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.
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
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.
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.
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!
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.
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!
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.
I realized this when I was listening to George Carlin – How’s your dog? from his 1976 album ‘On the road’. Yes I am a Dog’s man. A Ladies man; may be…but a Dog’s/Bitches man; for sure.
I have always loved dogs. And I seem to get along very well with them. We have always treated each other with respect. My cousins have been bitten in their childhood, but fortunately I managed to avoid those teeth on my bum! I never figured out how dogs seemed to accept me so easily. I did try to theorize though.
My logic was that since I hate cats and I am allergic to them, I figured dogs could sense my disliking for their greatest foe. And so they assumed I was on their side in their war for world domination (Remember the Cats & Dogs movie!) I have been clawed and bitten by cats and I know for sure that the cats sense my lack of liking towards them. But not dogs…dogs are so happy to see me. I never had a pet dog all my life. I hope I will some day get one but after I learn to take care of myself.
Yet they love me so much that when I go to a friend’s place to meet a new dog, they go wild with excitement. They wag their tails as if they were trying to fly like a helicopter. They jump around and don’t have the weirdest idea what to do next! The dogs tend to lose their senses around me. I wish I could evoke the same reaction in all the women I meet. Works on some I must say
The owners tend to get flustered and embarrassed. And they keep repeating that their dog never acted like this with anyone except for one odd family member or so. Then they would look adoringly at the dog, who by now has kept it’s head on my lap and looking at me all dovey eyed; and proclaim that the dog loves me already.
After such intimate encounters, I stared to see a pattern. It was the bitches (female dogs to the polished ears), that acted in a peculiar way. The moment they used to see me, they would show all the excitement and then start showing their Bum to me. Yes…they jump, wag, lick, run, sit, stand and what not and then turn around and show their bum to me. This is the part where it gets embarrassing for the owner and everyone tries to ignore the bitch just like one tries hard to ignore a small kid walking across the room naked. Of course, it is very difficult to ignore too since the dog like the naked kids tend to be not so quiet. The owners start wondering if the bitch is in heat. And I noticed this phenomenon not with just one breed but across different breeds including Pomeranian, Labradors, dobermans, the street bitches…all of them.
At first I thought they must be really high or something. You know high on hormones or even grass. Then I thought I might be releasing some dog like pheromones which made me smell like a potential mate. I had some real nightmares trying to understand this weird phenomenon. So I decided to look it up on the internet. I did not find many references. But on Yahoo! Answers I came across the same question – Why does my dog show its bum to me?
I read and then understood that it seems it is the way a dog shows its submission. The dog is accepting my dominance over her and wants to show that she trusts me. Its her way of accepting me into her life…by showing her bum to me. Now I feel so happy. I look back fondly at all the Bitches who showed their bums to me. I am not embarrassed anymore. I now know they love me, they trust me, they accept me…I know now that I am a Bitches Man!
I saw the drizzle. It was like…how do I compare this divine phenomenon? Probably the closest experience one might have had is going to a salon for your haircut and then he uses that Spray to wet your hair. That spray is what I am talking about. The coolness and the divine feeling the of the spray against your face is absolutely heavenly.
I saw the drizzle as I looked out of the window. I wanted to experience the spray of the beautiful rains. The freshness, the greeny clean feeling. So I decided to take my bike (before you imagine a superbike, I correct myself)…I decided to go on a ride on my Kinetic. I hope most of you have tried this. When it drizzles slightly and the sun is also out, take the bike out for a spin to feel that spray of heaven on your face. The gentle brush of the curtain of water that leaves you fresh.
No, I am not talking about the rain drops; not the rain drops. They are like pellets when you are riding a bike. They hurt. No, I am talking about that silver spray of rain mingled with the sunlight. It feels as if you are passing through a golden veil made of the finest threads of water.
So there I was on my bike, without a jacket. I looked up and felt the drizzle against my face. But I had to feel it better and that is possible with the bike moving. So I started off. I had to negotiate a slope as I left my home and was very careful. Anybody who rides bikes will tell you how lethal a combination mud and water is. I tried to ride very carefully with no use of brakes to avoid skidding. BUT…skid I did.
This old uncle came from nowhere as if he was David Copperfield, and I had to brake hard to avoid breaking our bones. Luckily the bike skidded yet I did not lose balance and managed to bring it to a halt before I hit the antiquity before me. He walked away shaking his head as if I was at fault.
I moved on. I could not let such small hiccups steal my heavenly delight. I decided to go to this military area which has excellent roads with hills on one side and fields on the other. I made up my mind that such a treat from the skies cannot be relished in a better setting than that. So I zoomed towards that road.
I finally was on the military road. Oh by the way, I wear spectacles and anyone who wears them in the rains knows that after sometime you really start wishing for a wiper to take care of the glasses. But then I could see the same way a person sees through a car windshield when the wiper doesn’t work that well. But these things were not really a concern. I was here to take in the rains and that I was determined.
So here I was. Enjoying the spray of water against my face (no helmet). The coolness of the water and the warm sun gives you a feeling that is so difficult to describe. The green hills and fields on either sides added to the experience. The drizzle (just like the barber’s) caressed my face. I opened my mouth and put out my tongue. The drizzle melted on my tongue with the sweetness of a candy. I wanted to leave my hands and throw them up in the air. But I was sensible enough to realize the after affects of doing that so I calmly held on to the bike handles and continued to soak in the rain.I was wet and enjoying the rains.
Finally I stopped. Not because I got tired. You can never get enough of the drizzle. But because it was very very difficult to see anymore through the glasses. I parked my bike and then removed my glasses to wipe it. Hmmm….the glasses were all muddy. I wiped it anyways and was still wondering. I wore them back and suddenly I saw things in a clearer perspective. I noticed that my T-shirt was all streaked with mud too. As if someone had put me under a fountain of muddy water. I looked in the rear-view mirror and was shocked to see the face staring back. My face was covered by a veil but not with the golden one I mentioned earlier but with a brown one. My face was covered with muddy water.
Then I saw. I was following a big truck and it did not have a mud flap. So now you know the origins of beautiful spray of freshness. I did not dare to open my mouth to check the candy on my tongue. I rode back home, for a shower!
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…
There are moments everyday when I feel, in my hands I must hold your face,
