KAFKA cafe

World Cup : Sledging is a birthright?

2015-03-26T00:38:00.000+05:30

INDIA Vs. AUSTRALIA.
in the build up to the exciting contest on the cards, there have been reports of Australian players proclaiming that sledging is inevitable.
Faulkner and Johnson have gone gone on record saying they will resort to sledging.
Sailor fails to see how it adds to the competitiveness of the game especially if it is nothing but abuses (that is what the Kangaroos do- like it is their birthright).
For all that is being said about sledging that is going to happen in a few hours from now, let us also spare some thought for the match that happened on 24th, South Africa vs. NewZealand.
Think about it, two really good teams, amazing captains on either side, played a match in front of a crowd of 40000. The match did go down to the wire. The Proteas were unlucky with the rain. But all in all it was a fantastic contest.
Yet, there was no sledging at all. They played it as the gentlemen do. That's what makes it a better contest..
Aussies are masters , our Boys in Blue are getting there.
But Sailor would prefer a game than wagging tongues. A display of sporting prowess is better than sledging.
Will the national Hamstring of Australia be able to gather win with just his cricketing abilities ? or will he depend of the tongue wagging of his left arm seamer ?

Beauty beyond reach

2015-02-25T13:26:00.000+05:30

Her eyes , her face
All I can see
Beauty beyond reach
She knows me
Yet
She knows me not
I die each time with that thought
Beauty beyond reach
I would kill
Myself but
For blood thus shed
Never has love fed
Beauty beyond reach
Her eyes, her face
Twinkling, sparkling
Tiny brook’s sweet song whispering
Yet
I am blind and deaf
And dumb, for
I can’t tell her
I can’t see her
I can’t feel her
Love’s magic working
Beauty beyond reach

Don't think twice it's alright

2014-12-07T21:37:00.000+05:30

Fantasy, the final frontier of mankind. Fans of the space flick -serial will frown when they hear this line. But it, Fantasy, is and has been for the frontier, for Sailor.
Almost at the end of three decades of life, one would think he is giving up; resign to the nay saying and daily humdrum. It is also time for the year to end. Reminds the Sailor of a 'not-so-long' ago time when there used to year ending posts and thank you shout -outs.
Now, that Sailor has nothing to do, ~~apart from studying~~ , he might as well 'recall and reflect' the year that was. This will serve a twofold purpose- activity on the mostly inactive Kafka Cafe and and eyeopener to show after almost 7 years after the blog was begun , nothing has changed except the times.

January
Day 1 begins with a Bang- in the case of the Sailor , more often in the last 5 to 6 years ,it has been a duty day. Baptism by fire - at Arkham asylum nonetheless.
And pretty much the following weeks and months it was duties and more duties. A 'culture shock' work culture for many, but not so much for the Sailor. Strange faces, helpful but also busy. Minimal time for what flows out side of blood.

February
A second graduation day ; this one was for the post graduation degree. Everyone else has 2 coveted letters after their name, Sailor has three. Hah! Sailor waits for the boomerang to come back and crash in to him.
How ever, it was the realisation of a long standing dream and almost half a decade of toil and hurt.
No accolades; Sailor didn't feel a sense of accomplishment. But, thinking back, and looking at the general life around him, it was something great after all. Xavier was with him but Avatar didn't make it.

March
Lion-hair gets married. Another one bites the dust. Dust ? Not really , He struck solid gold and she discovered a diamond mine with platinum also. Cheers. He always wanted to be settled.
March also brought a birthday spent on the toilet pot. Delhi belly is a known diagnosis , but there remains unrecognised 'vellore belly' after eating from the cholera-broth cooked on Gandhi Road .
Missed the subways, Domino's, Pecos, and local bar drinking

April
April was a month of absolute toil. Transfer to a general ward, meant work schedules stretched beyond midnight. This with the exams looming. No heed paid , Sailor worked his heart out, in a manner that has no almost become his signature ~~slaving~~ style. But it felt good.

May
Exams. Entrance to the coveted course. Sailor knew he didn't stand a chance. It was worth the effort all the same. Or, was it beginner's luck? All the same being wait listed in an exam which was apparently difficult was a high point (though it didn't take Sailor where he wanted).

The imminent also happened. She said 'go away'. Sailor had no place to go.

June
Intermittent leaves for exams and recurrent changes in the work pattern. Slight increase in the stress load not manageable. However, first evidence of a storm brewing; Sailor smoked his first cigarette after being in abstinence for more than a year.

July
All hell breaks loose. Shortage of staff. Lack of experience. a second 'baptism by fire' for the Sailor. Work schedules stretched beyond 24 hours. Meal times were also 'catch-a-quick-nap' times and bath and other 'free times'. thirty-one days of oblivion and Sailor broke in to the old habit of cigarette smoking.

August
The after effects of July, and over all tuning down of the tempo. It was also a realisation. The light of Heaven favours the Future. It was , indeed an eye opener; a wake up call, to look around and take note of the 'milleu'.

September
The decision was made. To bid adieu to the one the place that Sailor wanted to be in. And to be in that place, he had bid adieu to it. Meta, isn't it ? Nope. Sailor was reminded of home and and all the good thoughts and the chance to be with the Brethren.

October
Nothing much happened, the excitement of going back home. The light of Heaven had nothing to say.

November
Sailor came back Home. A short trip to Delhi to meet the mithrandir and of course write an exam. and November just faded in to December

December
The days are being counted. Sailor is freaked out, is he? Yeah, big decisions; quit work; remain unemployed, study again for a bane called entrance and again watch Life , zipping past and being able to nothing but stand and wave. The bullet has been bitten.
Whether it was a good decision or bad, only 2015 will tell.
“There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.” Yeah, go all Hamlet on the ****.

Happy New Year

Dont know if I should be writing this

2014-04-26T23:33:00.002+05:30

I don't feel like writing it.

Hate this feeling.

It is a Limbo

I continue to work, not getting anywhere

She hasn't spoken to me in 2 weeks.

Is it the end? I don't mind if it is, but is it?

How far out low do we bend to kiss

Our own arses?

And then there I was crushing

Short hair, dreamy eyes

A bunch of lies

He came wearing shorts.

Think of all the places

I could be;

Jules Verne, showed the way

And while the Sun shined, did

We make hay.

Or was it really the time of shine

Or but cold bleak day

Blurred by the wine

Smell the roses

2013-12-01T22:45:00.000+05:30

It has been a week since Sailor got here. And all the while he wonders if did the right thing.
All the while Sailor cribbed about not leaving home, always being around even when others were leaving. He has got his chance, but now he wonders if it was actually the right thing. Irony of life.
Things happen quickly. In life, time spent cribbing is time lost.
It is like this:
Six months back, Sailor was studying for an exam. Known to take many victims ~~academic casualties.~~ A month later, he was working his last few days, counting them down. Then results and preparing for another exam. Every life activity ignored. From the time he woke up to the time he slept he would study and not think about anything else. Exam got over, the results came and a small trip also happened in between but Sailor didnt do anything fun. No movie, no people, chilling. And suddenly once the results came, before he could realise, he was heading out , away from home, to work. And he didnt even think it thrrough. He is here.
Stopped to smell the roses. Allergic to pollen.

GREY SKULL

2013-11-27T21:49:00.001+05:30

The light of Earendil has now stepped aside. It was Sailor's most beloved star. When it stepped aside, the heir was ready. The knight in silver grey armour and smart one apparently.
But Sailor calls it the Grey Skull.

Yeah, The light was an old Windows Phone but the Grey Skull is the new windows phone. It is a black hole of energy. The battery sucks everything in its path. One game like the shoot and fight and kill types, just a couple of levels are enough the deplete the battery. But it is the size zero of smart phones. ;light weight like him. Sailor loves the Grey skull.

And in all this, after so much ado ~~of course about nothing~~ Sailor has moved to a different city. A small town but a world renowned institution. 'Sailor's dream place' as Pappu calls it, it is any thing but a dream. Sailor is working for probably one of the busiest places there.

Enough with personal information.

Thought : Will the shop keepers who give eclairs, jelly and other toffees in kind instead of change for a rupee, accept the same toffees when Sailor is a rupee short ?

And I don't want the world to see me

2013-10-26T00:54:00.003+05:30

Yeah. Sailor has done it. He passed. All the nightmares and the night sweats aside, it is done. It is over.
The joy isn't what he imagined it to be.
Consider this
326 candidates took up the same theory exam that Sailor did. Only 106 have cleared.
Out of the 106, only 40 odd candidates cleared the practical examination.
It is something to be proud , something to overjoyed or something to ober ecstatically madly overly elated. Yeah.
But the Sailor isn't. Somehow the feeling of pleasure isn't there.
The Rajasthan trip with Lion Hair was good fun. But apart from that, there hasn't been a movie or trip that the Sailor has done.
And now, he has to pack his bags. literally.
New place. Not unknown. but new beginnings yes. Start prejudice free.
Forget that the rest of the World exists

I woke up; drenched in sweat...

2013-10-02T01:28:00.000+05:30

It is a cramped space. One can't stretch his legs or move his arms or alter his position even to the fraction of an in inch. Flies flit around. Swatting the flies is out of the question. Suffocation creeps up.

Sailor woke up. First thoughts .... Paroxysmal Nocturnal Dyspnea ? Only there is no dyspnea. Sailor was drenched in sweat. Is this how , one wakes up after eleven years of studying medicine ?

Some people may have remembered and reminisced 'this day that year' more than a decade ago, but most people would 've forgotten. After all it is an insignificant day and they need to get on with their lives.

Yeah, it is eleven years since Sailor took to studying medicine. In medicine, studying never ends, only the examinations end.

Last time around, Sailor wrote about finishing and the last day of the course and all. That day came and went like any another. Few days later, the results came. Sailor, Xavier and Bond had cleared. Expected everyone said.No time to celebrate. It was something great ~~probably,~~ was only half the battle won The significant half was the one that followed. It was held in 'God's own country', a known graveyard. ( What an irony!)

It didn't go well. It is very strange. Sailor didnt plan to write about any of this. The nightmares are really bad.

They'll never end.

2013-08-02T22:53:00.003+05:30

Last day tomorrow. Not EXCITED. Can sailor still be excited ?

2013-08-02T00:48:00.000+05:30

Less than 48 hours to go.
Xavier finished yesterday. Avatar finishes today. Sailor will be done on Saturday.
Sailor has a cold.Cant feel the excitement but there are so many plans. Drink/ dont Drink. Shop. Cry, Distribute sweets. Sailor imagines fireworks and walk in to the sunset.
Where next, what next ?
Sailor still has 48 hours left. Let the diphenhydramine effect kick in.Sweet dreams.

How did it come to this? Now that it has come to this

2013-07-14T22:20:00.000+05:30

20 days to go.
That is how many days Sailor has left to complete his three year residency in internal medicine.
He doesn't know if it out of joy that he is counting down or despair.
Joy, yes, who wouldn't be happy to complete 3 years of grueling residency. But despair, for the fact , the question 'what next' will loom large, again. It is not a very nice feeling to be confronted by that question.
Sailor has gotten used to be being 'the rebel' and also being a 'dependable'.
What would he do with out other 2 'musketeers'? The trio, well known all over the hospital for sticking together through the thick and thin of the residency, have to part ways. ~~or may be not yet~~
There are people wanting the Sailor to leave. Some don't, maybe for their own ulterior motives, but the Sailor can't decide.
In all this, the time ticks.
Soon it will be 19 days to go.

2013-03-15T21:51:00.001+05:30

We're still here. It is just that life has been a tad bit busy. The blog birthday was totally forgotten. But we'll be back....soon. (hopefully)

Play some tennis please

2012-06-20T22:35:00.001+05:30

Apparently Leander Paes has threatened to with draw.
Why don't we accept his proposal ? There is so much talk. It is as though sending a tennis team to participate in the Olympics assures India of a medal. If sports persons are busy issuing media comments and threats , when will they practice. Paes may be a good tennis player, or rather was, but it is high time he moves over and makes way for the youngsters ~~hear hear sachin tendulkar~~ .
Issues out of non-issues - the essential flaw in our country's collective thought process.
Who is going to be the next president ? when there are issues like petrol rates and delayed (probable failed) monsoon which are waiting to be addressed.
And which have pledged some 10 billion bucks to some wine drinking European nations which are in a state of economic crisis.
So what money one earns in our country legitimately is, first for the money laundering persons (~~#####$$%^&&)~~ we have for politicians. then it is for the corrupt government officials and their 'reserved' categories, and then it is for the white man.
Sailor will never be well off . One cant be blamed for being attracted to the ways of the corrupt.
SO, Mr. Paes, Please play some tennis and if you dont get picked, too bad. You already got your chances.

Dragon tattoo

2012-06-18T22:27:00.002+05:30

A girl with a dragon tattoo :)

Stating the obvious

2012-03-20T23:58:00.000+05:30

In the space of 1 month, India has found itself eliminated from a tournament final, twice. Both times, the team had wait in the pavilion, looking at two other teams fight it out and the result of that match decided what happened to India.
The second time around it was Bangladesh which eliminated India or should one say Sachin Tendulkar's Hundredth hundred did the team in.
Much has been said and done, praises have been heaped upon him and equal number of brickbats.
For someone who bunked work to watch the match, this comes as a disappointment. Tendulkar is just about to get to his hundredth hundred (~~it is also taking as long as it took for him to reach that stage)~~; the stage is set for celebrations. It happens. But what one never noticed was that if the deliveries that the little master took to get there were added up, India fell short by a good 20 runs ( they didn't even reach 300 on that kind of a track) . The result - India lost the match. Yet no one talks; why ? - Sachin's got his hundredth hundred. OK , celebrations. Next match even greater celebrations; Pakistan beaten in a high score chase.
Next match - bummer - Sri lanka lose to Bangladesh, and Bangladesh is in the final.
Why isn't any one asking? where did they go wrong ?
Losing to Bangladesh ? Thank you, yes, that's what did the team in.
You know what Sailor is driving at.
Brr, scared to say this but, SACHIN TENDULKAR'S MARVEL NUMBER - HUNDREDTH HUNDRED COST THE WORLD CHAMPS A SERIES WHERE THEY DIDN'T EVEN REACH THE FINAL.
So much for being a non selfish team player. A player who plays for his numbers is selfish and NOT a team player.
There you go, the obvious has now been stated.
RIP.
Sailor is now ready for the witch hunt.
Galileo give thee the strength.

Rahul Dravid

2012-03-11T00:20:00.000+05:30

Facebook is agog with Rahul Dravid retirement. People talking so much about the great cricketer. So much being spoken about his humility and his ability.

About 12 – 13 odd years ago may be a little while earlier, Sailor was a school boy. He had his heroes, he still has, but this is a different story.

Rahul Dravid had just made an appearance on the cricket scene. It was phase 1 of his career.

Sailor had named him his hero. People laughed at Sailor. People cracked jokes about how slow Dravid was.

There are at least 10 people today, who are singing praises about Rahul,that Sailor can DISTINCTLY recall, had made fun of Rahul Dravid, for his slow paced batting.

And then he was dropped.

And then he was picked up again. And then he was there to stay.

There was one game, India Vs. South Africa in SA. South Africa posted a 300 plus total. Alan Donald got Tendulkar dismissed cheaply. It was late night in this part of the world. My folks got up and went to sleep. Dravid held fort. His batting was a class apart. Nothing to say it was for test cricket etc.. He even dispatched an Alan Donald delivery for a six ! India lost . But they got to 292. thanks to one person with out any support. Sailor dosen't know if many people remember that night. Sailor wont. Ever.

Though, another 'great' player of our times, stole most of the thunder, for Sailor, It will always be Rahul Dravid, the greatest batsmen ever seen till date.

When Rahul Dravid made a come back, a popular sports magazine, which used to issue posters of players, brought out a poster of Rahul

Its caption read : A new attitude works wonders.

Sailor has that poster. It still adorns his cupboard door.

This post was about, how people are fickle minded.

Moral of this post : In your face – to all those people who poked fun at Dravid, and now have U turned to sing praises.

Hail thee, Rahul Dravid.

Kolkata

2012-01-19T01:05:00.003+05:30

This past week saw Sailor flying to Kolkata. Kolkata is a bustling overcrowded metropolis.
Its roads are absolutely congested despite having 5 different modes of mechanized public transport. Taxis are still the good old ambassadors. Trams are funny metal boxes moving in all directions. Actually trams go the wrong way on a one way. One ways change overnight in Bangalore, but in Kolkata they change thrice a day. Imagine being caught in the transition traffic with out any clue what is happening, when the only sole guide to travel is GPS on the phone and it shows a different direction. It is not the fault of the GPS. It actually highlighted a different route; sailor took the chaotic one-way only because it seemed shorter.
The people in Kolkata , at least the ones sailor ran into are not really from Kolkata. They all swear by Kolkata, but swear unmentionables in the same breath and demand an apology from the clueless bystander. The unknown bystander also swears back and goes back to his siesta.But they all form a queue; lines for the waiting. This is probably what commies did.
Hooghly is a useful river. Sailor has seen a few rivers ~~not to mention the sewer-rivers of Bangalore~~, but this turned out to be an exciting river to visit. The river had commercial ferries and launches complete with quays and schedules and people with luggage looking at watches and nodding heads when their ride was late. Sailor thought it would be more like a joy boat-ride with families of mummy-daddy and kids munching peanuts trying hard to paddle their way around. Pleasant surprise to find only a few of us taking pictures with cellphones and DSLRs while the rest of people sat with the' bored look' of public transport commuters.
Never take the buses in Kolkata. "If you get inside a bus, the only things you'll come out with are probably your underwear", the cook at the guest house had told us, before going off to his afternoon siesta.
We didn't listen to him. Sailor thought he had almost lost his underwear, but fortunately the bus stop came up. The bus stop was college street. Yeah, it is not a regular tourist destination, but Sailor decided to go there. It was supposed to be the place for books - where publications had offices and the street had small chai-shop sized shops selling all sorts of books. But it turned out it wasn't a place where one could go in leisure and browse through books and buy what they liked. Unless one has a checklist, it is difficult to find titles. The books are mostly of academic orientation - tenth standard, CBSE, ALL INDIA PMT, etc.
But it turned out to be fun in a different kind of way. Xavier and Jag grumbled, especially when Sailor took the Metro and dashed off to the President's Place (Yeah, President has moved to Kolkata).
The flight back was rocking with turbulence but we did get to see the bay of Bengal and the coastline.
The cabin attendants were cute.

Impasse

2011-12-21T23:17:00.001+05:30

Flogging a dead horse, that's what I am doing here. Wait a minute, where is the horse? and who is getting flogged?
I didn't plan to write the year ending post. The blog has gone dead, almost. Only on lying close to the ground does one hear faint whispers of breaths. The blood is all gone and the flesh was never there.
A bribe for the ferryman; the year draws to a close.
All around people rejoice and regale and drown in the festive spirits.
Besides there is nothing to write about. Nothing that shouldn't happen didn't happen. Nothing happened; but that is far better than something untoward happening.
Very less people to shout out for. It is the same people as last year, only the list is smaller.
Styx will never dry up.
A bribe for the ferry man

F-f

2011-12-09T19:35:00.001+05:30

One flutters and other fibrillates. This is said of the heart. It is a flutter but this time, its pathological. Beware, if it flutters too much , you might stroke out. That doe-eyed chick reciting algorithms at the same time strutting her stuff, your heart is a flutter. You think you are superman? you can do anything to show off? I have kryptonite; and you don't need to go to another planet.
So then you play the age card. Yeah, you are older, stronger, and corpulent
when we don't mind our path, land mines burst; and we lose a limb, and sometimes our minds.
But now I roam with EKGs. We need something simpler for the brain.
But of course, matters of the heart are complicated and those of the mind, well, psycho is the word.
And there are also good byes. For when the first one leaves, there are banquets and parties and orgies.
A little bit of all for the ones who leave in between. For being the last one to leave, sorry, one large measure of local liquor.
Better still for the one who waves, dig out your pocket, it is empty, save the same dirty hanky you wave each time to "happy journey"

Worm-i-celli

2011-11-16T21:57:00.001+05:30

There are these worms. Most doctors know them as specimens kept in glass jars filled with formalin or through elaborate anatomical diagrams in textbooks of parasitology. All they do is read about it for some lame examination where a question framed thus may be asked, "describe the life-cycle of the round worm and mention the various clinical manifestations of worm-infestations".
The first thing that flashes to anyone would be an off white cylindrical (not to mention slimy, ugly, emetogenic) organism. The rest of the answer would be a concoction brewed from fertile imaginations.
Occasionally, when professors of the grey-hair generation or the no-hair generation, talk one gets to hear amusing anecdotes revolving around the central theme called -the worm.
Sailor is now a qualified doctor working in a hospital which is just on the outskirts of the city. A lot of in-coming pathology is the rural population. Raw and fresh cases just hand-picked for text book learning.
This past week, a burly man walked in to the OPD with a grave face. He was youngish with a beer belly and red eyes and the 'sonorosity' in his voice suggested an ill-slept hang-over. The cause of this was his 5 year old son who had developed a bad cough and needed urgent cough syrup.
He walked in to Comedy-king's (amazing how all the fun happens in that cubicle - 29A) cubicle and sat down.
"what brings you to the hospital" asks Comedy King
"my son - he is not well" comes a reply from the Hang-over
"oH, You have to take him to the pediatrician, we treat only adults"
"no, no; I mean I came to the hospital for my son, but now I have a problem"
So the Hang-over, went on to narrate how his son had fallen ill and he to had bring him to hospital and what ever money he had drawn in the ATM was spent in the hospital and how he could pay only by card.
After a lot of back story, "actually the problem is, suddenly i felt like passing stools, I went to the toilet and while I was crapping, something this long came out (by 'this long' he was referring to his palm's length)"
He looked shocked and agitated.
Comedy-king, with his great differential ignorance thought it was piles and sent him across to surgery.
The hang-over thinking it was a serious problem which warranted immediate attention, rushed to the ER.
Uncle Scrooge in the ER went one step further. He told the Hang-over to go back to the toilet and pull out what ever had come out and show it to Comedy King.
The Hang-over obediently did so and went back to 29A.
He pulled out a plastic cover and showed it to Comedy-king.
"this what came out'. "
A bewildered comedy king open the cover. There were two long cylindrical off-white worms, one longer and larger than the other, inside the cover. Comedy-king, like most other doctors of of our times had not seen Ascaris lumbricoides outside a specimen bottle in a parasitology class. He was taken aback and rushed to Sailor's cubicle. 'A man has worms. He has brought them in a plastic cover"
So Sailor walked across to 29A where he took one look at the worms and "Round worms.Male and femal. Classic text book description- the female is larger than the male. Put Albendazole and send him"
Apparently, Comedy-king (thinking it was prolapsed piles )had previously told the Hang-over that it was a serious condition and may need surgery.
Clueless about the nature of the diagnosis and simplicity of the treatment involved, the Hang-over picked up his blackberry-like phone and dialed some number and barked out orders in mafia style, "come to the hospital urgently. Doctor thinks I have serious problem. Get some 10-20,000 rupees. They might operate on me."
Sailor and Comedy king laughed and laughed about that phone call and the look on his face for many hours.
To add to the poor fellow's anxiety, Comedy King added that there may lots more left inside and when they drop out dead after one or two days, they will look like vermicelli.

There is also this story which again involves the doctor at large- Comedy king and worms.
That was in the time of the rains. The ER was flooded with people bitten by snakes. A 25 year old boy who was used to handling snakes was bitten by a baby Russell's viper. It is still poisonous despite being a baby. He had some hemato-toxic manifestations which had been treated but his hand had swollen up for which he was being monitored in the High Dependency Unit. One morning, Comedy-king was accompanying a Professor -of -the -grey hair-genearation on rounds, when he encountered some relatives of the boy rushing out of the HDU with fear writ large on their faces.
On being asked, "sir, we knew God was unhappy with us, that boy was bitten by a wicked snake. First his blood, then his hand, and now he is vomiting worms."
And they ran out and were never heard of again.

2011-10-22T23:06:00.000+05:30

Thanks !

5 years: visual pre-programme dysfunction

2011-10-02T09:00:00.002+05:30

Every one has dreams. It is not possible to not have dreams. It is pathological not to have dreams but the dreams that one has in waking hours, in full fledged conscious levels are the one that drive goals and life.Some people choose to call it vision. Some others call it neuro-linguistic programming or something to that effect.
You have to tell your brain you want something, the brain will make adequate changes to guide the body in getting there.
More than a decade ago, Sailor's vision was to be an extrovert. The shy and silent little kid who passed time reading Jules Verne and Issac Newton transformed into a garrulous smart alec who can't stay quiet. It gets him in to trouble many times.
5 years ago , at the inception of Kafka cafe, it was purported as an outlet for stories and poetry and other crap that happened to Sailor. Down the by lanes of time, the purpose has been lost. Now it is just another blog, which Sailor nurses just because he started. The visions of Sailor becoming a great story teller have all but evaporated . Kafka cafe is a rant spot.
It has also something to do with the lack of vision and the monotonous life style which the Sailor now leads.
All the same , it is five years and still blogging at Kafka Cafe. It is still no time for an obituary. May be five years later, or may be never.
Drink up me hearties, yo ho!

Breaking the fast

2011-09-19T13:54:00.000+05:30

Every one is fasting these days. I am fasting too. But I am not protesting anything or trying to fight for some obscure cause.
Hi, I am Sailor's badly fried pancreas.
It just means I have a tummy problem and fasting is a way of dealing with it.
I am used to this. Months of skipped breakfasts, late lunches and junk food for dinner have left me "stronger"
Hi, I am Sailor's ulcerated stomach.
Yeah, whatever, I ve adapted to it, no I am addicted to it. Early morning hypoglycemia is a way to begin the day in euphoria. Only when your head starts to spin you remember you've skipped breakfast and you haven't had anything to eat the previous night either.
Hi, I am Sailor's deranged glucose metabolism.
These days, I don't live by the spirits and the smokes, as I used to, but yet every once in a while I have to fast.
A brandy once in while doesn't hurt. Some say it is medication. I don't know which one is correct. After 48 hours of grill, even plain hot water tastes great.
Hi, I am Sailor's groaning liver.

I have been off blogging for long. I didn't realize it. When you are indulged in something you like doing, other things become insignificant.
Hi, I am Sailor's failing memory.
I may have forgotten about many things, but not my blog. I get updates. Like a sore healing gastric ulcer, which decides to go in to spasms once in while to make its presence felt, I get updates - you have one comment waiting to be moderated. It is usually spam.
Hi, I am Sailor's social self.
If the updates weren't enough, there is Facebook. Every passing day, I detest it more and more. It is supposed to help you "keep in touch". That doesn't mean I want to know what some long forgotten 'i knew her through her whose dog she petted in that party i was dragged to' is doing for the weekend.
There will be no joy in meeting a lost in the million pages of Facebook friend at a local bar and saying I know you went to wash your arse in the Thames last month.

Now I need to puke.
I haven't broken my fast yet

2011-06-05T14:39:00.002+05:30

I have forgotten how to ask a question. How, when, what, where are all forgotten words from where I write this. There is a new syntax for interrogative sentence as Wren and Martin would say. It was invented right here in this great countryland. The rules are simple.
1. Form a sentence in English
2. Attach an 'ah' in the tone of questioning towards the end of the sentence.
3. Usage of classical interrogative words are permitted only when directed or predicated to a person.
For example,
consider the following sentence:
"are you coming to my place ?"
Applying the above mentioned rules, you are coming to place is a simple sentence.
Now to add the ah. "you are coming to my place ah?"
Then to predicate,
"What man, you are coming to my place ah?"
Thats what male nurse asked his on duty counterpart. What they do at home has nothing to do with the new syntax.
For some one who has been made to read wren and martin through and through, almost at gunpoint, the new syntax is a shock.
When you politely ask, "is it done?" there is no reponse. Increase the tone to rude,
"it's donnne ah?" suddenly there's flurry of activity, and some one manages to say , "sir, what you told to do?"
*facepalm*
"go graze grass" nooooo.
"you want to graze grass ah?"
Everything comes with an ah.
Understooddah ?

Rorschach's song

2011-06-04T23:58:00.001+05:30

The future's bearing down on us like an express train
Face the lights and see if you're still the same
Wear this dark , painted mask
It's a wicked world, take it to task

Scramble, run and rush to your goal
Forget yourself and sell your soul
Bright hued butterflies sitting pretty
Severed dog-heads, a bleeding pity

Wash away the dirt, wash away the blood
Wash it all away in the rain
The future is bearing down on us like an express train