Random Thought

After you become famous, your stupid one-liners become important statements. After you die famous, they turn into memorable quotes on calenders. If I quote today, I am told just that – it is stupid.

Porch Memoirs Part 1

I sit on the porch watching the sun slowly settling down for a night’s sleep. I can hear the birds rushing to their nests chirping and calling their neighbors to do the same. As always, I can feel the strange calm spreading through the atmosphere at dusk. For the last 14 years since I retired, I have stuck to this ritual of sitting out on the porch even before I lost my soulmate. She used to accompany me till the day she decided to leave me to experience this all alone.

I sit on the rocking chair with my last cup of tea for the day. A black bitter concoction that she hated but always loved to take a sip from my cup and grimace. Now that I remember those sips, I feel she might have been trying to make it a little sweet through that one sip or may be she wanted to show her solidarity in experiencing that hideous spew with me.

As the sun tries its best to throw some light on the mysteries of the night one last time as it disappears, the earth already starts preparing for the long slumber ahead. The orange glow hides more than what it should show. The silence that ensues amplifies sounds that is otherwise lost in the din of the day. I can hear the creaking. I forget if it is the creaking of my chair or my old bones. But the sound is oddly comforting.

At my age, you cling on to anything from your past, as if you are trying your best to hold on to your life. No, I am not holding on to life like a drowning man. In fact, I have been waiting patiently for the infamous cold hand of death that one hears about at all times. She never told me if it was cold or hot. She just left, smiling as usual; just like the day I saw her for the first time.

To be continued…

Why Doctor’s cannot cure you?

If the title made you think otherwise, let me make it very clear – This is NOT an article about God or strength of Prayer and sorts. You can stop reading if that is what you were looking for. Others read on…

I had first heard this notion from Chris Tucker during one of his comedy routines. And I thought to myself – Isn’t this true?  Okay, let me explain and you spend some time thinking about what you just read.

Doctor’s are professionals alright. They practice medicine but a majority of them are no firefighters. What I mean by firefighters is that they are not selfless heroes. After an expensive college education in Medicine, Doctors are motivated by Profit. The need to make money. I am not talking about the minority exceptions. There are a number of them who join NGOs, Red Cross and so on striving to help the unfortunate in war-stricken and ultra-poor zones of the earth.

But the majority of Doctors are in it for money. Now let is look at it in perspective. Pharmaceutical companies rely heavily on doctors for their revenues. Doctors make money by prescribing these medicines that pharmas make. In a way they are co-dependent. What happens if a Pharma company makes a medicine that can actually cure a particular disease? Not treat, I mean CURE a disease completely so that it cannot recur ever.The patient who is cured will now need not come back to the doctor. The patient need not take the medicines anymore. This means the Doctor and the Pharma company have now lost one source of revenue. True that more patients will rush to the doctor and seek the elixir, but that will subside after most of the diseased is cured once and for all. There is no recurring income. A Doctor or the Pharma have no benfit in developing or prescribing such a miracle medicine.

Now let us say that a Doctor successfully treats you for Blood Pressure or Diabetes. He prescribes you some medicines. You now need to take these medicines for life in order to remain healthy. You need to revisit the doctor for regular check ups and you will due to fear of recurrence of the HIGHLY DANGEROUS disease you may have. This keeps both the doctors and the pharma companies, happy. They get recurring income.

When was the last time a major, serious disease after Small Pox (Polio to an extent) was CURED and ERADICATED. The only reason there are successful medicines against Chicken Pox and Jaundice perhaps is because they are not generally recurring types as body develops self-immunity.

If you notice, most of the medicines available are treatments. Most of the treatments are just that and not cures. A treatment is more profitable than a Cure and that is why Doctor’s cannot cure you of anything.

A baby is born and its a…PIG!

Finally the day that I and my Pighunt team were waiting for is here. The delivery happened today. Early in the morning. There were a few complications on the way. Small fixes here and there saved the day.I got the call…’Sir! Congrats, we have a Pig!’

Those were like the best words I heard in a long time. Your sweat and toil ends up in a result that you were expecting and that makes your day. The Pig wanted a Nano launch. So we gave a Nano launch on the day that the car Nano was launched in Mumbai. Ground-breaking events I say!

We will be looking forward to the support and love of people who know us, love us and those who will start knowing and falling in love with us very soon. I am so drunk on happiness that I cannot type anymore. Let the bubbles flow…I am the proud father of a Pig!

For the first glimpse of the cute Pig check – www.pighunt.in

They will Hang the Shoe!

Originally uploaded by Nico Nelson

The humble shoe that Charlie Chaplin once made famous by eating it is now again in the limelight for being a favourite protest tool. The latest trends show that the Shoe is far more effective in garnering media attention around the globe than bullets or assassination (I am so glad for that).

Heads of States and Ambassadors now have to watch out for the next shoe that may find them. As of now 2 out 3 throws have missed there targets. But they are getting there. The Israeli Ambassador was hit in the leg by one such shoe when he was in Sweden.But with practice the throwers might hit the bulls-eye very soon.

Meanwhile the Secret Service and other such presidential details will have to work overtime and start worrying about the stray shoe as much as bullets. I believe soon Head of State press conferences or speeches might be made a Shoe-free zone very soon.

I dread the day when all those people are stuffed in to a conference room with their smelly socks and god save the President if they throw one at him.

Recent Shoe Throwing Updates:

Israel ambassador is latest shoe-throwing target

Man charged with throwing shoe at Chinese premier

Town unveils Shoe Monument in honour of the Bush Shoe Thrower

Secret to Irregular Blogging

Originally uploaded by boss allman

Many people do NOT ask me how I manage to write my blog posts so irregularly. So after much thought I have finally decided to forcefully share some tips on this fine art of irregular blogging, lest this art is lost to mankind. I must tell you that this takes a lot of finesse and craft so please do not be disappointed in case you are not able to generate results following these tips. I have jotted down some very simple steps that will help you in this task:

1. Never keep a diary or offline notepad

This helps you forget those amazing and interestingly quirky ideas you come up with spontaneously. In case you are out of reach of a computer or the internet then not keeping a diary is the way to go if you have to successfully blog irregularly.

2. Sit and stare the screen

This comes naturally when you do not have any topic to write on because you did not write that idea down in that diary which you did not buy. When you realize that you have not written a post for sometime, you are forced to think of some nonsense topic that won’t make any sense whatsoever and you will end up staring the screen

3. Post Puke

Pardon my choice of words but that is what you will end up doing when you cannot think of any good topic to blog on and your calender says you have not posted for long. So you are torn between the need to post and the lack of ideas to write and then you puke out a post that is nothing but junk.

4. Ignore your blog for sometime

Since you have puked a post there will hardly be any action on your blog. You will not see comments coming in or any interested viewers. So it will not be difficult to ignore the blog.

5. Do not network

Since you have Post Puked so do not think of making a mention of it on social networking sites such as Twitter or StumbleUpon. You do not have to worry about Digg at all since no one in their sane minds will want to Digg your Post Puke unless you claim that not digging might give you a reason to give up your life. Please don’t try that trick since you might be encouraged to go ahead and die as your contribution of Post Pukes to the Blogosphere will work in your favor.

Now since you are not getting any attention and you start feeling as if you are in an endless thankless monologue, you will start being very irregular to the blog. You will also forget your password next time you log in to post. When you click that ‘Forgot Password?’ link the next time, you know you have succeded in perfecting the art of Irregular Blogging.

I cant smile without you!

Just couldn’t help posting this here. Dedicated to an angel. An all time Barry Manilow Classic. Please excuse the corny ending, but this video was one of the better ones that I found on the tube or maybe I did not look enuff!

A Poem without a title

There are moments everyday when I feel, in my hands I must hold your face,
And look in to your eyes and say I love you.
I feel like holding you close at all times lest I lose myself in this life’s maze,
And feel your breath against my chest every morning new.

Then at other times I miss your hug and your touch,
And into my hands I yearn for the way your fingers gently slips,
Your ever so soothing caress means so much,
I find myself often reminiscing the soft brush of your lips.

I yearn to see myself in your eyes,
Cradled between your sweeping lashes with loving care;
And gentle whispers in my ears will suffice
Please hold me tight and save me from the wordly glare.

The days you refuse to talk to me are the ones that I dread
I feel so lost and helpless like a lamb
And cry my eyes till red
And pray that you find me and forgive me for what I am.

I would be homeless if not for a Refugee!

It is an interesting twist of fate I must say. I stay with my landlady who was a refugee of the India Pakistan Partition of 1947. The heavy exodus of population during the violent partition saw approximately 17.9 million people leaving their homes. Records indicate that only 14.5 million arrived at their destination countries suggesting that 3.4 million people went “missing”* Stories of horrors told by these refugees will put Brothers Grimm to shame. I try to get as much information from my landlady so that I can try and understand what these refugees must have gone through.

As told to me by my landlady:

‘I was a teenager when this happened. I must have been around 15 years old when we got Independence from the British. I used to stay with my family in Rawalpindi (now in Pakistan). In those days too Pindi as the place was more commonly called was an important city as it is today. For us a children I guess the meaning of patriotism was flamed through the national leaders we used to listen to. I remember donating my gold earrings after hearing Subhash Chandra Bose’s speech for the cause of the freedom struggle. We knew that Britishers had to leave and we had to have our freedom. When the day finally came, we all rejoiced. I believe even then the concept of two different nations did not hit us. Though Pakistan was formed a day earlier, but for us Independence was not just a day as we know today. We knew that the wheels of freedom were moving and we were going to get our freedom. So we were rejoicing and celebrating our freedom…not as Pakistan or India but as one.

Then the rumors started. We heard news of acts of violence, people being asked to leave Pakistan, especially non-muslims. Pindi was not as much affected as most of the other border cities and towns. But my parents were getting concerned since we were Hindus ourselves. Till that day, we never felt we were staying with muslims, but for us they were Indians. But then things started changing. My father was worried about our safety since we were 3 girls and 1 son besides my mother. Our relatives were already settled in the hills as we used to call it then, today they are the famous hills of Darjeeling and the adjoining areas.

So when we had to pack our bags, we as kids were excited because we felt this was some vacation. A muslim family had come and my father gave him the keys to our house. He gave his keys to his house in India and told us to stay there. This exchange of accomodation and land happended then. We did not know where his house was or what was it like. My mother believed this was all a momentary phase and the violence will subside and we can all come back home. So we never took more than necessary. We locked most of our stuff in one of the rooms and gave the keys to the Muslim gentleman and left for India.

We reached the hills and the violence started. People from both sides were being slaughtered. Luckily I did not witness any of this. We children were upbeat at the change of scenery. My mother refused to move in to the house of the Muslim gentleman since she sincerely believed that we will get to go back to our own house in Pindi. But when things became clearer, we realized that the Partition was true. It was not a passing phase of religious fervour. It was permanent. The reality did not stike us for a long time. We had become refugees all of a sudden. The loss of our own home must have hit my parents harder because that house was my parents life savings. All wiped out in a day.

We stayed with relatives for a long time. I am glad we had relatives staying here in India. But I feel sorry for all those who were not so lucky.’

Everytime I hear this, I try to read her mother’s thoughts. How she must have felt? She refused to believe that she lost her everything and she cannot return to her own home. So much so that she refused to stay in a strangers house who had given his keys and was staying in their house back in Pindi. The magnitude of loss cannot be expressed by someone who has not experienced this in life. I cannot imagine such a plight, where one fine day you are told that the home that you have been staying, the school that taught you, the neighbours you spent your life with, the streets that you roamed; are not your’s anymore.

Today I stay with my landlady and if she had not been refugee and settled in India, I would not have met her. I admire this lady and take her to be my mother away from home. She took me in when I did not have a roof over my head and was looking desperately for a house. I would have been homeless if not for a Refugee!

Source:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Partition_of_India
http://english.emory.edu/Bahri/Part.html

My Love

This is a poem written by one of my creative friends (I am so lucky to have so many of them)…All credit goes to her.

My Love’s that rainbow in the sky;
Where both rain and shine come meet;
I know that rainbows got to go;
That U see them only once in a row.
But You know somethings are meant to be;
And Our Love’s beyond reality.

So Let me drown into your eyes;
Hold you close like a child.
And when the sun and rain give life to the rainbow;
I’ll give my life to you.

My Love’s that sunset in the sky;
Where both Earth and Heaven meet;
I know horizons aren’t real;
That they only seem to move away;
But you know somethings are meant to be;
And Our Love’s beyond reality.

So Let me drown into your eyes;
Hold You close like a child;
And when the earth meets the sky and the sun sets;
I’ll give myself to you
I’ll lose myself to you.

–Anaya