Sunday, December 6, 2009
(Dis)satisfaction guaranteed???
If there’s one thing in life that you can be really sure of, its running after happiness and satisfaction eternally. How come these bare essentials of life, the things that truly matter, are also the most elusive??
I happened to have a long discussion with a certain friend this evening on a somewhat similar topic. Obviously, when two guys talk on these lines, one of them has to be in a rather disturbed state of mind – and it was him, thankfully, not me. That he later went ahead and made me aware of a hitherto unknown fact – he considers me one of his closest friends – is proof enough of it!! You see, guys have this thing about not indulging in emotional talk (maybe it makes us feel like sissies!!) and don't usually declare all that kinda stuff to each other. Unless boozed up of course, which we were not… siiiggghhhh!! :-(
Anyway, coming back to the point, my new-found best friend and I had a pretty long conversation on this delicate issue. As I went into silent mode, offering my (usually unneeded) opinions and advice only when I deemed it right, he poured out his tale of woes and frustrations. Nothing serious of course, considering that technically he’s an over-achiever, but then I realized that if a person like him can be so dissatisfied in life, what good can a less privileged person expect??
Agreed, we all have our problems, big and small; we all have our achievements too, big and small. And as time passes by, we can be sure that new ones – both problems and achievements – will keep showing up regularly. Then what makes us fail to realize that today’s problems will either be solved tomorrow or cease to be so important or just be forgotten? And that today’s achievements are bound to go through a similar fate too? Why do we all go through life with a mindset that happiness and satisfaction depend on the final result of a constant tug-of-war between our problems and achievements??
The problem of our times, I think, is that we expect too much out of our lives – but even though we aspire for a lot, we want it the easy way and without any sacrifice. In short, we are all driven subconsciously by a self-imposed carrot-&-stick policy (for once, not something that we can blame on our politicians!!), chasing an intangible future at the cost of a much more substantial present.
We fail to find happiness in our achievements, because we are already focusing hard on the next target. And we amplify our failures and problems, to the extent that they blind us from noticing the positives around us, sometimes even preventing us from accepting our mistakes and learning from them. What’s worse, we feel jealous of someone else’s success and happiness, regardless of how many hardships and sacrifices that the person may have gone through, just because we didn’t share a similar fate.
So what is the solution … if there is one??
Not aspire for anything in life, not to harbor any expectations and goals?? No, that would take the spark out of life, stop all growth, stop life itself. Besides, it’s easier said than done anyway!! Leave all problems as they are, wait for ‘destiny’ to take its course?? Not at all, we need to do whatever it takes to solve them, and by all means.
But more importantly, we need to ensure that life isn't reduced to a mere mechanical existence, one that is bogged down by chasing goals and solutions. And for that we need to realize that even though there will always be problems to tackle and goals to achieve, there will also be other co-existent and equally important things that should never be overlooked – like love and loved ones, the closest friends, the small but significant joys and pleasures that otherwise pass by unnoticed, even simple laughter out of day-to-day situations, which does a lot in making life a pleasant trip.
At the end of any bad day, just consider two things:
What if it were worse? Is it really that important when considering the bigger picture? Coz if one could imagine a day in the future – say six months, a year, two years or even five years down the line – most of today’s problems and achievements alike will fail to seem as important. Even inconsequential in the long run. What will remain though is the realization that all that time lost in frustration, worry and agony could have been used instead to enjoy the better things that were present even then, and which we ignored…
As they say, happiness is a voyage – not a destination...
Enjoy life while it lasts, make the most of it ... coz even though no one can ever know when the end will come, the inevitable final destination is the same for everyone, right?!
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Chetan Bhagat’s latest – 2 States
Frankly, I never really thought I’d write a review for any of this guy’s novels (even though I’ve liked each one of them) but reading 2 States made me change my mind. I guess the simplicity of his writing, the issues of mundane life that he usually touches upon, and the clean humor that is a hallmark of his style make most of his books a breeze to go through – there just doesn’t seem to be much to review… After all, none of his novels are spectacular thrillers, purely satirical or political works, or literally complex masterpieces!!
Well, till I read his latest, my personal favorite was his first book, 5 Point Someone. I was still a post-grad student when I read it, and I guess the way he depicted college life (though mine wasn’t as exciting by far!) did manage to strike a chord somewhere deep down. His next book, One Night @ Call Center, was a reasonably good read too, though I didn’t really identify with it. Besides, I’ve never really approved of the “call-center culture" anyway; and going by the experiences of a few friends who’ve been through it all, I don't think much of it. His 3 Mistakes of My Life reached a totally different level though, and in my opinion, he came of age writing it. The way he managed to entwine cricket, religion based politics and a love story without losing his flare for humor and satire is ample proof of it.
2 States, his latest work and a self-proclaimed autobiography, is a hilarious yet thought provoking take on the difficulties that arise in “arranging a love-marriage” between a couple belonging to different communities, and specifically, coming from different states (Punjab and Tamil Nadu). Logic states that this shouldn't really be a big issue in post modern India, especially with the kind of intermingling between people from all over the country (err... MNS, Shiv Sena, et al notwithstanding!!) and the increasingly professional lives that most “intelligentsia” lead. But just a little scratch beneath the surface reveals it all – we Indians are still far from reaching that truly cosmopolitan state of mind that is open to tolerance, change and compromise…
True to his earlier books, this one is loaded with wit & humor too, with plenty of comic situations, funny anecdotes and comic one-liners, as also the expected satirical jabs on the way the present Indian society thinks and works. One just can’t help but feel the agony and frustration of his protagonists as they go through the ups-&-downs of a seemingly thankless task that gaining acceptance from each other’s families proves to be. Spiced up with the problems created by endless cultural differences between north and south India and the usual professional hazards that typify today’s high paying yet demanding MNC culture – what you get is an engrossing yarn that twists and turns around the struggle of a deeply motivated couple trying to make sense of their ostensibly disastrous love life…
The humor begins from the acknowledgment page itself – with the author dedicating the book to his in-laws, don't wanna guess what his own parents would’ve thought at the omission!! And yes, the plot may seem a tad too corny at times, and occasionally some of the situations depicted do appear too extreme, but then the author proclaims that it’s his own true story right in the foreword, so there’s no other option left but to believe him. Anyway, one reads past those parts fast, enjoying them all the while too, coz he manages to always keep the reader guessing about what would happen next… another outstanding trait of any of his books, methinks!
To end the review, here’s one of his many witty one liners from the book, one that I have become particularly fond of:
“The world's most sensible person and the biggest idiot, both stay within us. And the worst part is, you can't even tell who is who!!”
heh heh heh … enjoy!!
Well, till I read his latest, my personal favorite was his first book, 5 Point Someone. I was still a post-grad student when I read it, and I guess the way he depicted college life (though mine wasn’t as exciting by far!) did manage to strike a chord somewhere deep down. His next book, One Night @ Call Center, was a reasonably good read too, though I didn’t really identify with it. Besides, I’ve never really approved of the “call-center culture" anyway; and going by the experiences of a few friends who’ve been through it all, I don't think much of it. His 3 Mistakes of My Life reached a totally different level though, and in my opinion, he came of age writing it. The way he managed to entwine cricket, religion based politics and a love story without losing his flare for humor and satire is ample proof of it.
True to his earlier books, this one is loaded with wit & humor too, with plenty of comic situations, funny anecdotes and comic one-liners, as also the expected satirical jabs on the way the present Indian society thinks and works. One just can’t help but feel the agony and frustration of his protagonists as they go through the ups-&-downs of a seemingly thankless task that gaining acceptance from each other’s families proves to be. Spiced up with the problems created by endless cultural differences between north and south India and the usual professional hazards that typify today’s high paying yet demanding MNC culture – what you get is an engrossing yarn that twists and turns around the struggle of a deeply motivated couple trying to make sense of their ostensibly disastrous love life…
The humor begins from the acknowledgment page itself – with the author dedicating the book to his in-laws, don't wanna guess what his own parents would’ve thought at the omission!! And yes, the plot may seem a tad too corny at times, and occasionally some of the situations depicted do appear too extreme, but then the author proclaims that it’s his own true story right in the foreword, so there’s no other option left but to believe him. Anyway, one reads past those parts fast, enjoying them all the while too, coz he manages to always keep the reader guessing about what would happen next… another outstanding trait of any of his books, methinks!
To end the review, here’s one of his many witty one liners from the book, one that I have become particularly fond of:
“The world's most sensible person and the biggest idiot, both stay within us. And the worst part is, you can't even tell who is who!!”
heh heh heh … enjoy!!
Sunday, November 22, 2009
The Manipal Rain...
It wouldn't be very wrong to synonymize Manipal with rain.
The way I look at it, there are only two seasons in Manipal: monsoons & non-monsoons. The other seasons just seem to merge with these somehow, whenever given the chance, but if there’s one thing that you can be sure of, it is the rain.
It will come!!
As I sit here beside the lone window in my room listening to some beautiful music, I am witness to a steady shower accentuating the already darkening evening outside. I guess it was plain lucky that I got an east-facing room in this hostel, coz be it any day of the year, I can always see a plethora of greenery and some really quaint houses across the road from this window. And not to forget the really beautiful sunrises that I get to enjoy regularly...
This isn’t really a time for rain here – but we do get a lot of rain all through the year, even apart from the Monsoons. Of course, the Gods go overboard in these parts showering their love during the Monsoons and of course, many people here get flustered when it keeps raining and raining for days on end… but personally, I really love it!
Maybe it reminds me of home... I’ve seen it rain incessantly for weeks here too – something that can happen only in a hilly place. And that’s another reason why I like Manipal so much: the gently undulating hillside with a view of a vast valley on the eastern side definitely resembles my very own Doon valley! Of course, the breathtaking view of the expansive Arabian Sea on the western side is something that can't even be imagined back home... and it definitely adds to the appeal of this place a lot.
Well, coming back to the rain, monsoons really are an amazing experience here. First of all, the quantity. Monsoon lasts from roughly mid-May to mid-October, give or take a couple of weeks. And in the peak months of July-August, it rains cats and dogs and it rains for weeks together without a stop – often it’ll rain so heavily that the very expression raining “cats and dogs” might be safely replaced by “bears and lions”!!
Next, the quality. I’ve seen steady rain, waxing-&-waning rain, intermittent rain, and sudden unexpected heavy showers between stunningly sunny weather. I’ve seen the rain playing with the wind, coming in all sorts of directions – even horizontally – and I’ve been caught in rain coming seemingly from all directions simultaneously, making a joke of my heavy-duty umbrella. Fact is, if the monsoon rain wants to get you, it definitely will! No matter how hard you try to avoid it or protect yourself from it. What’s the point of fighting it then, I wonder??
Saying that rains are unpredictable in the “non-monsoon” times would just be an understatement. It can rain virtually any time, no matter what the season. A couple of sunny days – a hot week at the most – and sure enough heavy clouds will come running to make amends. Often these so called “off season” rains will be accompanied by light squalls, which make the weather even more beautiful and endearing. In fact, it is the non-monsoon season that gets uncomfortable because of the sweaty humid heat typical of coastal areas, and the occasional spells of rain provide substantial relief from that overbearing heat.
It never gets cold here either, no winter season here. Rather, the typical “cold” months of November through February are the ones when there’s relatively little rain and so it can get quite hot. But whenever it does rain, regardless of the time of the year, it does get a bit chilly. Ok, not so much for me I guess (I am still too north Indian to actually feel cold here), but you do tend to come down on the fan a couple of points, even switch it off at night. And usually it will be accompanied by a cozy mist, sometimes even a fog, making the atmosphere even more romantic!!
As a nature lover, one can't help but realize that the pristine beauty of this place is all because of the substantial amount of rain it receives. When I first came here, I was really amazed by the greenery that was evident as far as the eyes could see. Manipal is surrounded by vegetation of all kinds – coastal, agricultural and forest. One sees coconut trees nearly everywhere, beautiful paddy fields along the endless stretches of its rivers and backwaters, and then there are dense forests stretching endlessly along the Western Ghats and further east. As such this place is a traveler and photographer's delight, no matter what the season. Plus, the pollution free atmosphere and post-rain brilliant light and visibility are treats in themselves! Really a place one MUST visit sometime in life!!
As I finish this piece, it's become quite dark outside and the rain has picked up again. A deluge now… there go my plans of going for a walk outside & a quiet dinner!! But then, you never know... it’s Manipal!!
The way I look at it, there are only two seasons in Manipal: monsoons & non-monsoons. The other seasons just seem to merge with these somehow, whenever given the chance, but if there’s one thing that you can be sure of, it is the rain.
It will come!!
As I sit here beside the lone window in my room listening to some beautiful music, I am witness to a steady shower accentuating the already darkening evening outside. I guess it was plain lucky that I got an east-facing room in this hostel, coz be it any day of the year, I can always see a plethora of greenery and some really quaint houses across the road from this window. And not to forget the really beautiful sunrises that I get to enjoy regularly...
This isn’t really a time for rain here – but we do get a lot of rain all through the year, even apart from the Monsoons. Of course, the Gods go overboard in these parts showering their love during the Monsoons and of course, many people here get flustered when it keeps raining and raining for days on end… but personally, I really love it!
Maybe it reminds me of home... I’ve seen it rain incessantly for weeks here too – something that can happen only in a hilly place. And that’s another reason why I like Manipal so much: the gently undulating hillside with a view of a vast valley on the eastern side definitely resembles my very own Doon valley! Of course, the breathtaking view of the expansive Arabian Sea on the western side is something that can't even be imagined back home... and it definitely adds to the appeal of this place a lot.
Well, coming back to the rain, monsoons really are an amazing experience here. First of all, the quantity. Monsoon lasts from roughly mid-May to mid-October, give or take a couple of weeks. And in the peak months of July-August, it rains cats and dogs and it rains for weeks together without a stop – often it’ll rain so heavily that the very expression raining “cats and dogs” might be safely replaced by “bears and lions”!!
Next, the quality. I’ve seen steady rain, waxing-&-waning rain, intermittent rain, and sudden unexpected heavy showers between stunningly sunny weather. I’ve seen the rain playing with the wind, coming in all sorts of directions – even horizontally – and I’ve been caught in rain coming seemingly from all directions simultaneously, making a joke of my heavy-duty umbrella. Fact is, if the monsoon rain wants to get you, it definitely will! No matter how hard you try to avoid it or protect yourself from it. What’s the point of fighting it then, I wonder??
Saying that rains are unpredictable in the “non-monsoon” times would just be an understatement. It can rain virtually any time, no matter what the season. A couple of sunny days – a hot week at the most – and sure enough heavy clouds will come running to make amends. Often these so called “off season” rains will be accompanied by light squalls, which make the weather even more beautiful and endearing. In fact, it is the non-monsoon season that gets uncomfortable because of the sweaty humid heat typical of coastal areas, and the occasional spells of rain provide substantial relief from that overbearing heat.
It never gets cold here either, no winter season here. Rather, the typical “cold” months of November through February are the ones when there’s relatively little rain and so it can get quite hot. But whenever it does rain, regardless of the time of the year, it does get a bit chilly. Ok, not so much for me I guess (I am still too north Indian to actually feel cold here), but you do tend to come down on the fan a couple of points, even switch it off at night. And usually it will be accompanied by a cozy mist, sometimes even a fog, making the atmosphere even more romantic!!
As a nature lover, one can't help but realize that the pristine beauty of this place is all because of the substantial amount of rain it receives. When I first came here, I was really amazed by the greenery that was evident as far as the eyes could see. Manipal is surrounded by vegetation of all kinds – coastal, agricultural and forest. One sees coconut trees nearly everywhere, beautiful paddy fields along the endless stretches of its rivers and backwaters, and then there are dense forests stretching endlessly along the Western Ghats and further east. As such this place is a traveler and photographer's delight, no matter what the season. Plus, the pollution free atmosphere and post-rain brilliant light and visibility are treats in themselves! Really a place one MUST visit sometime in life!!
As I finish this piece, it's become quite dark outside and the rain has picked up again. A deluge now… there go my plans of going for a walk outside & a quiet dinner!! But then, you never know... it’s Manipal!!
Sunday, November 15, 2009
2012 : WE WERE WARNED
It was at exactly 12:50 that the call from my old friend Lambs broke my afternoon siesta.
Sundays in Manipal are a big problem for people like me who’ve nothing to do – and more precisely, no-one to do nothing with! So after the heavy early morning work-out at the gym and an even heavier breakfast to compensate for it (never could resist chhole-bhature!), I’d turned to the best form of time-pass ever discovered : sleep.
And it was at that time that Lambs called and asked me if I wanted to see “2012”.
Wassdat??
…my initial reaction as I rapidly re-oriented myself to time, place & person, still a bit groggy from the sleep. Then I remembered a vague reference to some new Hollywood flick by that name. Lambs informed me that he’d been ditched by a pregnant wife and a studious sis (he’d initially planned to see “Ajab Prem ki...” blah blah) and that he was still in the mood to see SOME movie, so would I come??
Now Lambs & I go back a long long time – more than 12 years, in fact – and of late he’s been extremely busy for his friends & family, so I wasn’t gonna let go of a chance to catch up with him so easily! Ok, be at your place in 5 minutes, I said, and we’ll go together. And there I was within 5 minutes, his wife asking me to have some “kadhi-chawal” before going (she’s great at cooking!) while Lambs urging me to skip it coz, according to his sis, the show was supposed to start at 1:15. I followed him out reluctantly, though not before promising Sonia that I’ll be back to finish my share in the evening.
Off we went in his car, it was a nice and sunny day for a drive, chatting about this & that. Lambs told me that 2012 was the latest of the genre of “natural disaster” movies, and this actually brought down my enthusiasm a couple of points, coz I really think we’ve had enough of those now. Besides, no one seems to be learning anything from them anyway; we are all bent upon destroying ourselves in one way or the other!! Still, I’d nothing better to do, and spending some time with an old friend seemed immensely better than just do nothing!
We reached Ashirvad, a theater on the Mangalore-Goa highway within 10 minutes, at 1:10 to be precise. And what we saw was the longest line that I’ve ever seen outside a movie hall in this side of the country, though nothing by our North Indian standards! This many people coming for an English movie on a Sunday afternoon?? Must be a really good one, I thought, not a bad decision after all!!
We searched for some familiar face in the line, someone who might save us the trouble, but I guess that wasn’t to be. In fact, it was surprising that there were hardly any people from Manipal here, mostly they were locals and (no offense meant) quite a few of them didn’t really look like the type who’d watch English movies! Well, so what? We wanted to see it, and that was all that mattered. Though it was a long line, the ticket window hadn’t yet opened and we figured that we’d easily get two tickets.
So we got in the line … and so the patient wait began.
The poster outside showed an expansive view of a huge city ripped apart by a giant fissure in the ground and its skyscrapers and roads falling in, with the grave warning “We Were Warned” at the top and the name "2012" at the bottom. Hmmm... impressive!! But gradually the nice and sunny day seemed to transform into a hot and sweaty one, there wasn’t much to say for a breeze, and standing in the sun became a bit irritating. At 1:30 the window had still not opened, and when we asked around, we got to know that it was a really long movie (2hrs-40min) so probably it might stretch by another 15 minutes. Why do they have to wait till the show’s over to start selling the tickets??
1:45. Just HOW long is that movie man?? And the window’s still closed!
There were two Bihari guys ahead of us – they literally are found everywhere – and it was refreshing to hear them speak Hindi of that side. Couldn’t distract us from the heat though... But thankfully, a Manipal couple joined us so we had something more to chat about. Lambs joked that maybe they keep the tickets in the bank and let them multiply till each show starts! Poor joke, but right then any distraction was welcome, so we all laughed. He urged us all to wait in the shade while he stood in line, but we stayed put with him, in spite of the sun.
Then I went around the place looking for something cool to drink at least, and it turned out that there were no shops around that place selling refreshments – the only one that did was inside the hall! Wow, they think of every-bloody-thing, don't they?!! I returned to my profusely perspiring buddy, asking whether we should go. No, he said; after patiently waiting for almost half an hour, now we have to see the movie. Bloody desperate to make the most of a rare free Sunday, I mused.
2:00. Suddenly the bell rang – music to us exasperated souls – and we heaved a sigh of relief. The show must have finished, we thought, but they should display the modified timings outside the theater at least!! No civic sense these days!! Hmmm... but something seemed wrong... even 5 minutes after the bell, no one seemed to be coming out!! I went to have a look across the theater gates – and what I saw literally astounded me: I could see people still sitting inside the hall and a lot of them outside too, taking refreshments!! Can’t be THAT long a movie, to have TWO breaks, can it??
With parched throats and falling hopes, we beckoned a movie-goer. Of course, it’s the interval, he said. And how much was still left?? Maybe an hour and fifteen minutes?? But the movie is good, he smiled!! We had all become disoriented by now, I guess, and checking and rechecking our watches, we finally found a guy who works there.
Show started sharp at 1:00, he says, and the next show is at 3:30!!
WTF?? Why couldn't they have bloody well displayed this fact, especially since it’s a departure from their usual routine?? Hell, half of the people waiting outside were probably fooled like us!! The guy at the gate gave us an UNapologetic shrug in the form of an explanation and left. Of course he had much better things to do than to listen to troubled souls like us. And of course we knew better than to wait in the burning sun for another 1.5 hrs just to see some weird fatalistic movie...
Incidentally, the name. “2012”. If you skip the zero, 2:12 was exactly the time when we got to know of our mistake! And “We were warned”. We really were warned that the show starts earlier than the usual 1:30 ... just off-center by a precious 15 minutes though. And finally, the plot. Natural disasters. After what we went through, we can’t call it anything less than a mini disaster of our own!!
Thankfully, Lambs didn’t ask me to come back to his place on our return – I went straight to my room instead – while he became the butt of jokes for the pregnant wife and the studious sis!! heh heh heh ;-)
Well, that’s it. As eventful as a Sunday can get in these parts!!
(Hope you didn't start reading this thinking it would be a movie review!)
heh heh heh ;-p
(Hope you didn't start reading this thinking it would be a movie review!)
heh heh heh ;-p
Thursday, November 12, 2009
... one of those days!!
There are some bad days in life ... and then there are the really bad ones!!
So here I am, with nothing better to do at the end of a forgettable day than sit alone in front of my spastic laptop in the 15'x12' rat-hole of a hostel room that I'm forced to pay almost 5 grand a month for, than to ponder aimlessly on the day gone by while trying to write something worthwhile even though the mind is a total blank... and in general, to feel wretched!! Its been one of those days when there was nothing obviously wrong, but somehow everything felt that way - and I do mean EVERYTHING!! Went through the day trying to suppress the irresistible urge to wring the neck of any unfortunate soul who might have stepped on my toes, to shout at the slightest provocation, to be really mean to someone just for the hell of it... in short, to make everyone else's life miserable too!!
But I didn't do any of that - living and working in a "civilized" atmosphere has its drawbacks at times - which probably explains why I still feel as wretched as I was during the day, even more. Maybe venting all that bad energy, even if in a negative way, can help sometimes!! After all, being selfish at times can't really be that bad, can it?? Hell, half of the world keeps doing it day in and day out!! So why shouldn't I give it a try sometime?!
Well, I did warn everyone and anyone who cared to listen to keep a safe distance quite early in the day... guess people did listen to it after all, much to my eventual disappointment and this present "blank" state of mind!! Thought writing might help a bit, but its even more frustrating, now that I can't think of anything even remotely interesting... Hell, after the kinda entries that I've written so far here, what I was hoping for was a humorous piece for a change, not another round of letting off steam!! Guess that wasn't to be this time either...
Well, maybe some sleep would do me good. IF I can sleep, of course. After all, the day isn't over yet... lets see!!
Note: Kindly do not judge the author from the useless piece of shit that this piece has proved to be ... scroll down a bit to the previous entries and maybe your opinion will change!!
Note: If you do decide to judge - I don't give a shit, you #&@$!! heh heh heh (now at least that felt somewhat better!!)
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
The Internet Vs Intimacy
In fast paced times like these, is the “virtual” world of internet transforming into a “real” one?? It was while chatting with a certain “internet friend” recently, that I realized how open I’ve become to sharing my thoughts and feelings with others, and that internet has been a major catalyst.
This thought isn’t a new one for me either. I’ve often wondered – marveled, in fact – at the ease with which I have made new friends on the net, while doing the same in the real world still remains big a problem, as always!! With the society becoming more or less self centered these days, and busy professional lives making us even more hard pressed for time, are we becoming increasingly dependent on the internet as a medium of communication??
Take the so-called social networking sites for example. These days you’ll find practically everyone on one or more of these sites. Hundreds of “friends”, contacts, school and college mates are accessible just at the push of a few keys. As of today, I have 202 friends on orkut and exactly 4300 entries in my scrapbook!! Of course, out of those 202 “friends” maybe just 20-30 would be real “friends” – no offense meant, but most of the rest are people that I haven't contacted for ages together, and vice versa. The positive side though, is that these sites let you keep in touch at least – even if superficially – where were we without the means earlier?? And yes, it’s a great way to meet new people, make new friends, and most importantly, to rekindle old friendships. I’ll always be thankful to orkut for helping me find a long lost friend, someone whom I hadn’t been in touch with for over 23 years!!
The story doesn’t just stop here! There are sites in the virtual world where you can actually manufacture an “avtaar” of yourself who lives and functions as an individual in a virtual community… At a time when the value of one’s “personal space” has become paramount (even between close friends, relations and life-partners) maybe the freedom that these sites offer – be whoever you want, live however you like – is a welcome means of taking care of those unfulfilled aspirations, unrealized (or unrealistic) desires, failed ambitions ...and often, to nurture battered egos back to health too!!
I feel that the most ingenious part of the internet though, are blogs. Not only do they help people connect and share their thoughts with like-minded souls, they also help in channelizing one’s creative energy into the print form, open to discussion and criticism, and hence, evolving into better thinkers. But bloggers like me are people who are interested in just writing for the sake of writing, people who simply enjoy writing for the heck of it. Not for getting their work reviewed or rated, just trying to express some feelings, and sometimes to vent too!! ;-)
Anyway, that’s not really the reason why I’m writing this particular blog entry.
What I've realized – and surprisingly so – is the fact that most of the good friends that I’ve made in the last 4-5 years (meaning really close friends) have actually been online ones, some of whom I’m yet to meet in person!! Doesn’t really undermine my older friends in any way, of course, they are folks that I’ve either grown up with or who became close friends while studying (especially undergrad buddies). Yeah, there have been friends and colleagues after that, as there always will be, but will they ever reach the status of the older types?? Frankly, before entering the virtual world I wasn’t so hopeful, but having entered it, I’ve developed friendships with some of the most amazing people – and now I mean really strong ones!
As far as I am concerned, being an introvert has played a big role in this development, I guess. But sometimes I am surprised how an introvert like me could make virtual friends so easily while being inept to do so in the real world… I mean, shouldn't it be even more difficult for folks like me?? And then I realize that maybe it’s the very lack of physical presence that helps in making friends – maybe it’s the concept of personal space at work! The flesh-and-blood friends do intrude in one’s life some time or the other, whether deliberately or unwillingly. But virtual ones? Now that’s a different story!! Maybe we’re all playing safe here, the most undeniable and desirable quality of the virtual world is that one is always in control. Totally in control. In the virtual world it’s not my circumstances that dictate my actions, it’s my own free will that takes the call on which relationship to continue and which to put down, how much to share and what to withhold, and all this at the time that I consider appropriate and feel comfortable with.
There is more to the virtual world than what it seems at first glance… Like having the proverbial “no-strings-attached” kind of relationships are inherent to this world. What that means, pardon the rather crude way I’m gonna put it, is the relative emotional detachment from online friends – at least from the “casual” friends made online – as opposed to flesh-and-blood ones. Depending on the situation, one may even chose to remain anonymous at times, and no one would really mind.
There are some really good aspects of the virtual world too, that may even help us in developing qualities necessary in real life relationships. It teaches us to be tolerant, when one doesn’t get any response from another virtual member; it teaches us to be patient, when the response isn’t immediate, and it teaches us how to maintain others’ interest in ourselves so the relationship doesn’t end on a note of boredom. It also makes us understand how not to be judgmental of others and to wait for the right moment before offering advice, help or opinion. And how to listen to others rather than being a boring slob, raving and ranting about one’s own problems!!
Above all, one learns how to limit one’s expectations to a manageable and reasonable level... something that would go a long way in making our “real” lives much more fulfilling and satisfying.
Not a bad bargain in the end, huh?? :-)
This thought isn’t a new one for me either. I’ve often wondered – marveled, in fact – at the ease with which I have made new friends on the net, while doing the same in the real world still remains big a problem, as always!! With the society becoming more or less self centered these days, and busy professional lives making us even more hard pressed for time, are we becoming increasingly dependent on the internet as a medium of communication??
Take the so-called social networking sites for example. These days you’ll find practically everyone on one or more of these sites. Hundreds of “friends”, contacts, school and college mates are accessible just at the push of a few keys. As of today, I have 202 friends on orkut and exactly 4300 entries in my scrapbook!! Of course, out of those 202 “friends” maybe just 20-30 would be real “friends” – no offense meant, but most of the rest are people that I haven't contacted for ages together, and vice versa. The positive side though, is that these sites let you keep in touch at least – even if superficially – where were we without the means earlier?? And yes, it’s a great way to meet new people, make new friends, and most importantly, to rekindle old friendships. I’ll always be thankful to orkut for helping me find a long lost friend, someone whom I hadn’t been in touch with for over 23 years!!
The story doesn’t just stop here! There are sites in the virtual world where you can actually manufacture an “avtaar” of yourself who lives and functions as an individual in a virtual community… At a time when the value of one’s “personal space” has become paramount (even between close friends, relations and life-partners) maybe the freedom that these sites offer – be whoever you want, live however you like – is a welcome means of taking care of those unfulfilled aspirations, unrealized (or unrealistic) desires, failed ambitions ...and often, to nurture battered egos back to health too!!
I feel that the most ingenious part of the internet though, are blogs. Not only do they help people connect and share their thoughts with like-minded souls, they also help in channelizing one’s creative energy into the print form, open to discussion and criticism, and hence, evolving into better thinkers. But bloggers like me are people who are interested in just writing for the sake of writing, people who simply enjoy writing for the heck of it. Not for getting their work reviewed or rated, just trying to express some feelings, and sometimes to vent too!! ;-)
Anyway, that’s not really the reason why I’m writing this particular blog entry.
What I've realized – and surprisingly so – is the fact that most of the good friends that I’ve made in the last 4-5 years (meaning really close friends) have actually been online ones, some of whom I’m yet to meet in person!! Doesn’t really undermine my older friends in any way, of course, they are folks that I’ve either grown up with or who became close friends while studying (especially undergrad buddies). Yeah, there have been friends and colleagues after that, as there always will be, but will they ever reach the status of the older types?? Frankly, before entering the virtual world I wasn’t so hopeful, but having entered it, I’ve developed friendships with some of the most amazing people – and now I mean really strong ones!
As far as I am concerned, being an introvert has played a big role in this development, I guess. But sometimes I am surprised how an introvert like me could make virtual friends so easily while being inept to do so in the real world… I mean, shouldn't it be even more difficult for folks like me?? And then I realize that maybe it’s the very lack of physical presence that helps in making friends – maybe it’s the concept of personal space at work! The flesh-and-blood friends do intrude in one’s life some time or the other, whether deliberately or unwillingly. But virtual ones? Now that’s a different story!! Maybe we’re all playing safe here, the most undeniable and desirable quality of the virtual world is that one is always in control. Totally in control. In the virtual world it’s not my circumstances that dictate my actions, it’s my own free will that takes the call on which relationship to continue and which to put down, how much to share and what to withhold, and all this at the time that I consider appropriate and feel comfortable with.
There is more to the virtual world than what it seems at first glance… Like having the proverbial “no-strings-attached” kind of relationships are inherent to this world. What that means, pardon the rather crude way I’m gonna put it, is the relative emotional detachment from online friends – at least from the “casual” friends made online – as opposed to flesh-and-blood ones. Depending on the situation, one may even chose to remain anonymous at times, and no one would really mind.
There are some really good aspects of the virtual world too, that may even help us in developing qualities necessary in real life relationships. It teaches us to be tolerant, when one doesn’t get any response from another virtual member; it teaches us to be patient, when the response isn’t immediate, and it teaches us how to maintain others’ interest in ourselves so the relationship doesn’t end on a note of boredom. It also makes us understand how not to be judgmental of others and to wait for the right moment before offering advice, help or opinion. And how to listen to others rather than being a boring slob, raving and ranting about one’s own problems!!
Above all, one learns how to limit one’s expectations to a manageable and reasonable level... something that would go a long way in making our “real” lives much more fulfilling and satisfying.
Not a bad bargain in the end, huh?? :-)
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Reflections : Social Misfits ....
They are a common sight ... a person who's mostly seen alone, a person about whom people hardly know anything, a person who fails to mingle with the crowd, a person who's obviously uncomfortable in a party ...
What does it take to be a social misfit??
First of all, there is a small matter to be cleared – that a social misfit doesn’t always have to imply being a social failure. Simply put, an individual may be a social misfit even though he’s NOT a social failure; though on the other hand, a social failure usually ends up as a social misfit!
The difference lies in one’s attitude and outlook towards life. A social failure is a person who wants to fit in – and he works towards it, makes an effort to project himself positively, and actively mingles with the crowd in order to create an exclusive “identity” for himself - but eventually fails in doing so, thus becoming a misfit out of compulsion. Obviously he hates the failure, and so he always keeps working to improve the way he is perceived by others.
On the other hand, a "genuine" social misfit isn’t really someone who’s failed; it’s more like someone who’s never really tried... rather someone who doesn't even feel the need to try. I know many won’t agree – most critics will cite man as the proverbial “social animal” – but there definitely are people in this world to whom social concepts of recognition, appreciation, admiration, respect and even gratitude (from others) simply do not matter. And it isn’t that they don't deserve all these feelings from the society either – more often than not, people will shower these on such misfits (and some times begrudgingly so!) and they will take them in their stride too! What makes them different from mere mortals though, is that it doesn’t really make a difference to such individuals when they generate such sentiments around them – and they are equally unperturbed even if they don't get what they deserve.
In short, a genuine misfit has a single mantra – I don't give a damn – and more importantly, that’s usually the way he projects himself too. Which is why the society either hates him (more common) or is intrigued and attracted by him (less common). Either way, misfits end up in a peculiar state: though they are openly proclaimed as misfits, they cannot be ignored – in fact, being ignored is what a social failure has to deal with, not a genuine misfit!
The single most important quality needed to become a misfit, then, is being an introvert. I guess this point needs no explanation ... its obvious enough that a person who needs others – for materialistic needs or spiritual ones – can’t really become a misfit, a failure maybe, but never a genuine misfit. To qualify as a misfit one needs to be self sufficient and independent, in all aspects of life, and often successful too. Of course, it needs to be pointed out that a genuine misfit’s concept of success is totally different from that of the society in general, and conversely, a successful misfit doesn’t need the society to recognize his success either! The simple reason being that for this introvert, his personal success or failure is as sacred and private to him as any deep dark secret can be. And he alone is the sole judge of it.
Going by the same logic, a person having an inferiority complex (that most social failures harbor deep inside them) can never become a genuine misfit – introversion arising from a sense of personal failure or loss is actually a negative state of mind (which may become a psychiatric condition one day) and a misfit is far from being negative. Genuine misfits will never have a superiority complex either – though many people will no doubt think they do – simply because such individuals know themselves too well. In fact, one would find such people going about their lives in a totally unobtrusive manner, with neither a desire to be noticed, nor the desire to influence or be influenced by others.
Now does this make such misfits reclusive?? Not at all. Ok, so on the surface they may not have as many friends as a socially active person does, but scratch beneath the surface (if you can get near enough!) and you’re bound to find the misfit having really some strong and passionate relationships that have stood the test of time. The thread common to all such relationships being selflessness.
As stated earlier, what a genuine misfit seeks for in any “real” relationship is not appreciation, admiration, respect or gratitude; because he knows that such sentiments are bound to fade with time. What he’s really interested in is selfless intent, genuine trust (that may often border on the blind), and a relationship devoid of materialistic need. It figures then, that his friends – real friends – will be friends for life, and he’ll cherish them from the very core of his substance, the feeling being mutual, of course. Similarly, such a person will never fall in love “at first sight”, but his belief in love, true love, is supreme because he alone understands what love really is.
So finally, where does the genuine social misfit “fit” in society??
Well, this is a person who doesn’t need society, but the fact remains that society needs him. Simply to maintain a healthy balance between the have and the have-nots, the failures and the successful, the winners and the losers, and such like. He is needed for his unbiased judgment in times of conflict, for his stoic demeanor in times of crisis, and for his selfless love and friendship in times of need.
...and most importantly, for the fact that he can be – and often will be - easily and conveniently forgotten once the times of conflict, crisis and need are over!
Not that he’ll care, of course!! Coz he just doesn't give a damn!!
What does it take to be a social misfit??
First of all, there is a small matter to be cleared – that a social misfit doesn’t always have to imply being a social failure. Simply put, an individual may be a social misfit even though he’s NOT a social failure; though on the other hand, a social failure usually ends up as a social misfit!
The difference lies in one’s attitude and outlook towards life. A social failure is a person who wants to fit in – and he works towards it, makes an effort to project himself positively, and actively mingles with the crowd in order to create an exclusive “identity” for himself - but eventually fails in doing so, thus becoming a misfit out of compulsion. Obviously he hates the failure, and so he always keeps working to improve the way he is perceived by others.
On the other hand, a "genuine" social misfit isn’t really someone who’s failed; it’s more like someone who’s never really tried... rather someone who doesn't even feel the need to try. I know many won’t agree – most critics will cite man as the proverbial “social animal” – but there definitely are people in this world to whom social concepts of recognition, appreciation, admiration, respect and even gratitude (from others) simply do not matter. And it isn’t that they don't deserve all these feelings from the society either – more often than not, people will shower these on such misfits (and some times begrudgingly so!) and they will take them in their stride too! What makes them different from mere mortals though, is that it doesn’t really make a difference to such individuals when they generate such sentiments around them – and they are equally unperturbed even if they don't get what they deserve.
In short, a genuine misfit has a single mantra – I don't give a damn – and more importantly, that’s usually the way he projects himself too. Which is why the society either hates him (more common) or is intrigued and attracted by him (less common). Either way, misfits end up in a peculiar state: though they are openly proclaimed as misfits, they cannot be ignored – in fact, being ignored is what a social failure has to deal with, not a genuine misfit!
The single most important quality needed to become a misfit, then, is being an introvert. I guess this point needs no explanation ... its obvious enough that a person who needs others – for materialistic needs or spiritual ones – can’t really become a misfit, a failure maybe, but never a genuine misfit. To qualify as a misfit one needs to be self sufficient and independent, in all aspects of life, and often successful too. Of course, it needs to be pointed out that a genuine misfit’s concept of success is totally different from that of the society in general, and conversely, a successful misfit doesn’t need the society to recognize his success either! The simple reason being that for this introvert, his personal success or failure is as sacred and private to him as any deep dark secret can be. And he alone is the sole judge of it.
Going by the same logic, a person having an inferiority complex (that most social failures harbor deep inside them) can never become a genuine misfit – introversion arising from a sense of personal failure or loss is actually a negative state of mind (which may become a psychiatric condition one day) and a misfit is far from being negative. Genuine misfits will never have a superiority complex either – though many people will no doubt think they do – simply because such individuals know themselves too well. In fact, one would find such people going about their lives in a totally unobtrusive manner, with neither a desire to be noticed, nor the desire to influence or be influenced by others.
Now does this make such misfits reclusive?? Not at all. Ok, so on the surface they may not have as many friends as a socially active person does, but scratch beneath the surface (if you can get near enough!) and you’re bound to find the misfit having really some strong and passionate relationships that have stood the test of time. The thread common to all such relationships being selflessness.
As stated earlier, what a genuine misfit seeks for in any “real” relationship is not appreciation, admiration, respect or gratitude; because he knows that such sentiments are bound to fade with time. What he’s really interested in is selfless intent, genuine trust (that may often border on the blind), and a relationship devoid of materialistic need. It figures then, that his friends – real friends – will be friends for life, and he’ll cherish them from the very core of his substance, the feeling being mutual, of course. Similarly, such a person will never fall in love “at first sight”, but his belief in love, true love, is supreme because he alone understands what love really is.
So finally, where does the genuine social misfit “fit” in society??
Well, this is a person who doesn’t need society, but the fact remains that society needs him. Simply to maintain a healthy balance between the have and the have-nots, the failures and the successful, the winners and the losers, and such like. He is needed for his unbiased judgment in times of conflict, for his stoic demeanor in times of crisis, and for his selfless love and friendship in times of need.
...and most importantly, for the fact that he can be – and often will be - easily and conveniently forgotten once the times of conflict, crisis and need are over!
Not that he’ll care, of course!! Coz he just doesn't give a damn!!
Friday, October 16, 2009
A Day Spent Travelling
It was pure exhilaration, I tell you! Driving the luxury sedan… the silky smooth road winding along the Western ghats… the adrenaline pumping speed… the slightly misty after-shower weather… it was PURRFECT!!
But nothing can really be perfect, can it?! And all good things do come to an end... as does this early morning dream!! I wake up with a start, still feeling the rush of blood in my face, and its 4:32AM, 14th of October 2009, my alarm would go off in anther 13 minutes, and the long and tiring day ahead has just begun at an annoying note!!
Fact: The distance from Manipal, where I work, to Dehradun, my native place, is roughly 3000km, give or take a few hundred.
Fact: IDEALLY, when going by air as the main mode of transport, it shouldn't take more than 16 hours.
Fact: in REALITY, it never takes less than 24 hours!
Train to Goa leaves at 6:25AM.
All autowallahs in Manipal are criminals. The way they charge can’t be called anything less. Still, it’s a pleasant surprise when this one asks for only Rs.70 … at that hour I’d expect nothing less than a hundred, that too after an argument. Hmmm... so the start isn’t so bad… nearly gives me a (false) feeling of optimism for the rest of the journey!
5:45AM. I am at Udupi railway station. The train’s on time – in these parts, it’s not really a surprise. In general, this train – and there’s a train between Udupi and Madgaon (Goa) same time everyday – NEVER gets late, not more than 15-20 minutes at the most.
6:00AM. The train is announced, first in Kannada that I don’t understand, and people around me seem restless. How late could it be?? No patience these days!! But the next announcement is in Hindi – train will leave at 5:40AM. 5:40AM?? What the...??!! Wait, the next one is in English. 7:40AM this time. Now I am flummoxed!! Am I supposed to average out the time and assume it to be 6:40AM, just 20 min late??
6:40AM. Still no sign of the train, and the same announcement has been repeated 4 times since. I go to check myself – 7:40AM it is! OK, there goes the optimism!! Still, I’ve plenty of margin, I think... should still reach Goa in time. I mutter a curse, get a bag of chips and mineral water (skipped dinner last night) and my patient wait begins.
8:10AM. My train arrives, almost two hours late. No sweat, I know the usual stop is for less than 5 minutes. But today my train stays – we wait for a superfast to come and leave.
8:30AM. My train finally starts after 20 minutes, not 5, a little over 2 hours late. Hmm... this will be tight, I now think!!
A saffron clad baba is sandwiched between two Bihari laborers on the seat in front of me. (Yes, I am travelling in general class. Unreserved. Always do!) Feels nice to hear Bihari Hindi after so long! Suddenly the Baba gets up, does a peculiar jig with his kamandal, then decides to climb up on the luggage rack. As he makes room for himself to lie down, he carelessly pushes the luggage with his feet. The Biharis aren’t amused, it’s their luggage. A small argument follows – Baba tells them (surprisingly in Hindi) that they have only half a mind. A Bihari retorts that the Baba doesn’t even have that much!
For a moment, I think we’ll have a free-for-all… but even that little amusement isn't meant to be – the situation is diffused by the arrival of a coffee vendor. I feel I need it, I order it... bad choice! Its not coffee – it’s a lukewarm sweet concoction made of some obscure ingredients, none of which can be real coffee, maybe with a touch of coffee essence. I throw the vendor a silent glare – for the tasteless coffee and for diffusing the situation. He doesn’t give a shit.
Flight to Delhi leaves at 2:15PM.
The train makes good speed, as always. Usually takes about 4.5 hours to reach Madgaon – I should reach at 1PM. Tight, but I’ll make it!! Besides, flights are never on time anyway…
12:00PM. Some daily passengers board at Karwar. I casually ask them how much time it’ll take from here. 1.5 hrs they say. Oops!! Not daily passengers after all, I guess. But now I AM doubtful. Should I take a taxi to the airport or go by bike, once I reach Goa? Time silently goes by as I mull over the all important question. I hope the flight is late, as always.
1:00PM. Reach Balli. Still some time to go. Ok, now I am positively worried. I decide on taking a bike. Bikes are easily and immediately hired, cheap, and they take short cuts, a good biker can get me to the airport (around 22km) in 20 minutes. I’ll make it if I reach with half an hour to spare. Besides, flights are always late anyway…
1:30PM. Finally arrive at Madgaon, 2.5 hours late. Today is definitely NOT my day. I rush out to the bike stand – its gonna be very very tight! Now I’m silently praying for the flight to be late.
Old habits die hard, I guess. I haggle with the biker for money. He wants 250 bucks, I am stuck at 200. 3 minutes. I win the argument, but lose some precious minutes in the bargain. But that isn’t all… A minute into the ride, my biker tells me his bike is out of shape – maybe I should take another! By now I am as “highly inflammable” as the diesel tanker causing the traffic jam ahead. He calls for back up as an exasperated me wonders whether to laugh or argue or cry. I try to convince him instead that he can still make it in 20 minutes but he’s already called a back up.
1:40PM. The new biker comes, passengers are exchanged, and we’re off again. I tell him about the precarious situation, he responds by picking up speed. He’s a good guy and a good biker, deftly weaves through the afternoon traffic. We hit the highway after 10 minutes and he zooms ahead at breakneck speed. For once I am not so concerned about safety, even though he negotiates through some ludicrously placed speed breakers - one handed - while first wearing his helmet and then talking on his cellphone. Wow… I lean forward to have a look at the speedometer over his shoulder, its heartening to see that it doesn’t work at all. Cool. Thank God the rest of the bike is in good shape! We fly along the highway, and as some cars overtake us, I start having second thoughts about taking the bike… a taxi would’ve been much faster on the highway at least! My fingers are crossed… the flight HAS to be late!!
Flights are always late.
2:00PM. We reach the airport in 20 minutes, as promised. Cursing myself silently, I give him his 200 bucks and offer him my gratitude in addition – I can’t remember the last time I said such an honest thanks to anyone. The guard scrutinizes my e-ticket and compares the 10 year old driving license photo with the guy facing him. Handing them back, he comments that probably the security check is on for my flight. God, I’m saved, I think, and rush to the SpiceJet counter.
As a general rule, all flights take off late from Goa, simply because they don’t come in on time. None of my flights have ever been on time till now – NEVER. Its no surprise then that the status boards are showing all flights to be late… but I don’t see my flight anywhere on them. You see, of late my life is becoming positively diabolical, pardon the oxymoron. So on the day when the train that’s ALWAYS on time gets late by 2.5 hours, the particular flight that am supposed to take among all other flights that are late – as ALWAYS – is bang on time!!
Now what are the odds of that happening??
I get an apologetic smile from the ground staff – No Sir, the flight is on time, security check got over 15 minutes back, and it will leave in 5 minutes. I stare at her beautiful face with bewilderment as the fact slowly and painfully covers the seemingly wide distance between my ears and my brain. I‘ve run out of even the silent expletives doing the rounds in my mind. Please, I ask, the flight still hasn’t left… maybe they have some engine trouble or baggage handling problems, couldn’t you just radio ahead and ask?? Another apologetic shrug, this time with a tinge of scorn thrown in too, I think – Sir the ATC just cleared the flight for take-off and they are taxying to the runway now.
I am doomed!!
Suddenly she brightens up a bit – my hopes rise, but only to fall again as she tells me that the next SpiceJet is at 8:10PM and if I take it I’ll only have to pay around 2500 extra. Only. And no refund if I choose another carrier, of course. I can’t help notice that this is a really nice looking gal and I silently ask myself, will she be there on the night flight? Immediately the reality kicks in – of course not, you moron, she’s the ground staff!! So I turn to the Indigo counter (seeing another cutie there) and ask for their next flight. It’s late Sir, but has already taken off from Delhi, and it’s supposed to leave Goa at 4:10PM now – saying this, she smiles at me – she knows that I am probably one of the rare fliers who would be pleased to hear about a fight being late, rather than on time! And by how much would that set me back, I ask?? A cool Rs.5500, thank you!! Yeah, life sucks, and sucks big time!!
2:30PM. I head towards the reservation counters outside and indeed, those are the only options I have. Save Rs.3000 and prolong the already disastrous journey or spend an additional Rs.5500 and save at least 6 hours. Not much of a choice, I guess! I go for the next Indigo flight. I am dejected, scorned, exasperated, hungry, physically exhausted and emotionally drained. Would’ve been monetarily drained too, if not for debit cards – not only do they provide emergency money, they lessen the pinch of coughing up extra money straight from one’s pocket too – a swipe of the card and that’s it... Whew ... 5.5 grand down the drain, just like that!! I head back inside, new ticket in hand.
As I head toward the Airport Café skirting the many newly weds that seem omnipresent in Goa, I feel even more forlorn. Thank God, for food is a good anti-depressant!! I glance over the menu card and I’m shocked at the prices. Happens each time I cross the place, though they haven’t changed the rates in the last two years… 100 bucks for a burger, 120 for a pizza, 40 for a miserable little veg pattie?? The world has gone to the dogs, I tell you… People just know how to exploit these days!! I take some, though I know my tummy won’t be able to digest such expensive food. It doesn’t help the depression either – and now I have a headache to boot!
Ye aeroplane nahi hai!!
Thankfully, the already late fight isn’t delayed any further and I am spared the agony of another endless wait. As we enter the transit bus for boarding, the couple ahead of me has a tough time consoling their 3 year old. “Ye aeroplane nahi hai!!” screams the indignant little devil, clawing at the bus window in despair. He wants to be in the nearest plane on the runway. Everyone seems amused, except for the irate parents, who are relieved only when the bus reaches our plane. Some nice looking Air Hostesses invite us inside, apologizing for the delay. I brighten up a bit, but then realize I have the aisle seat. Would’ve liked a window seat, makes it easy to rest one’s head on the window and sleep. My dour-faced perpetually-bored middle-aged co-passenger doesn’t make it look too good either.
4:10PM. We taxi to the runway and the pilot informs us that though we are ready for immediate take off, there are some birds on the runway and we have to wait for their permission to leave. My headache seems worsened by the strong AC… this is definitely NOT my day!! We finally take off after a 10 minute delay which feels insignificant in comparison the day’s earlier events, the pilot informing us that we should reach Delhi by 6:15PM. I hope so!! I try to test the cute but harried staff a bit – is there any vacant window seat by any chance? The already hassled girl promises to get back to me soon. Surprise, surprise, there actually IS a vacant seat a few rows down!
I plant myself there and look out at the spectacular cumulonimbus cloud formation resting on stratus shores. But the plane levels off above them at about 34,000 feet and the sky above is a brilliantly clear blue. The popping ears are a bit of a bother, the headache a major one. I try to sleep them off, what I end up with is a disturbed sleep taken in bits and pieces. No food. I NEVER buy any food on these low cost flights – too damn expensive and rarely good in taste – besides, this is no longer a low cost flight for me anyway!
6:15PM. It's dusk as we circle around Delhi and it’s a beautiful sight as always to look at the glittering metropolis below that seems straight out of some futuristic sci-fi movie. Today I just don’t give a damn. We finally land after another 20 minutes, and the long wait to reach the terminal begins. The continuous high-pitched siren that’s been blaring since we landed seems to trouble no one else except me, and doesn’t seem to help my persisting headache either. The new IGI airport is huge – the plane taxies for another 20 minutes before coming to a stop. Incredible!!
Aasman se gire, khajoor me atke ... Which means, phalling phrom thee isky, getting istuck in date palm.
7:00PM. I exit the terminal and it feels good to be back on solid earth – and nearer home. If I get the 8 o’clock bus, I’ll be at home by 2AM, I think. Not really so bad, huh!! But there’s still more agony to come. You don’t get any autos from the IGI these days, and I know it. I stand in line for the pre-paid taxi and it’s another 30 minutes till I finally get inside a refitted CNG Ambassador driven by what looks like a 13 yr old kid. Did they check his license before giving him the permit, I wonder?? I ask him if he knows the way to ISBT. Of course, he says unruffled, and off we go.
8:15PM. The drive usually takes 30 to 40 minutes and we make good time as I try to catch some shuteye. I wake up when the car stops, expecting to be at ISBT. No, it’s not ISBT, the kid tells me, we are still in Daryaganj and we are trapped in a huge traffic jam. The crawl ahead is agonizingly slow, the heat and pollution are stifling, and I still have a throbbing headache. Silently, I curse all big cities for being so big, the Delhi Metro for constructing bridges seemingly everywhere, the rickety car I am stuck in and the kid for driving it, the Delhi Traffic Police for being a total failure, the impatient commuters for picking up fights at the slightest provocation and causing further delays. Doesn’t help much. Someday all this stored bile is gonna hurt my health. And then I curse myself for being alive!!
9:00PM. Finally we reach ISBT, 2 hours since I landed in Delhi. I rush straight to the Dehradun bus stand – ALL High-Tech and AC buses (in all 6 of them) will leave at 10:30PM, informs a conductor nonchalantly. It’s wrong, I know, they are bound by rules to leave at half hour intervals, but I don’t have any energy left for an argument. He tries to help, tells me to take the ordinary bus. I take his advice – and that proves to be a good decision – the next bus will leave within half an hour! Though it is packed, I still manage to squeeze on the front seat between a mountain of luggage on one side and a harried family with another irate kid on the other. Incredibly, I thank my stars, at least I’ll be moving ahead, instead of waiting at the bus station!!
10:00PM. Though we started almost 40 minutes back, we are still stuck in Delhi. Thankfully, the bus crosses the last major traffic snarl and picks up speed. 3 hours wasted in crossing Delhi, I think. Amazing!! How do local people manage that everyday?? Its Diwali time, the conductor informs me, all roads are full. As if I’ve never travelled before... The journey ahead will seem far longer and more tiresome than the past, I know. The jam-packed ordinary bus won’t offer much comfort to catch some sleep either. And it’s been over 24 hours since I had a proper meal. Sighhh… I resign myself to fate. And incredibly, I sleep. Not fitfully, not comfortably, and not without some bewildered breaks. But I sleep all the same, thanks to the tired state I am in.
Maybe, such days are destined so that we can appreciate the better ones and be thankful for them.
Bottom line is, all’s well that ends well.
Or, for pessimists such as me, I am reminded of an anonymous quote:
I guess I just prefer to see the dark side of things. The glass is always half empty. And cracked. And I just cut my lip on it. And chipped a tooth.
heh heh heh …
Note: I am sorry if you’ve read through this blog and are thoroughly bored … I know there was no point in writing it, but I wrote it coz I needed to, not coz I wanted it to be read!! :-p
But nothing can really be perfect, can it?! And all good things do come to an end... as does this early morning dream!! I wake up with a start, still feeling the rush of blood in my face, and its 4:32AM, 14th of October 2009, my alarm would go off in anther 13 minutes, and the long and tiring day ahead has just begun at an annoying note!!
Fact: The distance from Manipal, where I work, to Dehradun, my native place, is roughly 3000km, give or take a few hundred.
Fact: IDEALLY, when going by air as the main mode of transport, it shouldn't take more than 16 hours.
Fact: in REALITY, it never takes less than 24 hours!
Train to Goa leaves at 6:25AM.
All autowallahs in Manipal are criminals. The way they charge can’t be called anything less. Still, it’s a pleasant surprise when this one asks for only Rs.70 … at that hour I’d expect nothing less than a hundred, that too after an argument. Hmmm... so the start isn’t so bad… nearly gives me a (false) feeling of optimism for the rest of the journey!
5:45AM. I am at Udupi railway station. The train’s on time – in these parts, it’s not really a surprise. In general, this train – and there’s a train between Udupi and Madgaon (Goa) same time everyday – NEVER gets late, not more than 15-20 minutes at the most.
6:00AM. The train is announced, first in Kannada that I don’t understand, and people around me seem restless. How late could it be?? No patience these days!! But the next announcement is in Hindi – train will leave at 5:40AM. 5:40AM?? What the...??!! Wait, the next one is in English. 7:40AM this time. Now I am flummoxed!! Am I supposed to average out the time and assume it to be 6:40AM, just 20 min late??
6:40AM. Still no sign of the train, and the same announcement has been repeated 4 times since. I go to check myself – 7:40AM it is! OK, there goes the optimism!! Still, I’ve plenty of margin, I think... should still reach Goa in time. I mutter a curse, get a bag of chips and mineral water (skipped dinner last night) and my patient wait begins.
8:10AM. My train arrives, almost two hours late. No sweat, I know the usual stop is for less than 5 minutes. But today my train stays – we wait for a superfast to come and leave.
8:30AM. My train finally starts after 20 minutes, not 5, a little over 2 hours late. Hmm... this will be tight, I now think!!
A saffron clad baba is sandwiched between two Bihari laborers on the seat in front of me. (Yes, I am travelling in general class. Unreserved. Always do!) Feels nice to hear Bihari Hindi after so long! Suddenly the Baba gets up, does a peculiar jig with his kamandal, then decides to climb up on the luggage rack. As he makes room for himself to lie down, he carelessly pushes the luggage with his feet. The Biharis aren’t amused, it’s their luggage. A small argument follows – Baba tells them (surprisingly in Hindi) that they have only half a mind. A Bihari retorts that the Baba doesn’t even have that much!
For a moment, I think we’ll have a free-for-all… but even that little amusement isn't meant to be – the situation is diffused by the arrival of a coffee vendor. I feel I need it, I order it... bad choice! Its not coffee – it’s a lukewarm sweet concoction made of some obscure ingredients, none of which can be real coffee, maybe with a touch of coffee essence. I throw the vendor a silent glare – for the tasteless coffee and for diffusing the situation. He doesn’t give a shit.
Flight to Delhi leaves at 2:15PM.
The train makes good speed, as always. Usually takes about 4.5 hours to reach Madgaon – I should reach at 1PM. Tight, but I’ll make it!! Besides, flights are never on time anyway…
12:00PM. Some daily passengers board at Karwar. I casually ask them how much time it’ll take from here. 1.5 hrs they say. Oops!! Not daily passengers after all, I guess. But now I AM doubtful. Should I take a taxi to the airport or go by bike, once I reach Goa? Time silently goes by as I mull over the all important question. I hope the flight is late, as always.
1:00PM. Reach Balli. Still some time to go. Ok, now I am positively worried. I decide on taking a bike. Bikes are easily and immediately hired, cheap, and they take short cuts, a good biker can get me to the airport (around 22km) in 20 minutes. I’ll make it if I reach with half an hour to spare. Besides, flights are always late anyway…
1:30PM. Finally arrive at Madgaon, 2.5 hours late. Today is definitely NOT my day. I rush out to the bike stand – its gonna be very very tight! Now I’m silently praying for the flight to be late.
Old habits die hard, I guess. I haggle with the biker for money. He wants 250 bucks, I am stuck at 200. 3 minutes. I win the argument, but lose some precious minutes in the bargain. But that isn’t all… A minute into the ride, my biker tells me his bike is out of shape – maybe I should take another! By now I am as “highly inflammable” as the diesel tanker causing the traffic jam ahead. He calls for back up as an exasperated me wonders whether to laugh or argue or cry. I try to convince him instead that he can still make it in 20 minutes but he’s already called a back up.
1:40PM. The new biker comes, passengers are exchanged, and we’re off again. I tell him about the precarious situation, he responds by picking up speed. He’s a good guy and a good biker, deftly weaves through the afternoon traffic. We hit the highway after 10 minutes and he zooms ahead at breakneck speed. For once I am not so concerned about safety, even though he negotiates through some ludicrously placed speed breakers - one handed - while first wearing his helmet and then talking on his cellphone. Wow… I lean forward to have a look at the speedometer over his shoulder, its heartening to see that it doesn’t work at all. Cool. Thank God the rest of the bike is in good shape! We fly along the highway, and as some cars overtake us, I start having second thoughts about taking the bike… a taxi would’ve been much faster on the highway at least! My fingers are crossed… the flight HAS to be late!!
Flights are always late.
2:00PM. We reach the airport in 20 minutes, as promised. Cursing myself silently, I give him his 200 bucks and offer him my gratitude in addition – I can’t remember the last time I said such an honest thanks to anyone. The guard scrutinizes my e-ticket and compares the 10 year old driving license photo with the guy facing him. Handing them back, he comments that probably the security check is on for my flight. God, I’m saved, I think, and rush to the SpiceJet counter.
As a general rule, all flights take off late from Goa, simply because they don’t come in on time. None of my flights have ever been on time till now – NEVER. Its no surprise then that the status boards are showing all flights to be late… but I don’t see my flight anywhere on them. You see, of late my life is becoming positively diabolical, pardon the oxymoron. So on the day when the train that’s ALWAYS on time gets late by 2.5 hours, the particular flight that am supposed to take among all other flights that are late – as ALWAYS – is bang on time!!
Now what are the odds of that happening??
I get an apologetic smile from the ground staff – No Sir, the flight is on time, security check got over 15 minutes back, and it will leave in 5 minutes. I stare at her beautiful face with bewilderment as the fact slowly and painfully covers the seemingly wide distance between my ears and my brain. I‘ve run out of even the silent expletives doing the rounds in my mind. Please, I ask, the flight still hasn’t left… maybe they have some engine trouble or baggage handling problems, couldn’t you just radio ahead and ask?? Another apologetic shrug, this time with a tinge of scorn thrown in too, I think – Sir the ATC just cleared the flight for take-off and they are taxying to the runway now.
I am doomed!!
Suddenly she brightens up a bit – my hopes rise, but only to fall again as she tells me that the next SpiceJet is at 8:10PM and if I take it I’ll only have to pay around 2500 extra. Only. And no refund if I choose another carrier, of course. I can’t help notice that this is a really nice looking gal and I silently ask myself, will she be there on the night flight? Immediately the reality kicks in – of course not, you moron, she’s the ground staff!! So I turn to the Indigo counter (seeing another cutie there) and ask for their next flight. It’s late Sir, but has already taken off from Delhi, and it’s supposed to leave Goa at 4:10PM now – saying this, she smiles at me – she knows that I am probably one of the rare fliers who would be pleased to hear about a fight being late, rather than on time! And by how much would that set me back, I ask?? A cool Rs.5500, thank you!! Yeah, life sucks, and sucks big time!!
2:30PM. I head towards the reservation counters outside and indeed, those are the only options I have. Save Rs.3000 and prolong the already disastrous journey or spend an additional Rs.5500 and save at least 6 hours. Not much of a choice, I guess! I go for the next Indigo flight. I am dejected, scorned, exasperated, hungry, physically exhausted and emotionally drained. Would’ve been monetarily drained too, if not for debit cards – not only do they provide emergency money, they lessen the pinch of coughing up extra money straight from one’s pocket too – a swipe of the card and that’s it... Whew ... 5.5 grand down the drain, just like that!! I head back inside, new ticket in hand.
As I head toward the Airport Café skirting the many newly weds that seem omnipresent in Goa, I feel even more forlorn. Thank God, for food is a good anti-depressant!! I glance over the menu card and I’m shocked at the prices. Happens each time I cross the place, though they haven’t changed the rates in the last two years… 100 bucks for a burger, 120 for a pizza, 40 for a miserable little veg pattie?? The world has gone to the dogs, I tell you… People just know how to exploit these days!! I take some, though I know my tummy won’t be able to digest such expensive food. It doesn’t help the depression either – and now I have a headache to boot!
Ye aeroplane nahi hai!!
Thankfully, the already late fight isn’t delayed any further and I am spared the agony of another endless wait. As we enter the transit bus for boarding, the couple ahead of me has a tough time consoling their 3 year old. “Ye aeroplane nahi hai!!” screams the indignant little devil, clawing at the bus window in despair. He wants to be in the nearest plane on the runway. Everyone seems amused, except for the irate parents, who are relieved only when the bus reaches our plane. Some nice looking Air Hostesses invite us inside, apologizing for the delay. I brighten up a bit, but then realize I have the aisle seat. Would’ve liked a window seat, makes it easy to rest one’s head on the window and sleep. My dour-faced perpetually-bored middle-aged co-passenger doesn’t make it look too good either.
4:10PM. We taxi to the runway and the pilot informs us that though we are ready for immediate take off, there are some birds on the runway and we have to wait for their permission to leave. My headache seems worsened by the strong AC… this is definitely NOT my day!! We finally take off after a 10 minute delay which feels insignificant in comparison the day’s earlier events, the pilot informing us that we should reach Delhi by 6:15PM. I hope so!! I try to test the cute but harried staff a bit – is there any vacant window seat by any chance? The already hassled girl promises to get back to me soon. Surprise, surprise, there actually IS a vacant seat a few rows down!
I plant myself there and look out at the spectacular cumulonimbus cloud formation resting on stratus shores. But the plane levels off above them at about 34,000 feet and the sky above is a brilliantly clear blue. The popping ears are a bit of a bother, the headache a major one. I try to sleep them off, what I end up with is a disturbed sleep taken in bits and pieces. No food. I NEVER buy any food on these low cost flights – too damn expensive and rarely good in taste – besides, this is no longer a low cost flight for me anyway!
6:15PM. It's dusk as we circle around Delhi and it’s a beautiful sight as always to look at the glittering metropolis below that seems straight out of some futuristic sci-fi movie. Today I just don’t give a damn. We finally land after another 20 minutes, and the long wait to reach the terminal begins. The continuous high-pitched siren that’s been blaring since we landed seems to trouble no one else except me, and doesn’t seem to help my persisting headache either. The new IGI airport is huge – the plane taxies for another 20 minutes before coming to a stop. Incredible!!
Aasman se gire, khajoor me atke ... Which means, phalling phrom thee isky, getting istuck in date palm.
7:00PM. I exit the terminal and it feels good to be back on solid earth – and nearer home. If I get the 8 o’clock bus, I’ll be at home by 2AM, I think. Not really so bad, huh!! But there’s still more agony to come. You don’t get any autos from the IGI these days, and I know it. I stand in line for the pre-paid taxi and it’s another 30 minutes till I finally get inside a refitted CNG Ambassador driven by what looks like a 13 yr old kid. Did they check his license before giving him the permit, I wonder?? I ask him if he knows the way to ISBT. Of course, he says unruffled, and off we go.
8:15PM. The drive usually takes 30 to 40 minutes and we make good time as I try to catch some shuteye. I wake up when the car stops, expecting to be at ISBT. No, it’s not ISBT, the kid tells me, we are still in Daryaganj and we are trapped in a huge traffic jam. The crawl ahead is agonizingly slow, the heat and pollution are stifling, and I still have a throbbing headache. Silently, I curse all big cities for being so big, the Delhi Metro for constructing bridges seemingly everywhere, the rickety car I am stuck in and the kid for driving it, the Delhi Traffic Police for being a total failure, the impatient commuters for picking up fights at the slightest provocation and causing further delays. Doesn’t help much. Someday all this stored bile is gonna hurt my health. And then I curse myself for being alive!!
9:00PM. Finally we reach ISBT, 2 hours since I landed in Delhi. I rush straight to the Dehradun bus stand – ALL High-Tech and AC buses (in all 6 of them) will leave at 10:30PM, informs a conductor nonchalantly. It’s wrong, I know, they are bound by rules to leave at half hour intervals, but I don’t have any energy left for an argument. He tries to help, tells me to take the ordinary bus. I take his advice – and that proves to be a good decision – the next bus will leave within half an hour! Though it is packed, I still manage to squeeze on the front seat between a mountain of luggage on one side and a harried family with another irate kid on the other. Incredibly, I thank my stars, at least I’ll be moving ahead, instead of waiting at the bus station!!
10:00PM. Though we started almost 40 minutes back, we are still stuck in Delhi. Thankfully, the bus crosses the last major traffic snarl and picks up speed. 3 hours wasted in crossing Delhi, I think. Amazing!! How do local people manage that everyday?? Its Diwali time, the conductor informs me, all roads are full. As if I’ve never travelled before... The journey ahead will seem far longer and more tiresome than the past, I know. The jam-packed ordinary bus won’t offer much comfort to catch some sleep either. And it’s been over 24 hours since I had a proper meal. Sighhh… I resign myself to fate. And incredibly, I sleep. Not fitfully, not comfortably, and not without some bewildered breaks. But I sleep all the same, thanks to the tired state I am in.
Maybe, such days are destined so that we can appreciate the better ones and be thankful for them.
Bottom line is, all’s well that ends well.
Or, for pessimists such as me, I am reminded of an anonymous quote:
I guess I just prefer to see the dark side of things. The glass is always half empty. And cracked. And I just cut my lip on it. And chipped a tooth.
heh heh heh …
Note: I am sorry if you’ve read through this blog and are thoroughly bored … I know there was no point in writing it, but I wrote it coz I needed to, not coz I wanted it to be read!! :-p
Sunday, October 11, 2009
The Final Destination
How does one deal with DEATH??
The first emotion, once the bewilderment gets over of course, is denial. Then slowly, painfully, the reality sinks in. What next … Shock? Despair? Anger?
But what does it mean to a doctor – specifically when it’s a personal loss?
Frustration. Helplessness. And above all, GUILT.
Most would opine that a doctor is in a much better position to handle death, that a doctor is trained to deal with it. Some may say that doctors are used to it, after all, don't they see it as a matter of routine?? A few would even go to the extent of saying that doctors are so hardened into taking a stoic view of death, that they become incapable of feeling the loss to the extent that a non-medico is likely to feel.
Is all this true?? Absolutely NOT!! Yes, we doctors do see a lot of death – at least most doctors from the clinical sides do – and maybe we do get used to it. But does it mean that we don't feel the hurt?? No, it does hurt. And it hurts every time. Fact is, we are trained just to deal with it rationally and with an unbiased "cool" approach. Doesn’t work every time though. Gently ask if he / she ever developed an emotional attachment with a patient, and many will grudgingly admit that they did. Grudgingly, not because they aren’t "supposed to", but because they probably suffered for it, especially when it ended in losing the patient! Coz what we are not conditioned for is to face death – emotionally. And even more so when it is a loved one, not a patient. That’s when every “training” fails, every defense mechanism breaks down and logic becomes redundant.
Feelings of guilt after losing someone close are the most difficult to handle for anyone, whether or not they belong to this profession. Most would ask themselves if they did enough for the deceased, especially in more recent times... and usually the answer is a big painful NO. I didn’t give him / her enough personal attention. I was careless. I didn’t talk to him / her enough. I was rude just this morning, I fought, I even shouted. Every little thing that wasn’t quite right – but still manageable maybe – suddenly becomes an overshadowing wrong. And the sentiments can be worse… I was too pre-occupied with my own problems. I didn’t call the doctor / ambulance soon enough. I procrastinated in consulting a doctor earlier. And the unkindest cut of all – I wasn’t there when he / she needed me the most…
A doctor faces all these questions, and then some more. Guilt is a much more substantial emotion for a doctor than any lay-person. I could have noticed the subtle signs. I could have checked the blood sugar once more. I could have given the mildly low BP some more consideration. I could have (re)trained in giving resuscitation. I was too busy seeing patients. I was too busy “making money”!! The permutations are endless for a doctor. And worse if you belong to a “non-clinical” or “para-clinical” branch, like radiology or pathology. That’s when the feeling of helplessness becomes even more pronounced. Yes, they may be “doctor’s doctors” but as far as clinical skills are concerned there’s only a theoretical knowledge with no hands-on experience to bank on. It’s the same for other branches like dermatology or psychiatry, which hardly ever face serious situations, let alone with life-&-death decisions. One may know everything, one may think of a hundred and one possibilities, but practically, one isn’t the least prepared to handle most of them, let alone an emergent condition.
What if…?? That’s the ONE question that keeps coming back again and again to haunt a doctor after suffering a personal loss. Being a doctor ensures not only an understanding of the clinical condition of a loved one, it also translates into understanding the prognosis and limitation(s) of medical treatment in a much better and detailed way. And that is the point where the trouble starts. If the prognosis is dismal just to begin with, the feeling of helplessness starts there itself and grows with time. What use is my being a doctor if I can’t help the one I love? No “logic” can dissuade it; any amount of “rationalization” won’t help to handle it. No matter how well one is mentally prepared for it and for how long, when the final moment comes, it exposes one’s vulnerability for all to see.
Indeed, regardless of the profession one belongs to, in facing the death of a loved one every person is equal. Bitter, confused, repentant, nostalgic …and defenseless.
Maybe that’s why it’s been famously called “Death the Leveller”…
The first emotion, once the bewilderment gets over of course, is denial. Then slowly, painfully, the reality sinks in. What next … Shock? Despair? Anger?
But what does it mean to a doctor – specifically when it’s a personal loss?
Frustration. Helplessness. And above all, GUILT.
Most would opine that a doctor is in a much better position to handle death, that a doctor is trained to deal with it. Some may say that doctors are used to it, after all, don't they see it as a matter of routine?? A few would even go to the extent of saying that doctors are so hardened into taking a stoic view of death, that they become incapable of feeling the loss to the extent that a non-medico is likely to feel.
Is all this true?? Absolutely NOT!! Yes, we doctors do see a lot of death – at least most doctors from the clinical sides do – and maybe we do get used to it. But does it mean that we don't feel the hurt?? No, it does hurt. And it hurts every time. Fact is, we are trained just to deal with it rationally and with an unbiased "cool" approach. Doesn’t work every time though. Gently ask if he / she ever developed an emotional attachment with a patient, and many will grudgingly admit that they did. Grudgingly, not because they aren’t "supposed to", but because they probably suffered for it, especially when it ended in losing the patient! Coz what we are not conditioned for is to face death – emotionally. And even more so when it is a loved one, not a patient. That’s when every “training” fails, every defense mechanism breaks down and logic becomes redundant.
Feelings of guilt after losing someone close are the most difficult to handle for anyone, whether or not they belong to this profession. Most would ask themselves if they did enough for the deceased, especially in more recent times... and usually the answer is a big painful NO. I didn’t give him / her enough personal attention. I was careless. I didn’t talk to him / her enough. I was rude just this morning, I fought, I even shouted. Every little thing that wasn’t quite right – but still manageable maybe – suddenly becomes an overshadowing wrong. And the sentiments can be worse… I was too pre-occupied with my own problems. I didn’t call the doctor / ambulance soon enough. I procrastinated in consulting a doctor earlier. And the unkindest cut of all – I wasn’t there when he / she needed me the most…
A doctor faces all these questions, and then some more. Guilt is a much more substantial emotion for a doctor than any lay-person. I could have noticed the subtle signs. I could have checked the blood sugar once more. I could have given the mildly low BP some more consideration. I could have (re)trained in giving resuscitation. I was too busy seeing patients. I was too busy “making money”!! The permutations are endless for a doctor. And worse if you belong to a “non-clinical” or “para-clinical” branch, like radiology or pathology. That’s when the feeling of helplessness becomes even more pronounced. Yes, they may be “doctor’s doctors” but as far as clinical skills are concerned there’s only a theoretical knowledge with no hands-on experience to bank on. It’s the same for other branches like dermatology or psychiatry, which hardly ever face serious situations, let alone with life-&-death decisions. One may know everything, one may think of a hundred and one possibilities, but practically, one isn’t the least prepared to handle most of them, let alone an emergent condition.
What if…?? That’s the ONE question that keeps coming back again and again to haunt a doctor after suffering a personal loss. Being a doctor ensures not only an understanding of the clinical condition of a loved one, it also translates into understanding the prognosis and limitation(s) of medical treatment in a much better and detailed way. And that is the point where the trouble starts. If the prognosis is dismal just to begin with, the feeling of helplessness starts there itself and grows with time. What use is my being a doctor if I can’t help the one I love? No “logic” can dissuade it; any amount of “rationalization” won’t help to handle it. No matter how well one is mentally prepared for it and for how long, when the final moment comes, it exposes one’s vulnerability for all to see.
Indeed, regardless of the profession one belongs to, in facing the death of a loved one every person is equal. Bitter, confused, repentant, nostalgic …and defenseless.
Maybe that’s why it’s been famously called “Death the Leveller”…
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Hindustani Classical Guitar Recital - by Smt. Kamala Shankar
One of the great things about living here in Manipal is that one gets a chance to attend various cultural programs regularly. It’s no surprise then, that an international organization such as SPIC-MACAY (Society for Promotion of Indian Classical Music and Culture Among Youth) is quite active here, even though not at a full-fledged level yet. They organize two or three classical music concerts around this time each year, under their Virasat programme, bringing some highly acclaimed musical maestros to the Manipal campus.
It was my good fortune then, to savor a delectable classical guitar recital by the famed Smt. Kamala Shankar this evening. And what was even more endearing was the realization that even though she belongs to a South Indian family (born in Tanjore district of Tamilnadu), she chose to learn Hindustani classical music, and that too from an exponent of khayal gayaki, Pt. Channoolal Mishra of Benaras! Now having a soft spot for all things coming from Benaras – or Varanasi, to be politically correct! – it felt like the icing on the cake to me!! She went on to study under the sitar maestro Bimalendu Mukherjee (of Imdadkhani Gharana), and the rest, as they say, is history...
What I was treated to this evening then, was over an hour of simply mesmerizing music ... the sound was quite different from what one would expect from a Hawaiian guitar, but then it wasn’t really a Hawaiian one in its true sense – the memorable performance was delivered on her self-improvised Shankar Guitar, a modified version of the Hawaiian guitar … and I suspect that not one person present there would have felt even for an instant that it was an instrumental recital! Indeed, it almost seemed as if the unique instrument itself had come alive when placed in her hands, and started singing! No wonder, the maestro had started her training learning classical vocal, and it was only later that she took up the guitar on the insistence of her Gurus while moving ahead in her musical journey. Makes sense then, that this talented musician has developed the Shankar Guitar as a singing instrument and uses the celebrated "gayaki ang" with "Imdadkhani-baj" to display her range of Hindustani classical music.
The small but eager crowd sat enthralled for over an hour (…wish it had been longer!) by four beautiful compositions in various ragas and taals, that culminated in a Benarasi Dadra, a playful Holi number, that was so reminiscent of the fun-filled sentiments typical of the festival of colors celebrated with a flair that is characteristic of Benaras… In all, an unforgettable performance!!
A little co-incidence here, was that the now-famed musician happens to be the daughter of a famous Ayurvedic Physician of Benaras – known simply as Dr. Shankar – and what’s more, the renowned doctor (and his prodigal daughter) is personally known to my folks as a family doctor and a family friend!! This, I got to know only after the recital, after I told my father that I attended it!! Small world, isn’t it?? :-)
It was my good fortune then, to savor a delectable classical guitar recital by the famed Smt. Kamala Shankar this evening. And what was even more endearing was the realization that even though she belongs to a South Indian family (born in Tanjore district of Tamilnadu), she chose to learn Hindustani classical music, and that too from an exponent of khayal gayaki, Pt. Channoolal Mishra of Benaras! Now having a soft spot for all things coming from Benaras – or Varanasi, to be politically correct! – it felt like the icing on the cake to me!! She went on to study under the sitar maestro Bimalendu Mukherjee (of Imdadkhani Gharana), and the rest, as they say, is history...
What I was treated to this evening then, was over an hour of simply mesmerizing music ... the sound was quite different from what one would expect from a Hawaiian guitar, but then it wasn’t really a Hawaiian one in its true sense – the memorable performance was delivered on her self-improvised Shankar Guitar, a modified version of the Hawaiian guitar … and I suspect that not one person present there would have felt even for an instant that it was an instrumental recital! Indeed, it almost seemed as if the unique instrument itself had come alive when placed in her hands, and started singing! No wonder, the maestro had started her training learning classical vocal, and it was only later that she took up the guitar on the insistence of her Gurus while moving ahead in her musical journey. Makes sense then, that this talented musician has developed the Shankar Guitar as a singing instrument and uses the celebrated "gayaki ang" with "Imdadkhani-baj" to display her range of Hindustani classical music.
The small but eager crowd sat enthralled for over an hour (…wish it had been longer!) by four beautiful compositions in various ragas and taals, that culminated in a Benarasi Dadra, a playful Holi number, that was so reminiscent of the fun-filled sentiments typical of the festival of colors celebrated with a flair that is characteristic of Benaras… In all, an unforgettable performance!!
A little co-incidence here, was that the now-famed musician happens to be the daughter of a famous Ayurvedic Physician of Benaras – known simply as Dr. Shankar – and what’s more, the renowned doctor (and his prodigal daughter) is personally known to my folks as a family doctor and a family friend!! This, I got to know only after the recital, after I told my father that I attended it!! Small world, isn’t it?? :-)
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Why Doctor Blue??
The most common question people ask when they hear it first!! No, I know this is my first post here, but I've gone by that nom de plume for quite some time on orkut.com, from where it started!! of course, i've moved on to da iИtЯaИSigЄИt ЄgΩtiSt since then... guess it has a more dramatic effect!! ;-)
Well, coming back to the topic, Doctor Blue is a gift from a dear old friend - a langotiya yaar, no less - that was coined out of humor after seeing a particularly "blue" caricature that was put up as a profile pic!! But why did I stick to it?? Well, for one, blue actually happens to be a fav color of mine, and the fact that the name was "suggested" by such a friend added to its appeal!!
But does it go beyond just a superficial preference for the color?? hmmm... maybe it does!! I could tell ya, but not just yet!! Coz if I tell ya, I'd have to kill ya!! heh heh heh
Well, coming back to the topic, Doctor Blue is a gift from a dear old friend - a langotiya yaar, no less - that was coined out of humor after seeing a particularly "blue" caricature that was put up as a profile pic!! But why did I stick to it?? Well, for one, blue actually happens to be a fav color of mine, and the fact that the name was "suggested" by such a friend added to its appeal!!
But does it go beyond just a superficial preference for the color?? hmmm... maybe it does!! I could tell ya, but not just yet!! Coz if I tell ya, I'd have to kill ya!! heh heh heh
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