for the better. I can't forget the second girl that I went out with, for all the wrong reasons. Any change here would have been good. She made me laugh every time I thought about it. There is always some thing good even if the change in itself is not too good. Mom, can you remember when we shifted from Madurai to Coimbatore, it was a very good change. Change is good......
Phew....!!!!I am sure I am justified for wanting a change....Off on a week long holiday!!!!!!!!!!
I remember the day I switched from Backstreet boys to Aerosmith. The day I left school to join College. Change has been good. The day I rode the Bullet instead of The Max 100R. Change was excellent. There are so many examples that can be cited here. I am sure I can vouch for the change that came to replace Bush. A change that got the whole world to exhale. Most of my friends who are now working, are thankful for the work they are in, a change from college. Cyclic changes also feel good. For instance, the Tamilnadu Govt., Chief Minister Karunanidi to C.M. J.J., to C.M. Karunanidhi to C.M.J.J. A jump in the digits of bank balance in the beginning of the month to the negative signs before the mobile balance, all is for good. The death of a cast of some Mega serial in Tamil, to his re-introduction as his own evil twin. Horrendous humidity an heat to mystifying rains and sensuous breeze. The incessant nag of a stupid elder sister to her first salary, man this is an awesome change. Changes that are personal are all the more welcome. I remember how I got transferred from being the solution giver to all the petty issues in all the projects, to being the Designer. Change is a warm welcome. It is the only thing that can break the heavy shackles of monotony. Change is expected to bring good. Its never always for the better. I can't forget the second girl that I went out with, for all the wrong reasons. Any change here would have been good. She made me laugh every time I thought about it. There is always some thing good even if the change in itself is not too good. Mom, can you remember when we shifted from Madurai to Coimbatore, it was a very good change. Change is good......
Phew....!!!!I am sure I am justified for wanting a change....Off on a week long holiday!!!!!!!!!!
2009-08-05
GONE ASTRAY
Well, as the usual saying goes, “Hats off to you!!!!”. I am proof for the fact that you have accomplished a feat and none the less, reached acme. You are beyond the goal that you intended reaching and I sure feel its time to slow things down. Well recent events are still smoldering and I can see your hand in all of what’s happened. Quick, responsive and hitting where it hurts the most. I saw you stain the show with your mark. A gift you have developed and honed since the day you took to speaking aloud. Well, I can sympathize with you at this juncture. I know first hand, how it feels to not feed a restless mind. And I can imagine the gravity of the situation when the relentless energy you possess is not channelized. I am reminded of the saying, “An idle mind is the Devil’s workshop”. But, bless God, you are here, proof for the fact that this is, but a myth. I am sure your surreal activity is quite contrary to anything that is even slightly synonymous with idle. I am in full appreciation for the legacy behind you. The legacy that was sermonized, almost worshipped, by legends, as the alleviation to the sores of the modern society. You stood by them, during their hour of darkness, casting upon them, a ray of hope. They took to you as they were aware that you, unlike us, are not bound by the shackles of time. Not even dimensions. Your very existence, today, is proof for the dreams of the ancient founders of the modern today. Trust was what they laid in you, more as an example to the world, than as your foundation. You were to uphold their ideals for life. I see you today, tainted by a plague of sorts. A shadow, in place of the halo, that was to lead the society. Recent history has seen your omnipresence more as a nuisance than the intended source of confidence. Smile fades when I see the fear you spread. I visualize a sadistic smile of pleasant victory wrinkle the skin on your face. I am disgusted!!!
The latest pull has been the best one yet! It has taken you not more than a couple of days, marathon sessions of arguments, debates and un-necessary advocation, to get a whole nation to scramble on to their feet, mask their faces, clearly not masking their fear, and cry out in frustration at the lack of specialization in the Nation, against Swine flu. I doubt if the flu will spread half as fast as the fear you spread!!!! Is this why we created the media? I can’t see what has plagued the media!!! I am forced to believe it is TIME itself.
Please let the girl rest in peace. I am sure her parents know what to do!!!
The latest pull has been the best one yet! It has taken you not more than a couple of days, marathon sessions of arguments, debates and un-necessary advocation, to get a whole nation to scramble on to their feet, mask their faces, clearly not masking their fear, and cry out in frustration at the lack of specialization in the Nation, against Swine flu. I doubt if the flu will spread half as fast as the fear you spread!!!! Is this why we created the media? I can’t see what has plagued the media!!! I am forced to believe it is TIME itself.
Please let the girl rest in peace. I am sure her parents know what to do!!!
2009-07-05
SUNDAY WAFT
Living in a Muslim area has exposed me to the strangest of sights and smells. Sundays being the worst. Its like the skies opened up and the clouds decided to fart on the world. The stench can be so appalling that suicide can not be eliminated for an option. Not being a fan of either the Onion or the Garlic does not help the situation a bit. Times can be hard. Sundays are the only days I tend to sleep in. Waking up in the wee hours of the afternoon, you can’t decide who the winner of the battle is - your moldy breath or the next door’s “Bai Kadai Aattu Kaal Biriyani” with “Meen Kolambu” to go with it. Its like a fawn’s first day. The moment you fall on your fee you have to scramble to safety. Shut all the windows and seal all possible crevices till the holocaust has died down. Sometimes, like today, the stench is so strong that its like the whole country is cooking the same damn thing. Run to the window and slam it shut. Double check all the handles and re-shut the door. Valiantly walk back to the bed for your afternoon siesta. Some routine. When this does not work, its time for one of the two things. Either believe God does not need Agarbathis for the next week and light them all together or look the stench in the face and battle it with the strong aroma of the infamous Vathakozambu with Manathakkali Vathal. I have found from experience that option 2 is so much better that option one for
1. With all the doors and windows closed, the Agarbathis lost track of their purpose in killing only the stench and almost killed me in the process. Bloody insane sticks.
2. There’s just absolutely nothing to beat the good old Vathakozhambu.
So clearly, seeing no point in lighting the incense sticks, I got up, brushed and bathed and set out to fight the damn stench. It was amazing how you can stand without pukin’ when the air smells like a freshly filled sewer. The stench wading into your nose and hits your brains straight. I was moved. I had to act fast before I was killed. I light up the stove and put the frying pan on. The aroma from the frying spices is just a step shy of heaven. More spices. More ghee. Ah!!!!! Slowly the stench was being ousted from the room. My brain, though refused to see the two smells apart. Now it smelt like someone had flushed an amazing pot of really good Vathakozhambu. I was so frustrated I took off to give my neighbors a piece of my mind. I was phrasing the most sarcastic words to slit their tongues with. Well, sometimes you just have to be stern and tell others that the world is to live in. Teach them that you only fart after you eat and you do not eat what you fart!!! I ripped my door open and caught sight of something sickeningly grey in the corner. I had stepped into muck from the sewer the previous night and there was nothing secular about the smell from my shoe and sock.
1. With all the doors and windows closed, the Agarbathis lost track of their purpose in killing only the stench and almost killed me in the process. Bloody insane sticks.
2. There’s just absolutely nothing to beat the good old Vathakozhambu.
So clearly, seeing no point in lighting the incense sticks, I got up, brushed and bathed and set out to fight the damn stench. It was amazing how you can stand without pukin’ when the air smells like a freshly filled sewer. The stench wading into your nose and hits your brains straight. I was moved. I had to act fast before I was killed. I light up the stove and put the frying pan on. The aroma from the frying spices is just a step shy of heaven. More spices. More ghee. Ah!!!!! Slowly the stench was being ousted from the room. My brain, though refused to see the two smells apart. Now it smelt like someone had flushed an amazing pot of really good Vathakozhambu. I was so frustrated I took off to give my neighbors a piece of my mind. I was phrasing the most sarcastic words to slit their tongues with. Well, sometimes you just have to be stern and tell others that the world is to live in. Teach them that you only fart after you eat and you do not eat what you fart!!! I ripped my door open and caught sight of something sickeningly grey in the corner. I had stepped into muck from the sewer the previous night and there was nothing secular about the smell from my shoe and sock.
2009-05-31
NOT THE BEST
Well, when you work for 13 hours a day on an average weekday and depend on the Saturday night for all the lost sleep, it is hard to comprehend what goes on around you. My life is chocking-filled with my work and I rely on the Saturdays for all my free time. This week end, however, I was feeling different. Having been as close to home as a martian stuck on Earth, I was not feeling too great about the situation. Too much pressure form all my friends, boasting about the great times they had during the weekend. And here I am, sleeping till 12 on Sunday, a straight 15 hour sleep, no breakfast, little lunch and only Counter-Strike to keep me engaged from 3 until 7 in the night, eat and hit the sack again. Well, I thought this was a little lame. I decided to gather what was left of my college friends and freak out for the night. I had it all planned.
1) A buy one get one free at SUBWAY. My friends buy one for each and I get the other one free.
2) An awesome movie (Angels and Daemons had just released) - preferably at a theater.
3) Crash in my friend's room with his air-conditioner blasting over my head and the fan freezing the moisture in the room.
4) Wake up late in the morning, eat and leave for my room to crash again.
What I as not thinking then was that, we were a gang of 4, my puny frame counted for a FULL-ONE, and I was the only one who had any interest in the A&D movie. The rest fell out the moment I let the cat out of the bag that there were not going to be any "scenes" in the movie. So it was decided. The new hit in the golden screen of Tamil Cinema had to be the movie of the day (or nigh, in this situation). I tried to talk them out of the ruddy idea. Any Tamil movie that has a single syllable for a title had to be 100% reasoned before even contemplating on the idea of watching it. I had to give in. One of my friends had a really cute cousin who vouched for the credibility of the movie. I now realize I missed the drool on the side of his mouth when he wanted to watch no other movie. I had managed to entice in their Tamil brains (its really hard to alter the minds of a tamilian) that SUBWAY was the way to eat on a Saturday night. I managed to get them to drive to the theater next to one of the city's SUBWAY outlets. The movie was at 10. We reached the theater at 9.25. We were ready with the tickets by 9.45. No time for a SUB. "THORANAI" starring Vishal and Shreya (Droooooooooooool). We walked in to a blind trap. The movie was the best thing that happened all night, for my sub had already been traded for a "thattu-kadai" dosai. The story line was simple. Hero-Villain1-Villain2-Heroine. Villain1 and Villain2 are arch enemies. Hero finds out from his permanently-crying, god-fearing mother that his Elder brother ran from home, never to return. And what do you know, Villain2 is the elder brother. Villain1 and hero fight. Villain1 and Villain2 fight. Hero wins. Mother happy. Hey...wait a minute...I haven't made any space for the heroine or the comedian. But to write about 15 songs (if you can call them that) in two minute intervals, that would not sound out of tune if played end-to-end and a few side-line same-old-sickening comedy, would take unwanted time. Well, at this point of time I had got my plans for the weekend all confused. I started off on a part of point 3 half way thro' the movie. Man it was easier to sleep than to follow the damn story. But in the end, I realized I had not missed a damn thing, after all. The best part of the whole expedition was that we stopped the car on the top of one of the bridges and caught up on old times, at 2 in the night. I woke up at 8.00 on Sunday. No where near my "wake up late" plans.
To start off with, this was Plan - B. I wish I had picked Plan - A and made it to Bangalore and actually freaked out. Darn my work!!!
1) A buy one get one free at SUBWAY. My friends buy one for each and I get the other one free.
2) An awesome movie (Angels and Daemons had just released) - preferably at a theater.
3) Crash in my friend's room with his air-conditioner blasting over my head and the fan freezing the moisture in the room.
4) Wake up late in the morning, eat and leave for my room to crash again.
What I as not thinking then was that, we were a gang of 4, my puny frame counted for a FULL-ONE, and I was the only one who had any interest in the A&D movie. The rest fell out the moment I let the cat out of the bag that there were not going to be any "scenes" in the movie. So it was decided. The new hit in the golden screen of Tamil Cinema had to be the movie of the day (or nigh, in this situation). I tried to talk them out of the ruddy idea. Any Tamil movie that has a single syllable for a title had to be 100% reasoned before even contemplating on the idea of watching it. I had to give in. One of my friends had a really cute cousin who vouched for the credibility of the movie. I now realize I missed the drool on the side of his mouth when he wanted to watch no other movie. I had managed to entice in their Tamil brains (its really hard to alter the minds of a tamilian) that SUBWAY was the way to eat on a Saturday night. I managed to get them to drive to the theater next to one of the city's SUBWAY outlets. The movie was at 10. We reached the theater at 9.25. We were ready with the tickets by 9.45. No time for a SUB. "THORANAI" starring Vishal and Shreya (Droooooooooooool). We walked in to a blind trap. The movie was the best thing that happened all night, for my sub had already been traded for a "thattu-kadai" dosai. The story line was simple. Hero-Villain1-Villain2-Heroine. Villain1 and Villain2 are arch enemies. Hero finds out from his permanently-crying, god-fearing mother that his Elder brother ran from home, never to return. And what do you know, Villain2 is the elder brother. Villain1 and hero fight. Villain1 and Villain2 fight. Hero wins. Mother happy. Hey...wait a minute...I haven't made any space for the heroine or the comedian. But to write about 15 songs (if you can call them that) in two minute intervals, that would not sound out of tune if played end-to-end and a few side-line same-old-sickening comedy, would take unwanted time. Well, at this point of time I had got my plans for the weekend all confused. I started off on a part of point 3 half way thro' the movie. Man it was easier to sleep than to follow the damn story. But in the end, I realized I had not missed a damn thing, after all. The best part of the whole expedition was that we stopped the car on the top of one of the bridges and caught up on old times, at 2 in the night. I woke up at 8.00 on Sunday. No where near my "wake up late" plans.
To start off with, this was Plan - B. I wish I had picked Plan - A and made it to Bangalore and actually freaked out. Darn my work!!!
2009-05-17
IT CAN"T BE!!!!!!!
I write in pain today.
It happened so quick that I wasn’t aware it had begun. I am ashamed I didn’t see it coming, for I have been with it all through its life. I should have seen it coming. I am so damn flustered at myself. Looking back, I see the how everything fell so well in place. How it had to happen this way and how completely inadequate and diffused the finale was. Its grandeur should have winded me. I was so involved. I remember how I would come back from college to find it waiting for me. I would spend precious moments cherishing all it had to throw at me. Sometimes I as so happy with it that I would talk about nothing else for a long time to come. It was on my lips till it got on my friend’s nerves. Now I am going to miss it!!!
I still can’t believe this was coming. I thought it was another silly complication aimed at drawing my attention to it. I was clearly not giving in and I would have missed it all if I had showed lesser interest. I am at least glad I was there when it happened. But I can’t see what I have to look forward to, anymore. But I still can’t believe this was the best exit. But I am so darn angry it’s the end. I haven’t had enough of Prison Break yet. I thought Killerman’s entry was an annoying complication aimed at extending the show. But then, in the word’s of late Michel, you can’t trust anyone. I still believe it was unnecessary to kill Michael. Man am I going to miss Prison break. I hope they bring in something better with the next wanna-be Prison Break.
Long Live Michael’s legend.
It happened so quick that I wasn’t aware it had begun. I am ashamed I didn’t see it coming, for I have been with it all through its life. I should have seen it coming. I am so damn flustered at myself. Looking back, I see the how everything fell so well in place. How it had to happen this way and how completely inadequate and diffused the finale was. Its grandeur should have winded me. I was so involved. I remember how I would come back from college to find it waiting for me. I would spend precious moments cherishing all it had to throw at me. Sometimes I as so happy with it that I would talk about nothing else for a long time to come. It was on my lips till it got on my friend’s nerves. Now I am going to miss it!!!
I still can’t believe this was coming. I thought it was another silly complication aimed at drawing my attention to it. I was clearly not giving in and I would have missed it all if I had showed lesser interest. I am at least glad I was there when it happened. But I can’t see what I have to look forward to, anymore. But I still can’t believe this was the best exit. But I am so darn angry it’s the end. I haven’t had enough of Prison Break yet. I thought Killerman’s entry was an annoying complication aimed at extending the show. But then, in the word’s of late Michel, you can’t trust anyone. I still believe it was unnecessary to kill Michael. Man am I going to miss Prison break. I hope they bring in something better with the next wanna-be Prison Break.
Long Live Michael’s legend.
2009-05-16
NO GOOD DEED GOES UNPUNISHED
“It’s just that I feel weak, a lot, now days. I feel sleepy and I never want to wake up. I get giddy when I look a anything that moves and when I climb stairs. I have never felt this way, Doctor, and I am now a little worried.”
For the past month, till date, I have been working from roughly 7.30 in the morning till 10 in the night. My sole company, through the day, being my pangs of hunger, my occasional head spins and the inconsistent but persistent gnarl shoved at me from my superiors.
One sweep from head to toe and the doc is ready with his differential. He was careful in laying the facts in front of me. Something of my stature must have emanated the radiance of a man 10 seconds away from choosing his path between Heaven and Hell. I have no idea what gave him the idea that this 21 year old, hard working, biker could not handle a spot of shock. Something told me he wanted to make sure I was out of his office when I received the details of his analysis, should I fall stiff on my back from shock and hold him responsible for my condition. I gave him the benefit of the doubt and waited to be ushered out of his office by the secretary he summoned by the push of an old fashioned “twist” bell. I was waiting for the voice of the young and hopefully cute secretary to call me into the ante-office to collect the details of my condition. I was instead a little taken aback by the approaching figure. It was the lady I had taken pity on, outside the clinic. I had dropped a couple of coins next to her on my way in. I was praying to God she was a patient here. Well, no good deed goes unpunished. I left the clinic with a printed sheet with close to a dozen tests on them. I was directed to a Lab down the road by the “secretary”. There was no trace of emotion on her face. I was now assured she did not have a refreshing tea from the money I so graciously donated her.
I took the list and rode down to the Lab. I am still worried I was sent to this Lab on purpose. I would have taken a week with a detective’s magnifying glass to find this place. It was neatly sheltered under the sanctuary of a dilapidated 2 storey mansion’s rickety stairwell. I was supposed to get my blood tested in here. I was rightfully scared beyond reason when I was approached by a young chap wearing a faded, checked, "lungi" that was neatly raised to seemingly reveal the “patta-patti” underwear, underneath and to my concern, he was holding a syringe in his hands. I had made my mind up, for I believed this was an act of God, in retaliation to the tea-tip. I entrusted the safety of my throbbing vein to the man in the veil. The vein was throbbing on its own accord, from fear for safety, no doubt. He was happy to poke the metal into my very obvious vein and draw a sample of my blood for the tests. I was convinced he was no good at small talk when he ventured to ease my nerves by saying it had taken him 7 jabs and 25 minutes to locate the previous “patient’s” vein. I gave up in horror. I was ready to leave when I saw him approach, this time, holding a white plastic cup. I was going to curse God again, linking to the tea-tip, when I realized the cup was empty. I was mildly relieved and was eager to leave. He stopped me with a sharp whistle and a careless wave of the cup. I was amused. But that was just for a fleeting moment, for the next second, he handed me the cup and pointed to a dark corner of the hole they called the Lab. I understood. I had to get out of this place at the earliest. I filled the cup up and left for the nearest hotel to wash myself up. Not wanting to go there a second time, I directed the men to have all the reports mailed to the doctor and the bills also with it. I would settle it there. He was not happy, but agreed. I ran home and drank water till I was leaking from my nose. I wanted no nightmares when I slept that night.
“Did you receive my reports Doctor? They have charged me quite a bit for these tests. I hope they were helpful.”
“Well, they are helpful, but if you say your giddiness is too much to bear, we will have to scan your head.”
“No, thanks Doc. I feel quite safe and I am sure I do not require a head scan.” I was not going to put myself through another series of torture.
“Your blood and urine look normal. If you want a source for all your problems, I am sure you’ll find it in you. You are too weak. That is why you feel tired. Can you describe your daily intake?”
The rest of the conversation was completely useless as I was down right blown away. I got off work early to come see a doctor and I go through a load of completely de-moralizing incidents, I pay a good-for-nothing lab a small fortune to receive a completely useless report and all I get from this is a lousy “You feel tired because you are weak.” I clearly remember that this was exactly what I told the doctor. Man if I had not tipped the secretary, I might have at least landed up in Lab, instead of a rat hole and I would not have felt bad burning a hole in my pocket.
For the past month, till date, I have been working from roughly 7.30 in the morning till 10 in the night. My sole company, through the day, being my pangs of hunger, my occasional head spins and the inconsistent but persistent gnarl shoved at me from my superiors.
One sweep from head to toe and the doc is ready with his differential. He was careful in laying the facts in front of me. Something of my stature must have emanated the radiance of a man 10 seconds away from choosing his path between Heaven and Hell. I have no idea what gave him the idea that this 21 year old, hard working, biker could not handle a spot of shock. Something told me he wanted to make sure I was out of his office when I received the details of his analysis, should I fall stiff on my back from shock and hold him responsible for my condition. I gave him the benefit of the doubt and waited to be ushered out of his office by the secretary he summoned by the push of an old fashioned “twist” bell. I was waiting for the voice of the young and hopefully cute secretary to call me into the ante-office to collect the details of my condition. I was instead a little taken aback by the approaching figure. It was the lady I had taken pity on, outside the clinic. I had dropped a couple of coins next to her on my way in. I was praying to God she was a patient here. Well, no good deed goes unpunished. I left the clinic with a printed sheet with close to a dozen tests on them. I was directed to a Lab down the road by the “secretary”. There was no trace of emotion on her face. I was now assured she did not have a refreshing tea from the money I so graciously donated her.
I took the list and rode down to the Lab. I am still worried I was sent to this Lab on purpose. I would have taken a week with a detective’s magnifying glass to find this place. It was neatly sheltered under the sanctuary of a dilapidated 2 storey mansion’s rickety stairwell. I was supposed to get my blood tested in here. I was rightfully scared beyond reason when I was approached by a young chap wearing a faded, checked, "lungi" that was neatly raised to seemingly reveal the “patta-patti” underwear, underneath and to my concern, he was holding a syringe in his hands. I had made my mind up, for I believed this was an act of God, in retaliation to the tea-tip. I entrusted the safety of my throbbing vein to the man in the veil. The vein was throbbing on its own accord, from fear for safety, no doubt. He was happy to poke the metal into my very obvious vein and draw a sample of my blood for the tests. I was convinced he was no good at small talk when he ventured to ease my nerves by saying it had taken him 7 jabs and 25 minutes to locate the previous “patient’s” vein. I gave up in horror. I was ready to leave when I saw him approach, this time, holding a white plastic cup. I was going to curse God again, linking to the tea-tip, when I realized the cup was empty. I was mildly relieved and was eager to leave. He stopped me with a sharp whistle and a careless wave of the cup. I was amused. But that was just for a fleeting moment, for the next second, he handed me the cup and pointed to a dark corner of the hole they called the Lab. I understood. I had to get out of this place at the earliest. I filled the cup up and left for the nearest hotel to wash myself up. Not wanting to go there a second time, I directed the men to have all the reports mailed to the doctor and the bills also with it. I would settle it there. He was not happy, but agreed. I ran home and drank water till I was leaking from my nose. I wanted no nightmares when I slept that night.
“Did you receive my reports Doctor? They have charged me quite a bit for these tests. I hope they were helpful.”
“Well, they are helpful, but if you say your giddiness is too much to bear, we will have to scan your head.”
“No, thanks Doc. I feel quite safe and I am sure I do not require a head scan.” I was not going to put myself through another series of torture.
“Your blood and urine look normal. If you want a source for all your problems, I am sure you’ll find it in you. You are too weak. That is why you feel tired. Can you describe your daily intake?”
The rest of the conversation was completely useless as I was down right blown away. I got off work early to come see a doctor and I go through a load of completely de-moralizing incidents, I pay a good-for-nothing lab a small fortune to receive a completely useless report and all I get from this is a lousy “You feel tired because you are weak.” I clearly remember that this was exactly what I told the doctor. Man if I had not tipped the secretary, I might have at least landed up in Lab, instead of a rat hole and I would not have felt bad burning a hole in my pocket.
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