This month has been crazy. First, I do something I vowed I'll never do. And, if it had involved just me, I would probably've written about it. (taking into consideration my newly developed masochistic tendencies, it would've been truly ecstatic to watch me eat my words. ) While we are there, I take this opportunity to publicly announce that as of November 17th '06, I've crossed onto the dark side. Secondly, I'd like to apologize in general, to all the people I've wrongly judged/condemned on this issue. The people who have been a victim of such behaviour will know what I'm talking about. Damn.... these cryptics are so not my style. If only I wasn't bound by my word, it would've been such great fun to relive that experience.
Moving on to greener pastures, the topic of conversation for the past few weeks in college has been mood indigo and moodi indigo only. Starting at the start, initiating the discussions, planning the details, wading through the deliberations.. its finally paid off. Or so I'd like to think. As of yesterday, the tickets have been confirmed and if everything goes according to plan (which it never does) I should be celebrating my Christmas in Mumbai.
To boast of an achievement, I've managed to put my past experiences behind me... (read my very first post ) and try my hand at driving again.... all thanks to Snea. And, the best part being... I haven't caused any permanent damage to her bike or completely killed her as yet. Yipeeeee!!! I can't but feel proud of myself in situations like this. I think I' ll stop here before I jinx it. I'll write about it only when I cease to be a potential health hazard to all human and animal life forms.
On another dismal note, three friends of mine have all come to me with news. Apparently, all of them have been struck by Cupid. Worse, they sound disgustingly smug. Love notes, e-mails, phone calls, dates, gifts, engagements....???!! I think I'm gonna die listening to all of it. The guys that I thought were so beyond all this crap are now flag bearers of mushhood. Such losers! I hope all of them are in love with the same girl and then kill each other over her. And that's what I'd call poetic justice.
And now, I'm being co-erced into giving a lecture in a national seminar on topics like India's role in SAARC and ASEAN and India's relationship with the US and the EU and a debate on the same. (I know... what the hell!!! rt) I think I know more about the secret sexual desires of single men than International Relations and Indian Politics. To add to it all, there might be a possible involvement of mine in the organization of yet another fete.
If I can get out all this, maybe.. just maybe I' ll begin to believe that there is a God somewhere! Hey... everyone has a right to wishful thinking!
Wednesday, November 29
Saturday, October 14
The American Desi : Laid to Rest
Ok. Time for a check. Haven't had a decent night's sleep for about a week now. Food seems to taste like chalk. Exams from tomorrow and as usual I know nil. And, again... I don't give a damn.
"Today is simply not about me." Thats exactly how I started the post I wrote, three months ago about my uncle, titled The American desi and ended it saying
"Its imperative that his physiotherapy be carefully supervised by someone who will take care of him 24/7 until he gets back on his feet. Someone, to whom he means more than just a patient, someone he can recognize and relate to. Simply, someone who is FAMILY. Over thirty years of a gifted career, a fabulous lifestyle, unadulterated freedom in a mighty country and all it comes down to, at the end of the day, is that. "
Family. He has a pretty large family : four sisters, two brothers and nine nieces & nephews. For once in his life, he sent a plea asking for help. Not one of them answered in return. You see, the grown ups had important things to do; like look after their houses, their grown up kids, spouses and servants while the kids had academics to take care of. So, he died alone...waiting. And, he was buried there with a proper funeral attended by everybody from all over. Everybody except his family. His family was doing something more important. They were taking care of their lives.
As for me, I could never have thought, I was capable of hurting so much for someone so distant. But I do. I feel like sobbing my heart out every time I think of everything that he must have felt in his last days. Hell, ask me about loneliness and the need to belong. I keep imagining all his pain over and over, almost as a punishment for not being able to do anything for him. I wish, I could have talked to him just once and tell him something I've never let acknowledge to anyone, not even myself. I wish I could tell him that for as long as I remember... HE was my hero.
"Today is simply not about me." Thats exactly how I started the post I wrote, three months ago about my uncle, titled The American desi and ended it saying
"Its imperative that his physiotherapy be carefully supervised by someone who will take care of him 24/7 until he gets back on his feet. Someone, to whom he means more than just a patient, someone he can recognize and relate to. Simply, someone who is FAMILY. Over thirty years of a gifted career, a fabulous lifestyle, unadulterated freedom in a mighty country and all it comes down to, at the end of the day, is that. "
Family. He has a pretty large family : four sisters, two brothers and nine nieces & nephews. For once in his life, he sent a plea asking for help. Not one of them answered in return. You see, the grown ups had important things to do; like look after their houses, their grown up kids, spouses and servants while the kids had academics to take care of. So, he died alone...waiting. And, he was buried there with a proper funeral attended by everybody from all over. Everybody except his family. His family was doing something more important. They were taking care of their lives.
As for me, I could never have thought, I was capable of hurting so much for someone so distant. But I do. I feel like sobbing my heart out every time I think of everything that he must have felt in his last days. Hell, ask me about loneliness and the need to belong. I keep imagining all his pain over and over, almost as a punishment for not being able to do anything for him. I wish, I could have talked to him just once and tell him something I've never let acknowledge to anyone, not even myself. I wish I could tell him that for as long as I remember... HE was my hero.
Friday, June 9
The American Desi
A whole lot of things have happened since I ve last done this... some good, some not-so-good and some horrific.
Yet again, I had started to pen down my tales of woe; a relationship gone sour, an identity crisis rapidly progressing into depression and a vacation which turned into a series of unfortunate events. As much as I squander time brooding over these sob stories, somewhere deep down I know I can answer my own questions. The relationship had to end. The identity crisis, an issue that can be resolved only with time. The burnt vacation was because of the disappointment that comes with great expectations. So, all in all, nothing to get worked up about. As obvious as this may seem to anyone else, sometimes it takes an event to help understand it. For once, all the things that are wrongly happening in my life don't seem so heart breaking anymore.
Today is simply NOT about me. I have an uncle (my mum's bro) in the States, since a time when no one had even heard of the place. All my childhood, I remembered him as the uncle whom I got to meet every five years or so and who never failed to get us chocolates and other goodies. But that was the extent of our relationship. I knew zilch about him as a person and the ignorance was mutual, not that I was complaining back then. Much later, I came to know that he was a divorcee with no kids and a leading radiologist in a reputed hospital back in the
"US of A."
During his last visit, about 8-9 years ago, it was the same rhetoric played over again and as his plane took off, I put him out of my mind and didn't give him another thought- till now.
Recently, I came to know that he had been found strewn unconscious across the floor in his apartment. His neighbor rushed him to the hospital, whereupon he was immediately operated but with limited results. He had suffered serious injuries to the brain and was perilously close to becoming a 'vegetable'.
That was over two months ago. But, his condition hasn't progressed all that much. It’s imperative that his physiotherapy be carefully supervised by someone who will take care of him 24x7 until he gets back on his feet. Someone, to whom he means more than just a patient, someone he can recognize and relate to. Simply, someone who is FAMILY. Over thirty years of a gifted career, a fabulous lifestyle, unadulterated freedom in a mighty country and all it comes down to, at the end of the day, is that.
Yet again, I had started to pen down my tales of woe; a relationship gone sour, an identity crisis rapidly progressing into depression and a vacation which turned into a series of unfortunate events. As much as I squander time brooding over these sob stories, somewhere deep down I know I can answer my own questions. The relationship had to end. The identity crisis, an issue that can be resolved only with time. The burnt vacation was because of the disappointment that comes with great expectations. So, all in all, nothing to get worked up about. As obvious as this may seem to anyone else, sometimes it takes an event to help understand it. For once, all the things that are wrongly happening in my life don't seem so heart breaking anymore.
Today is simply NOT about me. I have an uncle (my mum's bro) in the States, since a time when no one had even heard of the place. All my childhood, I remembered him as the uncle whom I got to meet every five years or so and who never failed to get us chocolates and other goodies. But that was the extent of our relationship. I knew zilch about him as a person and the ignorance was mutual, not that I was complaining back then. Much later, I came to know that he was a divorcee with no kids and a leading radiologist in a reputed hospital back in the
"US of A."
During his last visit, about 8-9 years ago, it was the same rhetoric played over again and as his plane took off, I put him out of my mind and didn't give him another thought- till now.
Recently, I came to know that he had been found strewn unconscious across the floor in his apartment. His neighbor rushed him to the hospital, whereupon he was immediately operated but with limited results. He had suffered serious injuries to the brain and was perilously close to becoming a 'vegetable'.
That was over two months ago. But, his condition hasn't progressed all that much. It’s imperative that his physiotherapy be carefully supervised by someone who will take care of him 24x7 until he gets back on his feet. Someone, to whom he means more than just a patient, someone he can recognize and relate to. Simply, someone who is FAMILY. Over thirty years of a gifted career, a fabulous lifestyle, unadulterated freedom in a mighty country and all it comes down to, at the end of the day, is that.
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