Friday, May 29, 2009
she stared at the body on her autopsy table.and felt a deep sadness shift in her.the dead girl was young,hardly out of her teenage years.the cold,dull light of the tubelight in the morgue made her look younger and vulnerable.the case was of suicide.and she was the doctor assigned to perform the autopsy.
she hated such cases.in her life as a doctor,she had come across many fighters,survivors,people who valued life too much to kill themselves.though she tried not to be judgemental,she couldnot help but think of the total waste of suicide.what made people give up?
sighing she started her job.
after her long day,she picked up a cup of coffee from the vending machine and made way to the doctor's lounge and settled herself in a chair.she hated coffee,but she welcomed the scalding feel of the thick brew on her tongue.her mind couldnot shake off those beautiful eyes of the young girl.why?she felt depressed.
she stared at the gaping hole,which was once her wrist.
delicate,that is what people referred to her wrist as.
now that delicate wrist was an open wound from which a crimson tide of her lifeline flowed away,seeped away,slowly extinguishing her life force.
she was lying down,face up,staring at the ceiling,outside the bright skies seemed brighter to her,she felt no pain,only an awareness of the skin torn at her wrist,her radial artery severed by her with the help of her favourite knife from her collection.she was aware of a singe,of something slowly itching.she knew it was her skin,on both sides of the slash.
a ghost of a smile came and disappeared on her lips,if someone had told her a year back that she would contemplate suicide,she would have laughed at their faces,she loved her life too much to even think about brutally slaughtering it,but then here she was,not just contemplating but also having committed it.
she did not want to degenerate,become a burden on people she loved,slowly see the laughter from their eyes seep away and be replaced by an irreplaceable sadness.
she watched her blood stain the carpet,a stain which would never be removed completely,was her life too like this stain of her blood,staining and marking people's lives?
she felt herself going slack,her vision blurred,she could see vague shapes in the sky.her father,holding balloons for her,throwing her up in the skies,making her believe,she could fly.the balloons flew away into the skies,she started tumbling downwards,towards earth.
strong hands caught her,her mother. a vision of her mother washing her hands in the kitchen sink filled her eyes,water and hands.both were strong,adaptable and overwhelming when need be.
her brother,her silent supporter,the one who had taught her that people can speak without words,if they could read each other's eyes.
her love,who would shift the very foundation of this world for her.
was she fair on them?would they ever forgive her for this?would they ever forgive themselves?
would they always silently harbour a guilt in their souls for what she was doing?
she could feel her heart beating loudly,her vision narrowed,she was seeing a tunnel and light at its end.she knew it was not the tunnel of salvation at the end of which there was light.it was her cornea shrinking.her heart was beating faster to compensate for the heavy loss of blood,to stop the hemorrhage.being a doctor took away the romance of suicide,she thought wryly.
she felt pain for the first time,she managed to turn her head to watch the laceration on her wrist,blood was everywhere,her lifeline was filtering from the two open lips of her wound like the last rays of the sun just before the world was immersed in darkness.
she loved her life,she did not want the easy way out,of sleeping pills,she wanted to see it flow away,staining everything in its way.
the sun set,the amber river faded from her vision,blessed sleep overcame her.
she awoke with a start and found herself on the chair in the doctor's lounge with coffee spilt all over her wrist.
her pager beeped.
she looked down to find a message from her senior doctor,asking her to be present at the morgue.
shaken,she made her way down to the morgue for the second time on the same day.
as she entered it,her senior said,
"aah,there you are.i know you personally dont like such cases,but i want you to set aside your judgemental mindset and proceed.we dont know what makes people do this to themselves,but that is not our business,you are supposed to confirm the cause of suicide in this case,it is obviously body shutting down due to hypovolemic shock and....."
he droned on.....
she silently stared down at the body,and again felt a deep sadness shift in her.
but this time,the young face with dead eyes staring back at her didnot evoke any feelings of judgments.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
leave the cold outside....(viral attack!!!)
please don't let it rain.....(my nose sure is raining mucous)
don't stumble on my pride.....(bedridden and dependent..not good for any one's pride...)
yes,i am down..with a horrible cold...the mucous monster is in me......and as i struggle between consciousness and sleep,these lines by DREAM THEATER play in my head.....as i stare at the ceiling,i wonder about these tiny virions merrymaking in my respiratory tract and causing havoc in my peaceful life...and in my case,a running nose leads to many other things...toothache,swallowing problems,ear pain,headache,loss of appetite...sheesh...it is a blow to one's pride to be overtaken by cheeni meeni organisms.....if these were not enough,i have an additional pain this time....my feet...there are two ugly looking boils on each of my feet,thanks to my new footwear...even if i manage to get up from the bed,i will be hobbling around the whole house...my prospects sure are not looking any good.... :(
well,talking about footwear,makes me want to narrate an incident....one of the many incidents which make local train travel eventful..
well,there i was,not in the distant past,waiting for a train to deliver me to my station..now,there is a simple relation between crowds and train..the amount of people waiting for a train is directly proportional to the train's timing(or train's late arrival)..as my train rolled into the station,i joined the crowd,demonstrated my physical prowess and got into the compartment.
there is this physical anomaly in our local train's design,it is a pole right in the centre of the door...it sure gives you a few bumps and merry go round rides..if you are in the mood...well,i went flat bang against it,with my bag on one side,and me on the other....in the struggle to get my heavy bag and dealing with the jostling of people...there came a moment..when for a split second the world stood still,the air waited with bated breath,my eyes started widening in anticipation.......because.......
i could feel my chappal slipping away from my right foot!!!!!
the ill fated chappal fell on the tracks,my train started and i was left standing shocked,in the compartment with the crowd flying past me.....
an irresistible urge to howl in frustration overcame me...but,gathering my dignity,holding my head high,i hobbled on one chappal and stood awaiting my turn to sit .......i called up Sam and asked her to bring me a spare pair of footwear..i survived the train journey,and people's curious stares on seeing a one chappalwaali apparition.....
as the train pulled into the station,i waited for everyone to get down.then slowly i made way to the door to check out the indicator,as i wanted to know how many minutes i had to sit in the train..well,sitting in the train was a better option that standing on the dirty platforms...as luck would have it,my actions of sneaking a look at the indicator was regarded with suspicion by the ticket checker and i heard a stern voice from behind me,
knowing that there was no way i could stand in the train,i managed to set foot on the platform and showed the suspicious TC my ticket..that is when he noticed that i was one chappal clad....
he immediately sympathised with me and asked me whether i needed any help and even offered the names of a few places from where I could get spare footwear...nice guy..whoever told government servants were rude hadn't met him...
thanking him ..i made way to the resident clobber of the platform and waited for Sam to show up....
and eventually my knight in shining armour Sam,showed up with a spare slippers ....
the incident ended with me throwing the other chappal in a garbage bin......
i dedicate this blog to thank Sam..without whom i would have wandered the filth clad streets of
Mumbai without chappals.
and also to offer my heartfelt apologies to my chappals whom i separated at death...one in a garbage can..and the other on the tracks some few kilometers away..i am sorry..
for that..i guess,i deserve these two boils......i accept my punishment........
(author's note:this is what happens to me when i am in pain..pain brings on mind dumbness in my case.......
if you don't believe me,check this previous article out....
Saturday, May 23, 2009
the ring sparkled on her finger,
her eyes scanned the endless blue skies,
the stone's glare blinded her,
she wondered whether it was worth all the fuss about.
eyes that had true heart in them looked at her with love,
guilt churned in the innermost chambers of her soul,
for how was she to tell,
that though she loved him with all her essence,
the clear blue skies,and the endless country roads beckoned her,
that at an age where the blood is young and the heart reckless,
though intuition tells her that her heart is true,her world will not understand the call of her wild,her wanderlust.
that though melting in his arms came naturally to her,waking up to her dreams is also what she craved for.
that though the world was biased to her gender,she knew the impossible is possible with passion.
her eyes glistened as she realised that she needed him to be with her,accompany her on this journey,
without being the owner of her soul,but as the person she gifted it to,
not as the one threatened by her independence and individuality ,but as the one who revels in it.
not as the one who has doubts on her credibility,but as the one who has trust on her instincts.
coz without him,the roads would be lonely and the life long.
but,she did not have the heart to give up the life she coveted and replace it with a life compromised on the grounds of just being with him,
tied in the sacred grounds of alliance,by sacrificing her true self on its altar
and forever stare longingly at the vast skies of freedom.
strange are the ways of love,
which offers you one sort in place of the other.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
she looked at herself in the mirror and sighed.her hair was just drying after the head bath. as nature of her hair,the curls were drying and defying gravity and bouncing upwards,giving her longer than shoulder length hair,an effect of a neck length hair.she hated it completely.why was it that what other girls had so naturally,was denied to her?she loved long hair,all through her childhood,she had survived heartbreaks and jealousies of seeing her cousins have longer hair and cutting them off,while she craved for her hair to grow long,which never happened.they just grew,curled back and framed her face.
irritated with her hair,she pulled it mercilessly and yanked it into a pony tail.
she was running late,her internship at one of the leading city hospitals was to start today.how she hated the very thought,she hated hospitals,she did not know why she had chosen her field of study,which would invariably take her back to hospitals.she was paranoid about these places.to top it,she was assigned a hospital which was a Cancer Centre.
she nibbled on her breakfast,though she wanted to hog away to glory.she was scared to put on more weight.how she wished she had a slender frame,and not the broad shouldered one.broad shoulders looked good on guys,in women it made them athletic.
in the disgruntled mood that she was,she opened the door,murmured the verses,which she always did out of habit,invoked the blessings of the various Gods without thinking about what she was reciting.she banged the door and followed her day.
by the time she reached the hospital,surviving crowded buses and trains,she was ready to call it a day.dragging herself up the steps of the hospital gates,she waited for her friends.
the first impression of the hospital left her wanting to turn tail and run.the thing which struck her was the massiveness of the place with high ceilings which should have actually given a feel of spaciousness.but the ocean of people waiting there gave a feel of suffocation.with a sinking heart she acknowledged the fact that these were patients,victims of the dreaded disease.the sheer effect of numbers left her mind boggled.
by the time she finished that day,her mind was numbed with pain and realization of things beyond her control, number because she was not yet ready to face them.
as the days passed, the technical aspect of hospitalwork left her satisfied, but she dreaded interacting with the patients.
once while hurrying through crowded corridors,where people,wheelchairs,stretchers,doctors,ward boys shuffled to make way to their destination,she was stopped by a young woman,
"Doctor,please can you help me,"she asked.
"i am not a ..,"a heartrending look tried to be camouflaged by the young woman changed her mind,"never mind,what can i do to help you?"
"eer,can you tell me where the Haematopath Lab is?i need to meet my doctor,i got my test results,"
the files were pushed into her hands with a worried,tense look.
"uhh ok,you go through the sky walk to the other building,go to the 7th floor and you are there."
"Doctor,can you tell me what my tests say?"she asked expectantly.
she looked at the statement from the hospital laboratory which in clinical terms stated the absence of any signs of the disease.looking at the worry lines creasing the young woman's face,the immense urge to pacify another human being and professional ethics warred in her.but she knew,that for a patient,it was her doctor's duty to break any news.
"hmm,i am not qualified enough to state anything"she said in as professional a voice she could muster and hurried forward.
a few steps ahead she stopped and turned,
"excuse me,"she called out to the young lady.
in a corridor crammed with hope,death,degeneration and numbness,a human being tried to reach out to another.
"all the best,i think ..you should not worry much."saying so..she hurried away.
it was her time at nuclear and radiation medicine.reading about the technicalities of some body scanning machine,she was disturbed by the sounds of a baby crying.making way to the PET scanning room,she was shocked to see a small baby in the gantry of the machine.she spied her supervisor and asked about the case.they suspected neoplasia and wanted to test the baby's kidney functions,but she was hungry and refusing to sleep.
again the warring emotions jarred in her head.she did not know what to think about the case.with a sinking feeling in her heart,she made her way out of the room.
it seemed that she was jinxed.whenever she was summoned someplace,she always encountered kids.Kids waiting to have their blood tested,kids who dint know any other form of childhood apart from regular hospital visits,tests,kids who will not know what it is to run and jump and play in the sun.
she remembered a particular case in which some medicine had to be injected in the spine of a boy suffering from leukaemia.the assistants were comforting,distracting and holding him so that he would suffer least pain.but the boy was so tensed about an injection poking him that all his muscles were tensed .in that state it was not possible to deliver the medicine.
under strict instructions from their Doctor/supervisor,they were mute spectators to this grim scene.she didnot know how to control her tears as her arms itched to hold the quietly weeping boy.she thought that she had seen enough,but nothing prepared her for the sight of the parents.the living dead,was apt for them.
that was when she realised,for kids it was a bit better,because they don't know any other life,they will not miss what they don't know,but what about the parents witnessing such trauma,to their children.it was like living in hell.
making way back home that day,in a crowded local train,in one corner of the compartment,looking out as evening gathered and the skies darkened,she let herself go and weeped quietly and inconsolably,for everything beyond her control,for people for whom she could nothing ,for the uselessness and unfairness of life.
but as with everything in life,she moved on.
she realised that,kids were kids,be it in the hospital or elsewhere.sometimes,their spontaneous actions left her with a smile in her grim workday.
women with scarves around their head,as the radiation treatment they underwent led to hair loss made her realise her utter pettiness about her own hair complaints.
children who could not eat because their medication left them nauseated,made her value the food she could eat and enjoy.
listless,thin victims of the disease made her feel like a lowlife when she complained about her weight problems.
slowly,but steadily,she came to, not dread her interactions,she realised that people looked up to them to help them,that it was people like her,who were in the field,who should and could make a difference in these victim's life.so what if it would be something as huge as a miracle drug or as small as a comforting hug.
in the hospital corridors and building,were death waited and hung about,were decay and degeneration were reality,she started to see the thin but persistent ray of fightback by patients who had faith in Providence and looked up to their doctors who would go through hell and back for their patients.
she started seeing the essence of human spirit,of never say die...of faith and of survival.of living life completely and loving it enough to fight for it.
and everyday,as she left home and prayed to the Gods,she started paying more attention to what she recited and asked for strength with all her heart for everyone and herself.
(author's note:dedicated to all the Cancer patients,who made me realise about the utter pettiness that existed in me and knowingly or unknowingly played an important role in making me a better person,of making me value my life and its moments.a salute to your spirit and strength.)
Saturday, May 9, 2009
i was standing in a ticket line at my station...now,let me tell you,this station has been renovated recently..so you will find fans that work,clean spaces and crack-less glass panes behind which sit the railway employees in their spot less, clean, white shirts...punching out tickets for us,line to hell ,poor souls....
as usually people feel in the beginning of a day,i too felt all fresh and ready to face the day....and the best thing was i was on time,to be honest a little before time...
however when i reached the station,i had to take a few deep breaths to pacify myself..and pull my eyes which had gone to 4 times its size due to shock on seeing the line..back to size...
well,accepting my dues and cursing anything and everything i could think of,i settled into the line awaiting my chance to be redeemed...and my soul to be rescued...
my mind when into flashback mode,now,i have being using Mumbai's local trains for almost 5 years now,howmuch ever i crib about them,i am utterly in love with them and cannot think of a better mode of transport(another article will be dedicated to my adventures while travelling in the train).
since i had nothing to do,apart from waiting(my headphones expired a few months back..sigh..sob),i ended up reading all laws,rules,regulations of railways printed around...after reading and analysing them,[i cannot help it,i am a scientist(or so..that is what my qualification says),i observe,i analyse,i try to either solve a problem ,or most of the time compound it...that is a scientist's birth right...]
well,back to analysis,i feel the most stupid rule the railway authorities could think of is passing out coupons,tickets and pass at the same counter,no..actually that is ok,what compounds it is the fact,for coupons and first class passes,people need not stand in line...
now imagine a person standing it this hell hole for a long time only to find people butting into the line in between,and his line,thus not moving anywhere...to top it,this humid ,hot climate is enough for frayed tempers to run into murderous rages and people getting into fist fights...especially since,the local Trains are used by many office going people...imagine,being late to office because you spent an hour in the ticket queue!!i mean,there are better ways to be late to office...
i wonder,when will someone realise to make separate counters for everything...especially when we have a separate counter for extension,which is hardly used...
funny,no counter for regularly used services,but railways can afford an employee for some almost deserted counter...
(now,for non-Mumbaites,let me tell you,the local trains in Mumbai is an adventure in itself...some other day,i will elaborate on this..now,just a rundown,on terms..
the whole fiasco,left me with a thought..how come we are so dysfunctional ,but still manage to function....
i had no time to analyse the thought..as i had to run a marathon over the over bridge...reach my required platform and also run along with my train before i could catch it..
well,that is life ..on a fast lane..or maybe..on a fast train....
Thursday, May 7, 2009
there is something beautiful about puppies....the way they slobber,lick and give their entire attention and love to you unconditionally and playfully...and also give you a saliva bath which makes you feel like the freshest heart in the whole world....
there is something beautiful about food,especially when you finish your fast......makes you believe in God's existence..if something as tasty and sense stimulating as food exists...there sure must be God somewhere....
there is something beautiful about curling up with a M&B or a Silhouette with a warm cup of tea......and feel your heart go all mushy and misty.....when the lead pair ride off into the sunset.....
makes you believe that if someone had such a beautiful story in their mind..enough to write a book....it can sure as hell exist in real life....coz whats in the mind can sure be translated into real life(i know,it clashes with some of my cynicism in the previous article)
there is something beautiful about happening upon a situation which is hilarious,but you cannot openly say so....and catch the eye of another person sharing your thought and both of you smiling about it in secret....
there is something beautiful about sharing conversations with people you love to distraction and who love you back too for all your flaws and few of your virtues....and talk till the conversation drifts to a companionable silence..where all that is left to be done is nurse your drink and stare into the evening.....makes you believe in perfection of the cosmos....
there is something beautiful about goofing around grinning for no apparent reason but because you are at peace...and just feel plain happy.....
there is something beautiful about watching the rain and feel the smell of soil drift up to your senses...reminds you of the soil,germination,growth,rebirth,regeneration and survival.....a fresh start to life.....
there is something beautiful about making food that may not be up to the mark and have your brother and father eat it all up just to prove to you that "it isn't as bad,as you feel it is."
there is something beautiful about teasing someone you care for about something which is their weakness,but also knowing in your heart that you would beat the living daylights out of someone who even dares to hurt that person by doing the same.....
flaws or not,sticking to your people,loyalty counts.....you can later try to rectify the flaws and faults if need be,but in front of the world,standing up for people who count on you matters...
there is something beautiful about babies,their ohh so fresh smell,their all so broken smiles...and their ever so trusting souls,which grips your heart when they twine their tiny fingers around your hand....and trap you there...leaving you wonder struck about how in the world can something so tiny and miraculous make you feel like the strongest as well as the most vulnerable person in the whole world....at the same time...
there is something beautiful about goofing up miserably and turning around to find your friends standing right there...and grinning.."bloody,goofer,better luck next time!"
well,all said and done,there is something so utterly beautiful about life........
Friday, May 1, 2009
so as i enjoy the feel of this award..given to me by a new blog mate-DPhat..thank you.....i may as well follow the protocols i am expected to..please don't expect any speeches...when am overwhelmed with emotions the verbal section of my brain shuts down....
so here goes....i am expected to dish out 10 truths about myself..this is real difficult,especially when i have already written 10 truths before for another award.....
these 10 truths seem secondary to the 10 before..so if you people have the patience read the previous 10...before this...
1.as a kid,i had an amazingly horrific mop of curly hair and was utterly scrawny..my ambition then was to become a witch's broom(as mentioned in an article before),
who wants to be some one's house broom,?!!!,gee,no thank you..
now,all that remains is the curly mop,which is a bit longer,and can be used as an amputating machine for whoever dares to put their hand in it.
due to this peculiar feature of my mane,my mom calls me an Amazonian jungle import and claims that the FedEx guy dumped me in a garbage bin from where my mom picked me up. sometimes when her heart overflows with love for me she modifies it and says i am something the cat dragged in.
and to think,i wonder where i get my rampant imagination from!
2.i finished reading the complete series of Sherlock Holmes in 4th standard.i also managed to fall in love with him and decided to marry him.
i harried my mother incessantly till she bought me my own series.
years later,with age and maturity,i have accepted the fact such intelligent men rarely(i am sorely tempted to say "do not")exist.
and even if they do,they lack all other qualities which make people human.
3.as stated before i am a progressive metal fan and cannot go a day without listening to rock.
though am synonymous to U2 in the music dictionary,i have to admit it isn't a U2 song which digs me out of the muck mire of depression,which i find myself in as accordance with the lunar cycle which governs my zodiac.
"coming back to life" brings me back....i truly believe it is the best Floyd song ever.
a recommendation for Pink Floyd fans. please listen to the "pulse 1"version of the song..if people cannot find it,please contact me..i will mail it across.
4..i have lived on a diet of horror and fantasy stories,be it in my native land or my own habit of reading.due to which i came up with a theory which i have named
"theory of spectral possibilities".
the basic hypothesis of this theory is that when you walk down the road there is a possibility that the guy walking next to you or across the road is a dead man. thus,we see dead people without realising it.
many great, dead scientists are turning in their graves and those who managed to escape are fainting on the roads as i say this.
5. my mom had decided my name before her marriage.my dad had no say in it.she had even thought of a name for her second daughter.but my brother spoilt all the plans.
and for the people who know me only as ice princess, my name is Anjana.
in Hindu mythology it is the name of Lord Hanuman's mother.it also has an alternate meaning of being the stone which is used for dye preparations.
i prefer the first meaning and agree to it .especially when i think about where to hide my tail.
6.i had an ambition to be an astrophysicist all my childhood.that flew out of the window,when i saw my college level physics portion.i could not make head or tail of it.
i drowned my sorrow by eating packets of mint and the other day decided to take up biology.
i have no regrets about that decision. physics and i had an amicable divorce and even today when we meet we cordially greet each other.
7.i have a fascination for Red Indian customs and Hawaiian culture.
in a way i am religious and spiritual.
the day i started reading the Bhagwad Geetha my grandmother started feeling that i would take up Sanyaas and that her family line would end without an heir.
8.i am a grammar freak.during school time,my favourite book was Wren and Martin.
people who want to get me to stop troubling them need to give me some grammar stuff to solve. i will pass my time away peacefully.
9.i had been offered a post in veterinary sciences,but the inspiring and destructive species of humans beckoned me. all the animals in the world heaved a sigh of relief when i made my decision.
i predict the following line in the future history textbooks.
"the destruction of the species homo sapiens is reaching its crescendo due to religious wars,nuclear warfare,global warming,pollution...............and Anjana's scientific endeavours."
10.i believe time and work,especially,work you love,just about heals everything.
phew,that was brain storming for me......
the other rules are:
Choose a minimum of seven (7) blogs that you find brilliant in content or design. Or improvise by including bloggers who have no idea who you are because you don’t have seven friends. Show the seven random victims’ names and links and leave a harassing comment informing them that they were prized with Honest Weblog. Well, there’s no prize, but they can keep the nifty icon.
out of which ,i am changing some rules...
i give it to only four people....
Sam..coz it is high time you write something..i just so wanna read your stuff.
Arshat...coz he has no inspiration it seems. and he deserves all the awards he gets.
Divya...coz i think she deserves it....
kido...coz i think she has a very smart and innovative way of blogging...
"Writing is a socially acceptable form of schizophrenia."