Or something like it...

Being listed as a contributor on a blog seems to me an onerous responsibility. What do I have to contribute? What can I say that is of any consequence at all? To anyone? Yet, contribute I must for that is what a contributor does, doesn't he?

So, for now, I shall, with a little help from you of course, relegate the twin issues of context and consequence to fine print and focus instead on content- random infobytes sans subtlety or context- as one precocious, and very infamous, six year old would have put it.

Over the steady whirr of the overhead fan and the largely mindless conversation of the two colleagues who share my office with me, I can hear my cranial cogs mesh and unmesh- working furiously as my mind searches for something to write. Outside my window the sun shines beatifically on all the land- or at least that land immediately within my field of vision. The breeze rustles through the trees, the birds twitter, though I can't hear them over the cogs, and the grass, I presume, grows. A few meters away, where the road passes by the boundary wall of our largeish 4-acre campus, I can just about hear a truck trundle by. I know, from experience, that trucks trundle by pretty much all day long, irrespective of the time of day, or year. Thirty minutes drive away, in Ahmedabad, my girlfriend is probably thinking of me. Or probably not. Neither possibility is entirely discountable. A couple of thousand kilometers away, in Kashmir (PO and otherwise) dead people rot and the living fester. Or is it the other way around? Even further away nations continue to fight over petty differences, much like the petty people populating them. Ethnic cleansing, female foeticide, child abuse- a prime-time channel for every peoples. This one gets stoned. That one gets sloshed. Someone else takes one hit too many and cops it (all the better, I say). Souls arrive, souls depart. Flux being the only constant.

Life (or what passes for it), in short, goes on. And provides me with the opportunity to publish a few hundred words to a web page that will be read by few, spammed by many and understood by 'most no one. But then that is a matter for the context police to worry about.

Me- I don't worry.

psychobabble

sell the kids for food
weather changes mood
spring is in the air
reproductive glands.
a mulatto, a mosquito, an albino, my libido
yeah.

wat ho! to use an old ghati-ism , is happening in yonder brittanica, dear chikkabiddies? wat is A&E? saar saar, pliss explain saar, i am not understanding only, and i am feeling scared-wared..... wat is all this A&E&N&E&I&D? i am reading it all in my school, but i am not understanding it at all..... it is all greek to me only. but what to do saar, that is the biggest problem with the people of greece. whatever they speak is greek to me........(i am so funny no saar? my respectable grandmother is always telling me the same)
there is woman in A&E&N&E&I&D who is alone on island with several other nanga women; when sun is setting, they are going to top of hill and they are doing all hanky-panky with each other....... all naughty naughty things, and then she is calling herself "saaph-o"..... i am saying saar, she is not saaph at all!!! she is very very gandi...... only last week, i am having dream abyt her, when she is in a bathtub which is fill with jasmine flowers. she is saying that she is very gandi, verry verry gandi. she is asking me to help her clean up, and to become saaph again.... but i am saying to her, "u are saaph in name only, but ure mind is gandi all gandi". so she giggle and tell me not to be a bad boy, to help her wash.
and so i did.
this week, she is saying that she is still gandi, and i am helping her again.
i am liking this greek peoples.they are all on the islands, and they are washing.

time....

i once heard jeremy clarkson say..." a good song is one which u may hear with a thousand people around you, but u still feel it's being sung just for you. you feel you r the only one who understands the true meaning of the song." i have a song like that..its "time" by pink floyd.
what is so great about this song? well for one it has been immortalised by the patron saints of music- pink floyd! its also known for its dark yet meaningful lyrics and its ability to be absolutely down to earth, as well as deeply philosophical at the same time! one who undrstands this song feels that the song is describing their life at some point in time- past or present.
there is a particular part in the song.....

And you run and you run,
to catch up with sun,
but its sinking,
racing around to come up behind you again.
The sun is the same in a relative way but you're older,
shorter of breath, one day closer to death.

how apt is that!! it symbolises, in words as simple as they could ever be, the stereotypic, a times pointless nature of our lives and existence. the words- simple, the meaning- explicit!
another portion in the song goes-

every year is getting shorter,
never seem to find the time.
times that either turn to nought,
or half a day to swim about.
hanging on a quiet desperation,is the english way.
the time is gone, the song is over,
thought i had something more to say.

my life is exactly in this phase right now. time is whizzing by me at a speed i just cant seem to keep up with. in whatever time i feel i have with me i end up doing things that i dont enjoy a lot, but neither can make the best out of. why is this? sometimes you r told to do only the things that u enjoy doing, else make sure u are the best in what u dont enjoy..that makews it worthwhile. i am doing neither. i feel ill end up doing stuff that will never get me anywhere and one day when my time is up i feel ill be left wanting more. is this normal..or am i just plain , fucking depressed. i hope its the latter. coz i dont want this depressed motherfucker to be the normla me!!
i have always tried to make the most of whatever i have and enjoy it to the fullest. so sue me! ive done it before and will continue doing so.
its my life..ill liveit the way i want!
my god that is enough brainstorming for one night.gotta sleep!! must close eyes. mus not watch t.v!!...fight..sleep!!

dancing in the dark...

for some bizzare reason, a week of nights bring out the worst in me academically, but i get ample inspiration for shit stuff like this. anyway since we r here might as well fart a bit.
two more days left..in this sordid week of nights. its better than the awful, gut wrenching, blood curdling nights that were in orthopaedics. the ones in ENT tends not to bother one by their workload but by the sheer untimely nature of the patients that walk in, are told to walk in (by A&E in telford or shrewsbury or out of hours GP- worthless buggers) or are made to walk in (by ambulance staff that bring them in). one way or the other there they are reenacting ur deepest, darkest fears- " will i be able to sleep tonight?"
its always a pattern in each week of nights..however the same pattern does not apply to every week of nights. if its not "busy weekend, easy weekday" , its " easy weekend, busy weekday". every once in a while the residents of the shrewsbury and atcham council region let their hair down and spice up their life by throwing some surprises our way. "early morning-ers" who believe that the later in the night or earlier in the morning they com eto be seen the chaces of their being seen r more..stupid fucks....dont they know its even more difficult to get the doctor out of bed at that time.the there r the "unusual situations-ers", who have some problem at home ready to throw ur way whenevr u suggest any plan of managing their illness. if u say ur gonna admit them its their dog they get worried about and who will take care of it.if u plan to send them home with medications they say they live alone an cant cope on their own. u name a plan and they have an excuse ready.
dont forget the "whiners", usually come with their mothers or girlfriends, and who make the maximum mileage off the sympathy vote they r getting at that time. evrything seems to bother them or makes them come out n a rash. iof its not the venflon u putting in, its the killing of whales in the pacific ocean. and all of this at the exact mooment when u r about to make some definite progress in managing these patients.
then there r those freakish coincidences that make u go "Fascinating, captain!" (read like mr. spock). i had a colleague with me in my previous job with whom i got on pretty well. luckily for me he works in telford A&E and does his week of nights at the same time as mine. rest assured every night after i have gone to sleep i am sure to get a call, in the wee hours of the morning, from this bugger asking about some patient or the other. either way after discussin the patient we end up talking for a bit on the phone. its okay i guess. lifes a bitch anyway.
and those very few times when al the workload gets too much to cope with, and u feel like slitting ur wrist or personally disemboweling urself with a blunt bread knife, along comes a nurse and asks if u want a drink and if u want to oin them at the nurses station. albeit for just the next fifteen minutes , life sems to be shining through this dark lonely night.
life is abitch..dont try to fight it, just join the flow.

the Godfather was here

He made him an offer he couldn't refuse.........
he was a struggling physician, working long nights in the hope that he would keep the wolves howling at the door at bay with red rheumy eyes and a clutch of purloined pornography. his miserable life was lightened only by the presence opf his three friends, (who, we discover to our collective satisfaction later on in the story, were the three angels that were fighting for possession of his blemished soul(without, of course, his unblemished brain....): fiddler's green, the angel maximus, and cedric.)
these three friends(one of whom had a moustache, but that's anothers story ain't it?)shielded him from the slings and arrows of outrageous f, but the Godfather was too much for even them
He was not that tall, His height only just sufficinet to carry off his massive bulk, a cool240 pounds of sinew and muscle rippling below the netted fabric of his wife beater's vest......
He spoke, with a guttural roar,the words tesre and urgent, the pithy conversation freezing on His lips as he indicated his pleasure; and woe betide anyone who would invite otherwise!
in sha allah.
so He lorded over no. 10 jawahar nagar, an alpha male orangutan swinging in the branches over khadki and beyond.
the doctor was a poor waif, in from the cold,brought, shivering and trembling, before the great vanar king. who took one look at him and smiled. His yellow canines shone dully in the torch light, and his voice, when he spoke, was forged in the distant forges of asgard, along with thor's own mjolnir: the good apothecary had no recourse but to give in, with scarce a whimper of protest.....
he was mesmerised, staring transfixed into those deep amber eyes. and He spoke, and all the birds stopped chirping. to listen, in fear , whether they had been mentioned in the carnage that was to follow.
for carnage there was. always, with blood . in great and copious amounts. always.
in sha allah.
let there be peace.
evermore.

am i?..am i not?

today after a long time i finally got myself to start applying again. hesitancy has always been my problem. epecially when it comes to an ardous, derogatory task like applying for jobs.
its not the monotonous rigmarole of the actual application that bothers me, its feeling of self doubt which enters me when 200 job applications on a trot fail to get me a job interview. i know the situation is competitive but hey c'mon. i have a decent, well worked on c.v. i admit its not striking. its just above average. enough to keep me from being jobless..but not enough to get me a job that i want.
during the first two jobs i kept consoling myself by questioning various parts of my c.v. sometimes i felt the courses wernt enough, sometimes the audits wrent upto the mark. either way it was one thing or another i kep blaiming. when all along i merely needed to rethink my outlook towards this job appplication business. i needed to be more aggressive..rather than just keep trying to alter my c.v everytime and then hope for the best.
all this bred in me a deep feeling of self doubt. this just kept gnawing at me. and eventually affecting my performance at work.
however this time around i intend to make changes. i intend to go out and happen to things rather than wait for things to happen to me. i had a senior at my old worklplace who said to me- make sure u at least get into the stadium to be able to compete in the race. it had a deeper meaning this talk of his. use any means available to atleast be shorrtlisted for an interview...then then the race between qualifications begins.
hopefully this time whether i get a job or not i hope at least i shall be able to wipe out the feelings of self doubt from my conscience, after having it my complete best. no longer should i be plagued by the qustion of am i.....am i not good enough for this competitive world?