Of being Loved FIRST and being Loved forever :)

An old favourite by Heartland :)

Look at the two of you dancing that way

Lost in the moment and each others face

So much in love your alone in this place

Like there's nobody else in the world

I was enough for her not long ago

I was her number one

She told me so

And she still means the world to me

Just so you know

So be careful when you hold my girl

Time changes everything

Life must go on

And I'm not gonna stand in your way

But I loved her first and I held her first

And a place in my heart will always be hers

From the first breath she breathed

When she first smiled at me

I knew the love of a father runs deep

And I prayed that she'd find you someday

But it still hard to give her away

I loved her first

How could that beautiful women with you

Be the same freckle face kid that I knew

The one that I read all those fairy tales to

And tucked into bed all those nights

And I knew the first time I saw you with her

It was only a matter of time

But I loved her first and I held her first

And a place in my heart will always be hers

From the first breath she breathed

When she first smiled at me

I knew the love of a father runs deep

And I prayed that she'd find you someday

But its still hard to give her away

I loved her first

From the first breath she breathed

When she first smiled at me

I knew the love of a father runs deep

Someday you might know what I'm going through

When a miracle smiles up at you

I loved her first

A Genesis of sorts?

Sept 23rd, henceforth shall be marked red in my Diary for the years to come. It, certainly is not a feeling of bliss, however I am celebrating and whilst I am doing so, I am awed at the person I have grown to be. Probably at the end of the day, I would pat myself on the shoulder and say, “Well done, Chicken Little!”

Until there’s a defibrillation, this blog and all the others of mine would remain ignored.
It is a new beginning, I guess!

So long and keep well.
Lots of Love :)
God Bless!

What eet ees!

Utter joblessness has forced me to post this one. This one is dedicated to all of you who have come to Chennai for ‘Bread and Butter’ and think You are uber-cool, when you aren’t .

Observation #1: You know you don’t even measure up to the standards of the least fashionable in your city and you call my city ‘conservative’. You storm into a restaurant and blurt, “you know, dude, the smallest shop in Bangalore/Bombay/Hyderabad is a lot better than this. I understand “sorgame endraalum, adhu namma oora pole varuma”. If that be the case, might as well stay in your city.

Observation#2: My oh my! Chennai, for your information, has only one season: HOT. For God’s sake, do not try layering your clothes here. Not that I claim I have a very good fashion sense, but trust me I have Common sense. So, the next time, you find anyone who has layered their clothes, you know who they are *Are you thinking what I am thinking!!!**Sheepish grin*

Observation#3: Idlis aren’t idlis when they are bought from the bestest shop. Homemade idlis are homemade idlis and don’t you dare give that dirty look, the next time you savour “Chennai’s own” delicacy. We make Amazing Sandwiches too, If you didn’t know that, Check out Alsa Mall, when you are free and don’t crib that we don’t know what Sandwiches are! I can Bark too, beware of me!

Observation #4: If you belong to that ‘bunch’ of men/boys/babies who are ‘enga oor’ mappilais, Chennai’s girls are grown up/developed enough to get rid of that ‘kal aanalum purushan’ thingie.
Don’t you pretend to have the most wonderful outlet at your mummy’s place and try wooing her back home. (This is for the dedicated Mr. Husband, and Paavam Mrs. Wifey)

Observation#5: We (read girls) DON’T look at you as some alien species, you are after all a guy, and should you pretend to act smart, the Levator palpebrae superioris muscle or is it Orbicularis Oculi, function effectively. If you know what I mean!

To be continued....

Enga area ulle varadhe!

"OK, I will name my kid, when I have one that is, with a name that begins with ‘A’ or ‘B’ or any other alphabet, with ‘I’ at the extreme end!” This used to be my usual reply for ‘Epdi panne’ at the end of Practicals.
Now being in the second batch(read Last batch) has its own advantages and disadvantages. Perfectly balanced you say? Nah! When disadvantages outweigh the advantages, anything be it as serious as a relationship or something as simple as to own a pen, is disastrous.
The Second batch-ers are the brilliant ones. How you ask. I have always been there. Do you need a better reason? That apart, we always knew what the Q paper would contain. It’s as simple as to cancel out what the first batch got, and the remaining is all ours :P So we always knew what we had to study.
* We had extra time to prepare inspite of the limited portions, the evening that is and the next morning, when the first batch occupies the lab.
* We had FUN sitting in the AH gallery, cos it’s right beside the Lab, the only partition being the landscaped area with the beautiful, big, rare, or so they say, Ravenala madagascariensis. Fun included commenting on the External invigilator, dubbing (This is serious business, not meant for public reading) and ROTFL-ing for some stupid joke.
This concludes the advantages.
For the disadvantages,
* D, my Soulsister, and J, my Best Friend, used to laugh at me from the lab. I used to be jealous. That’s all I am saying. I am not saying anything more.
*Having AMPLE time to study was/is the biggest disadvantage For in the evening, we had phone call discussions which went late into the night. That was when I changed my Postpaid to prepaid and it’s been that way ever since!! And the next morning, we would be like “ O, C’mon, we still have time, it’s only in the afternoon”
Me: “I am hungry”( which I am perpetually)
S: “God!! Thanks for reminding, I am hungry too!” “
L: “Awrite let’s head to the canteen”
Y: “And we can study there”
Verbatim, before every Practical session, the aforementioned used to be the starter.
8:30-11:30: Breakfast time.
Then either of us would blurt, “People, did you see, the time is 11:30!” and either of us would say “The examiner is human too. She/He needs to have food” BTW, He or She made all the difference. According to us, He’s were lenient, and She’s were ‘not-so-lenient’ And there are many other analogies which, again aren’t meant for a public blog :P
* While we ‘Tried to study’, the ‘not-so-smart’ First Batch-ers used to distract/scare(not that we got Scared)/taunt us
* The external examiner, by this time would know how the girls are, so would treat us with ‘respect’(pun intended)
And the story continues....

You can always walk into class late, before your name is called out, that is and rest assured that the last bench is all yours :D That way, being a gallery, you can sit at the top, finish the pending record work while pretending to listen, talk about boys/men/babies whatever (all three being the same), send messages, and importantly catch up on your lost sleep and wake up when the lecturer says “Thus the trp/lac operon functions”

You can daydream without complaining when the attendance is being called out trusting that the person next to you would nudge you awake. However, my Soul-sister never did that; and Pamela ma’am would sing her usual song “You are Daydreaming again! I am not giving you attendance” followed by a Paavam expression on my face and then “This would be the last time, mind you”

Last times are forever. Yet Times never last. One of those times, when you forgot your Biotechnology and wished for genetic mutation so that the human genus never ages.
I miss you, WCC, and D, like yesterday, a little more than that, to be more precise, I wish I could come there again, under your Apple Blossom trees, and talk about all the things that we used to talk about and not dismiss them as being unwanted and talk about ‘Swine Flu’ and how the Swine “Flew” and the weather instead.
C'est la vie.
If nothing at all makes sense to you, don’t you worry, you were not meant to understand anything at all, absolutely!

Once upon a time...

Once upon a time, I was born in this beautiful city called Madras. There were roads with trees flanking and everytime someone older to me took me for a stroll, they used to say, “King Ashoka planted these trees” Sunshine was much awaited, and we had FOUR seasons, mind you, FOUR!!! Mornings smelt of Keerai and Vegetables, earthen ware, Turmeric, KumKum, and fresh flowers on Tana Street. The roads used to be wide enough to play and playing for me and my cousins and friends meant crossing the road, simply for fun, running on the road, walking on the road, sitting on the road etc, all on the road. So you see, the conclusion of the matter is that excepting very sensitive and personal issues, everything else was done on the road. This post is not about Roads

Once upon a time, Anna Nagar used to be a forest and Athai’s house was according to us, located in a Jungle!!( Athai, I’m sure you wouldn’t read this one) Auto drivers did not take us beyond a certain point, so we had to walk all along the narrow roads. This post is not about Anna Nagar.

Once upon a time, friends used to be just friends, no bestest friend, best friend, good friend, special friend, timely friend, lovely friend, Friend ‘madhiri’, acquaintances, family friend, ‘just’ friend and the like. Absolutely no discrimination whatsoever. I have all these today with plenty more additions to the list. This post is not about Friends. Reminds me, my friend from Tana Street, S, celebrates her B’day today. Happy B’day and lotsa luv, S. God bless you. BTW, this post is not about S :P

Once upon a time Taramani used to be a name unheard of, it then became some name, the progressed to a name, and now, the name. Taramani used to be like Tana Street, they say not that I have seen but it was quite OK, compared to my part of city.

Once upon a time, we used to ride on scooters, cycles, drive cars to really long distances and come back home, sharing our story. Anyone who goes out of the house, for any reason was expected to be there at an expected time.

I am disturbed today. I am faking a smile (which I’m not good at) and my ‘good’ friend calls it ‘being annoyed for trifling’ matters. He doesn’t know the reason, neither do I want to advertise it.

Yeah, as trifling as having spoken to a friend at 12.00 noon yesterday, waiting for her call at 1.00 and not having received it
As trifling as having to hear her mother SCREAM on the phone
As trifling as to know that a Lorry ran over her and her bike
As trifling as to plead not to go ahead with an autopsy, cos’ there’s absolutely nothing left of her
As trifling as to not have her body at home(atleast that) for reasons whatsoever.
As trifling as to know that I have lost a friend of mine.
RIP, Dear Girl. The World will miss you, and so will I! And no, I’m not crying for I know that someday we’ll all meet on the other side.

P.S- I am glad to have many ‘genres’ of friends, cos’ this loss has made me realise, YET AGAIN, that the value of Friendship is not known until it’s lost.

[...]

How much does it cost to re-build Faith? A talk that lasts for ten minutes? The first Sunday-school song you learnt? A simple prayer? Holding hands?

God works in mysterious ways, but mostly He is POINT-BLANK!

P.S- Managed to have Samosas and Green Chutney! Yay!!

I love the pit-pit-patter of the raindrops…

Monday morning and it’s unusually raining in the city, the kind of weather that makes you feel like staying snug in the bed, all day long, least till the rains stop. It isn’t pouring that heavily but this drizzle would suffice for the Chennai Roads.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas. Have always associated the rains with the Christmas season, well that’s technically winter in Chennai (read Fourth Summer) and it wouldn’t be a surprise to get drenched. Nothing can beat the time sitting beside the Christmas tree, with a lone Chandelier for that dramatic effect, a CD to set the mood right and a hot cuppa. In addition, the Half-Yearly Exams! A 60% score is considered big in the fraternity :P

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I remember having walked in Knee-Deep water to go to school, for being a Teacher’s Daughter never ever gave me the option to stay at home. One consolation though, My Soul-Sister would also be there cursing the “Family of Teachers” we came from. I am being the perfect Sister today, Fighting with my Brother, that is. Apparently, Mom doesn’t want her beloved son to fall sick. Hello! I wasn’t allowed to bunk School, even College, mind you, when it rained. And that was the first time ever, I had used Public Transport, The MTC. Having to Travel by Bus is not a joke, any Chennaiite would know that and for a first timer...

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Feel like shopping at Kalpadruma. Oh, the Choice of Indo-Western is awesome there. Been sometime since I did some proper shopping, though last week I had hit Pantheon Road. Shopping also means Coffee and Burger at CCD, or simply Window Shopping at Spencer’s or Ispahani. I might indulge today, considering the fact that the rains have set the right mood. Perhaps that’s why they say, Save for a Rainy day!

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A Mochalicious Frappe, or that perfect Filter coffee with Samosa and Green Chutney, Test papers to make boats, A long walk in the rain, this is my Agenda for the day. Being Single does give you so many options, absolutely no regrets. For those of you who have my Number, text me, and I would take you along!

Let’s Go SHOPPING! Game, anyone?

I love the pit-pit-patter of the raindrops...

Monday morning and it’s unusually raining in the city, the kind of weather that makes you feel like staying snug in the bed, all day long, least till the rains stop. It isn’t pouring that heavily but this drizzle would suffice for the Chennai Roads.

---

It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas. Have always associated the rains with the Christmas season, well that’s technically winter in Chennai (read Fourth Summer) and it wouldn’t be a surprise to get drenched. Nothing can beat the time sitting beside the Christmas tree, with a lone Chandelier for that dramatic effect, a CD to set the mood right and a hot cuppa. In addition, the Half-Yearly Exams! A 60% score is considered big in the fraternity :P

---

I remember having walked in Knee-Deep water to go to school, for being a Teacher’s Daughter never ever gave me the option to stay at home. One consolation though, My Soul-Sister would also be there cursing the “Family of Teachers” we came from. I am being the perfect Sister today, Fighting with my Brother, that is. Apparently, Mom doesn’t want her beloved son to fall sick. Hello! I wasn’t allowed to bunk School, even College, mind you, when it rained. And that was the first time ever, I had used Public Transport, The MTC. Having to Travel by Bus is not a joke, any Chennaiite would know that and for a first timer...

---

Feel like shopping at Kalpa Drama. Oh, the Choice of Indo-Western is awesome there. Been sometime since I did some proper shopping, though last week I had hit Pantheon Road. Shopping also means Coffee and Burger at CCD, or simply Window Shopping at Spencer’s or Ispahani. I might indulge today, considering the fact that the rains have set the right mood. Perhaps that’s why they say, Save for a Rainy day!

---

A Mochalicious Frappe, or that perfect Filter coffee with Samosa and Green Chutney, Test papers to make boats, A long walk in the rain, this is my Agenda for the day. Being Single does give you so many options, absolutely no regrets. For those of you who have my Number, text me, and I would take you along!

Let’s Go SHOPPING! Game, anyone?

Sleepless in Chennai

This has been the condition for the past two weeks. Have been helplessly trying to get some sleep, rolling over the bed, all in vain.
Reason #1- The left nasal tract is blocked with phlegm (I have confirmed, it’s no Swine Flu)
Reason #2- It happened, all over again, like a fresh new start.
Reason #3- Owing to the above two, I am shattered, just like the last time.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They say, For every choice you make, you’ll end up paying a price. I’m happy for the choice I made, but not the price I’m left to pay. It’s surprising how someone can trample all the sacred spaces, have the audacity to say “It’s been there all along, only didn’t have the courage to show up”[.....]
You either have a heart big enough to let go or stand up, fight for what you want. I am doing neither!

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I have begun to feel helpless, neither helping where I had to, a little bit more and a little bit more than yesterday. Not sure if I should call it guilt or mere selfishness, I have walked away from many things. To me, it only translates as being selfish. And yes, though blatantly I claim to have let go, there’s that bit of fear, longing nailed to the flesh.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Perhaps we’ll see all this in a different light or have a good laugh over all that happened,
Perhaps we'll truly discover the place called home, feeling at home.
Maybe tomorrow, maybe the day after, maybe someday. Period.

Fatten the calf, Father! The prodigal is home! (Outlet-II)

Yet another Saturday Evening with all its Annoying Glory, pun intended. A sense of non-belonging at a place where belonging happens mandatorily, atleast that is how it has been (to be read should be); and has been elsewhere where belonging is a forced phenomenon! Identify, you should with the ‘being discussed about’. The outlet has begun to seep again, yet again, after a mighty while, should take pride as well as shame in saying so.
A moment in time When words have to be forced, coaxed, and cajoled out of the larynx and the nimble vitrified fingers; when there is absolutely nothing to be propagandizing about, let alone thought about; a writer’s block if I may call it so; yet writing with an ease (punching the keys with all might) as though all’s well though nothing is; a pretence donned on so professionally; hating to see and hear what I see and hear; a feeling of having looked at someone repugnant/repulsive right from the first instance, reason not known, I do not, hence I do not!
Uncontrollable Lachryma in vain controlled. As long as the roof is over my head, I shall pretend to belong.
So, Fatten the calf, Father! The prodigal is home!

Garbled!

At mid-nuit!
Perhaps "La Belle Dame sans Merci"?
To say or not to say?
Confused, again!

Daddy's Girl

With an exam to go tomorrow, I am here, least bothered about it, for I wouldn’t be doing justice if I don’t post this today, atleast.
_____________________________________________________________________
If at all I am here today, a major part of it I owe to Daddy. “Daddy’s girl”, I proudly call myself, quoting Arch, I haven’t wished him today. I don’t see a reason behind wishing him, but the shock of my life came when Prem dropped home and gifted Daddy a Pen and said, ”Happy Father’s day, Perippa!” I must admit that when he said that, I felt a stab of jealousy, a feeling of possessiveness, a void!
_____________________________________________________________________
I reminisce the days when I used to ride pillion on his Bajaj Scooter, a shorts-T-shirt clad little girl grinning with excitement everytime the Scooter went past a Lorry, asking, “Daddy, namba than first ille?” (We came first, didn't we?)
Right from waking me up at 7:00 (Amma always insisted 6:00), Ironing my Uniform, packing lunch, getting me ready for school to that final “Bye”, it was Daddy’s job and he treats me the same today.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
I saw him bored with tubes in the ICU, a sight that I didn’t want to see. The doctor said, “Appa ve pakradha irundha ippo poi pathukko” (If you want to see your father, you can do it now)
With the little strength he had, he smiled and I cried, they dragged me out and never let me in after that!
I saw him come home a month later, God knows what made me not to talk to him for quite a while!
______________________________________________________________________
21 June 2009
“Daddy, Chocolate Milkshake varumpodhu vaangittu varingala?” (Daddy, can you get me Chocolate Milkshake while coming home?)
“Avalavu thane, unakku illadhadha!” (Anything for you!)
“Avale spoil panradhe neenga than!”, I could hear Amma saying that (the usual BGM) (You spoil her!)
I don’t know why I cried today, but I did!
____________________________________________________________________
For all that you have done for me, Daddy, I know, I haven’t been equally good. But trust me, I will always be your little girl and you will be the man I adore for life.

Here’s wishing you A very Happy Father’s day and lots of Love!

The outlet

How passive can it be?! Can't help but calling this blog that. Originally meant to be a diary of my WCC days, and I digressed; digressed to vent my anger; to record my day's eventful happenings. Eventful is the word, for all the reasons. I had not intended to open this to the world, and then did. Indecisive me!

I am not a writer, but love to write. I blog under a rubric, ironically every visitor refers to me by my name :P

Yesterday, someone walked up to me and said, "So you are...., I happened to read your blog" How embarrassing, atleast to me. I turned red, I flushed apparently disgusted!

Read a few 'poems'(I hate to call them that way) of mine to Daddy, and he said "Step into the reader's shoes, put it across". For one, the very reason for the existence of this blog is, I get to introspect and ruminate, personally; and I am very glad that the friends who forced me to re-open the other blog, do not understand what my writes mean, atleast most of them. And sometimes they rip it apart and scatter the monochrome, and the naked stands helpless.
I reiterate, I am not a writer. I would never want anyone to read, let alone understand. My thoughts have never had a sequential flow, and I take pride in saying so. Atleast that way, the humongous decaying stuff inside the cranium gets to find a way to the paper. I shall conclude very soon :)

Tail-note: If you know me and my name, please do not make mention of it anywhere here in this space, I pray; and this outlet would continue to seep, quietly so!

Some things are meant to be!

A friend of mine recently joked to another, with me sitting right beside them, and considered invisible. “Dude, You know why people write?(‘people’ to be read ‘me’)It’s because they can’t talk!

And it dawned upon me as wisdom. Perhaps, I really can’t talk. Not that I am aware of, because talking comes easy to me and habitually. I have always been the ‘talkative’/’interactive’/’extraverted’ girl until the gale blew and things took a turn. Perhaps I should have talked. I could have. But that’s not the way I have been brought up. If at all education, at school, at college, at church and at home means anything at all to me, it’s all about knowing how to behave.

But then again if only I had given it back, I wouldn’t be here feeling resentful, fighting my tears alone, secretly (now made known).

I feel whatever has happened is repeating itself today, in particular. I cannot ask Why, ‘cause I know my Why’s have never had answers!

I have exams coming up. I have not given my best, thanks to Life. In fact, I see no purpose behind giving it all, because I stand here as someone who strived hard, won , gained only to have lost it all. Every ounce of strength reduced to nothing, absolutely! At the same time I am reminded, I have nothing more to lose, than my Hope, just that.

For every fall, I have stood up and have fought.

I still can.

Here I go again, making a wish and starting it with a simple childlike prayer:

“Lord, when my soul is weary
and my heart is tired and sore,
and I have that failing feeling
that I can't take it any more
then let me know the freshening
found in simple, childlike prayer,
when the kneeling soul knows surely t
hat a listening Lord is there.”
Ruth Bell Graham
Women's Devotional Bible

“More things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of” but at the end of the day, I’d still have to accept that Some things are meant to be!

बच्पन

बार बार आती है मुझको

मधुर याद बच्पन तेरी

गई ले गई तू जीवन के

सबसे मस्त खुशियाँ मेरी

वह बोली सी मधुर सरलता

वह प्यारा जीवन निष्पाप

क्या फिर मिटा सकेगा

तू मेरी मन की संताप...

Now more than ever...

When I started my journey in fresh childlike trust
I believed that the Lord’s way was best.
I would read in His Word how He mothered the bird
And grieved when it fell from its nest.
How I felt His delight when I chose to do right,
And I prayed I would not make Him sad.
We would meet on the way in the cool of the day,
What a pure sweet communion we had.


Oh, but now more than ever I cherish the cross.
More than ever I sit at His feet.
All the miles of my journey have proved my Lord true,
And He is so precious to me.

The road I have traveled has sometimes been steep,
Through wild jagged places of life.
Sometimes I’ve stumbled and fallen so hard
That the stones cut my soul like a knife.
But the staff of my Shepherd would reach out for me
And lift me to cool pastures green.
With oil of the spirit anointing my wounds,
There I’d rest by the clear healing stream.



Is Love’s Old Sweet Story too good to be true?
Do you find all this hard to believe?
Has the cruel world we live in so battered your heart
That the hurt child inside you can’t grieve?
I can’t say I blame you.
I’ve been where you are.
But all I can say is
It’s true!
You’re wanted,
You’re precious,
You’re the love of His heart,
And the old rugged cross was for you.


Copyrighted Lyrics

Again!

Thanks, Zeigen :) If this blog is here today,and open, you are the reason.


I parted with another fond memory of mine today, my sparkling White Lab Coat, which had managed to escape the Gram's stain and Fuchsia, a hundred, nay, a million times!

S-E-S

“Slow eater” is what I have always been referred to as, at home and among friends too. Mum even compares my pace to that of Gideon's. We have an age gap of 15 years, and he giggles away to glory whenever it’s time to eat. Prejudice, Duh!!!

The reason for this post is Nivi. I had to share my packet of Lays with her yesterday because she couldn’t bear to see me munching that small quantity for half-an-hour. My justification is/was and will always be that I relish the tiniest morsel I eat. The weirdest look of the day was when I was having Coffee. It was HOT. She knew it and inspite of that, expected me to guzzle it down in one shot! How atrocious can Friends get! Comments like “You can dream later”, “Make it fast” are quite expected every time we lunch out. And not to forget, snatching my food and finishing it off! Help, they say :P!

However, Nivi took me by surprise yesterday. As usual I was struggling to empty my platter, knew I was in for some real big time fun and gave her a paavam look when she started, “Apram enacha, Tiger vandhuchan. Tiger vandhu enna senjithu theriyuma?” Shell-shocked! What was going on? For a moment, I sat there still, not knowing what to say, how to react, what to do. All I knew was that I had my eyes welled. Table no.5 came flashing in front of me, and the memories thereof. I knew I couldn’t eat anymore, couldn’t tell her what was going on. And we left without saying a word.

Summer chills

Vacations are meant to be vacations, a time when you can sleep till twelve, watch T.V., eat and sleep, sleep and sleep, cos’ sleep is what you’re deprived of, the normal days.

The usual wakeup call at nine, and ‘as usual’ I religiously took to the ritual of switching the phone off, Reason being Summer Vacation. But with a difference-I was an intern at the Madras Medical Mission.
Given that I am a stickler for cleanliness, I gave my room a miss the previous night as it was still in a mess that had resulted from my B’day Party. That hot sunny, scorching morning, after having waded through a sea of scribbled note-pads, post-its, loose sheets of Paper (I was preparing!!!) and some more paper, some clipped with those pretty pink (now who in the world came up with the idea of calling pink, pretty????!!!!! Since my cousin refers to those, that way, the name remains. May I add, she gifted me a huge packet of paper clips, the last time she had come down :D :P) paper clips, folders, chocolate wrappers, half a bar of Snickers, gravy stained floor, arrived at the target destination, My wardrobe!

The intensity of the itch is always inversely proportional to its distance, nay? It was half past Twelve. My shift was supposed to start at 1.00, and oh yes, It did :) With my amazing sense of mix and match (mismatch), in ten minutes I was there at MMM to be welcomed by the Chief doctor, obviously frustrated by something, thankfully not my ugly Hairstyle, a kinda upside down pony tail, flaunting the new butterfly clip!

1.00-Rush to the lift...All busy?? Take the stairs...Histopathology dept. Wait!!! I test positive for MRSA which means I cannot enter the lab! (Inner me: You have to do it. Remember reports, HOD, credits?)
OH OK!!

Ah!! Now what? I didn’t have an ID card! Head to the 7th floor, get a temporary one, on the way down, a beautiful spectacle a three something year old kid with his parents, toys on the floor...another baby in the cradle, feeding bottle in the mouth, and a blank staring mother. And just before I could say WOW at the cartoon-characters-stuck room, I noticed the writing on the door- CARDIOLOGY.
Shaken, back to the basement, first specimen for the day-a placenta fresh outta the womb, cancerous. My! Couldn’t we section anything else?



When everything else lets you down, caffeine gives you that high. 5 cups of extra strong coffee, still perturbed, exhausted. The only thing on my mind was, “Flop on the bed”..

Home at 7.00. Cleaned room!


Images of my day at the hospital and the place I call ‘home’ flashed in front of my eyes.
Chills down the spine in the heat of April!

Says it all!

The pictures are copyrighted and belong to their respective owners.

Weird-o-meter

DISCLAIMER: Except for a completely phlegm clogged nasal tract and pharynx, I am keeping well. May I hasten to add, I’ve had a sleepless night, have been for some time now, and this post is kind of ‘autogenerated’ . Also I’ve sleep walked all the way upto my PC. Whatever pun you might infer from anything I ramble here is not intended at all, or maybe it is :P (Do I sound like a politician? I welcome your suggestions, for I love to have another choice of career!)


Have you ever tried a throat lozenge for a blocked nose? I did that last night, unaware of what I was doing and no points for guessing it right, it only made things worse! Walking around the house like a Zombie did not have a hero’s welcome either, least at home.

Inspite of all this, gulped like 12 fudges in just one, no 12 shots. Used up three paper tissue packs, four cloth hand-kerchiefs and ate Vit C tablets like candies. Slept for less than two hours, dreamt sub-consciously, contemplated for the rest of the night and the day about that dream. Did I say ‘that’ ? Oh, yes, It’s a recurrent dream, like the one we read in ‘ The Alchemist’ (I read the book last night).

Have you ever dreamt of a place where all the people you know, on earth, have gathered for a Get Together? That’s my dream!!

I am weird, and I really am. To give you an example, barring a handful like-minded sweethearts, not one has understood my 'simplest of all' jokes, though I sincerely make an attempt to crack one. A wry sense of humour? I’d rather call the style ‘Sarcastic’. I can never ever over-react to Practically anything. Does that mean I am phlegmatic?


I behave dumb, and dumber with my 3 year old cousin, Rochelle. She only gives a ‘You -are- Weird’ look. (Isn’t that what I am discussing about?) Do you see the link?! I usually insist on phone etiquette, but yelled at a poor man who was desperately trying to reach his wife, yesterday. Called him back and apologized. Now, can I get any weirder than that?


I Complain about how my Nail Paint always gets smudged. So what if I go to bed soon after painting my nails? It’s my wish and the duty of the nail whatever is to adapt!! Read Voet and Voet’s Biochemistry and ‘Someone’s’ Cell biology after knowing fully well that I am not into Biotechnology anymore. Back to back, never have I done it for my exams. Had a meaningless conversation with a friend over the phone, listened to Nenjulkkul peidhidum and Anal mele Panithuli for a hundred times, Whined, dined and finally gave myself the first rank on the Weird-o-meter. It’s nice to stand first. YAY, ME :-)

I am heading straight to hell and in a weeks time, this way, there’d be a headlong collision!!

Things to do

2009 has begun and this is my first ‘first’ post here. Following are the things to do, I have been planning on, and perpetually :P

· Walk barefoot inside the house.

· Spend less on footwear, bags, and wallets, and always remember, the cost of the wallet should be inversely proportional to the amount ‘inside’ it. The rest is apparent!

· To be a stickler for cleanliness is fine, but being a freak and getting into ‘displays’ of verbal prowess with people around is a strict no-no!

· Remember that I have a hypersensitive skin and keep away from dust and dusty places.

· Forget third piercing! The ear lobe is only a cartilage, as mom says. (Grapes that you cannot reach are sour!)

· Keep promises made for the year. (Like always)

· Play the Guitar and Sing.

· Make more friends and do not let go of the old ones.

· Visit Thatha more often, atleast speak over the phone no matter how busy.

· Read more books.

· Put on weight.

· Consume less coffee and Non-Veg!

· It is OK to cry and to live for myself.

· Let bygones be bygones.

· Go back to being the person I used to be two years ago.

· Be the ‘samathu pillai’ as ever.

· Do not keep the faith, pass it around.

· TRUST, LOVE, and finally, LIVE!

What a way to begin the year!

New Year greetings from mine to yours :-)

While most in the world spent the New Year’s Eve partying, this soul, the sole owner of the blog, was glued to the textbook. Thanks to the infallible “University Education Examination System”! Duh! Two papers, one on the 2nd, mind you, 2nd of January and one on the 4th, I was freaking out.

And I did study. Period.

But what’s the point when the question paper that was set, had to be “vague”, “silly”, “Pointless”? Needs no further explanation, or does it, considering the fact that a rather “smart” girl refers to it as so?

Law was OK, Statistics was horrendous! It is that feeling when you get the question paper in your hands, check if it’s actually your “own” and cross check with the adjacent person, and the person behind, and finally splutter, “Isn’t stats supposed to deal with numbers?” “What would become of the Correlation and those hundred ANOVA’s practiced overnight? Oh my!

“Arukkka theriyadhavanukku aruvathirendu aruvamanaiyam!” I could hear S saying that aloud, looking at all her stationery. (And Now I know How Rowan Atkinson would have felt :P)

Ridiculous it may sound that my knack for framing loooong sentences didn’t help me either, because all that I had to say, was done in one rather big paragraph and the way my words are structured, have always given a tough time to my Prof.

“Please use simple words, ma”, the words of my teachers echoed loud and again. Oh how I wish I had given heed.

I began the story writing at 10.00 and completed at 1.00, gave my paper, only to look back and see that almost everyone had left, including my best friend.
Me: “C, where are you?”
C: “Having lunch with my Boy Friend”
What an answer!
Me: “When did you leave?”
C: “Oh! I left at 12.00. Sorry da. Couldn’t wait.”
I know! Some things have to take the toll :(

My point is, it’s over. I’m free, free to do anything I want to, atleast for some time, that is. And the exams have eluted the little strength I had been saving. I need a break, a vacation, perhaps :P Atleast an “in situ” vacation...Is anyone listening?



Tail-note: There are times when I think I am dumb, but my Hero Calvin’s words come to my rescue. “I'm not dumb. I just have a command of thoroughly useless information.”