Et Cetera

If you can’t donate – don’t die

noreply@blogger.com (Aniruddha Agarwal) — Sat, 07 Jan 2012 15:52:00 +0000

(This post is written for my college magazine - was rather forced to write such senti stuff)

What you are about to read, are hard facts bluntly put across.

That you still want to read it shows your naïve enthusiasm for some possible creative bravura. Do you really want to know what the best part about this entire page is?

… The fact that you can read it!

This man attending the eye OPD at PGI can’t read it. Because none of us who are reading it can offhand count even 5 people who have pledged their eyes. Is this statement wrong? No – the fact stares blatantly at us.

This patient has a simple question that we cannot answer. Has the Eye Bank received any eyes from any noble donor yet? Sadly, no! He breathes heavily and gives a poignant expression. Is his watering due to the illumination of the slit lamp or they’re just tears? It’s tough to find out and even more heart wrenching to think about. Maybe he has no emotions. He folds hands, bows and reaches out for his stick and nonchalant 9 year old daughter’s hand.

This patient is one amongst many who throng the Eye Centre of not only PGI, but God-alone-knows how many such centres all over India. But he tells me that people like him are few and ‘over’ privileged people with ‘good’ eyes definitely outnumber them. We agree. India has nearly 1.2 billion useless people who can’t help this guy even when they are dead. Offended? Think of living his life for even 2 days.

You know the best part of donating eyes? You don’t lose anything!

Too lazy to go and fill those forms? Disgusting!

It’ll disfigure the sacred body of my kin? Ignorance to the hilt!

So what’s stopping us? Wish we knew.

Getting a bad taste in your mouth? Then go for it, it’ll make you feel better. If you haven’t pledged your eyes yet, pull up your socks. Even if one-fourth of you pledge eyes after reading this, the purpose of this magazine is served. Talk to your family, friends, society and patients. Encourage them, teach them and counsel them.

Dear reader, we hope you got the message. Let there be light in the room even when you leave. You can enlighten the lives of at least two – and as science progresses – possibly more than 2 patients’ lives with your promise. Somebody tells us that if all people dying donate eyes – within 11 days no one in India would be cornea-blind.

We dwell in thoughts that someday this will come true and more people can wake up to a new life.

Spice of Life

noreply@blogger.com (Aniruddha Agarwal) — Thu, 21 Jul 2011 15:54:00 +0000

Till last year, the only time I came across residents getting emergency calls was when I was an intern. I distinctly remember an old ‘mama’ haggling around searching for that ever-so-frustrated resident to hand over the call. We didn’t have this spice phone system in medical colleges back home and were way primitive – so much so that we had to manage with pen and paper.

Things changed when I got into residency and was given the spice phone barely fifteen days after I joined. Along with the phone came strict instructions: ‘pick up every call, dare not miss any, answer and ask what the person needs from you’ by more than dozens of dominating seniors.

That bloody phone has achieved the record of ringing more frequently than the number of times I’ve had dinner at ODH. I like the sound of the woman screaming ‘welcum to… phooth phloor’ in the lift of ‘puraani’ PGI better than its ringtone. Not to mention the voice of people on the other side of the line.

The best part about the phone is that the person who’s calling you doesn’t know who you are. “Ophthal SR? JR? Consultant? On call? Today? Yesterday? Last Thursday?!”

Sometimes they call us ‘eye on call’. Like there exist ‘nose on call’ or ‘bum on call’ or maybe even ‘Douglas pouch on call’. One gynaecology resident (hard feelings meant) once called me ‘fundus on call’. I told her I’m ‘cornea on call.’ She didn’t appreciate the good joke; “huh?! But there is a fundus to be examined!”

“Ok, dilate her at 5.00pm!”

“But sir, she’s fully dilated and about to deliver!”

I didn’t appreciate the joke either.

As a part of ward duty, one thing I understood was most people spend a lot of time trying to prove that I shouldn’t have called for ‘such a flimsy reason’, instead of seeing the patient. “Sir, one patient has TB and pulmonary consultation has advised pleural tap.”

I get a reply, “So?”

I mean, what did he mean?

“Sir, how do we go about it?”

“Take a needle and do it!” – comes straight from New England Journal of Medicine.

Now, this was it. “Sir, from now on, why don’t you send patients to eye centre for chest tube and bronchoscopy to eye centre as well?” He got the message straight.

Moral of the story, just having spice doesn’t help. One must know how to use it as well.

Once, this doc from ESOPD calls, “Docsaab, yeh patient ke liye kal bhi call kiya tha, par koi aaya nahi ab tak!”

“Mein kal on call tha hi nahi, how am I supposed to know?!”

“Nahi nahi, mujhe nahi pata! You come here and sort out!”

“But I’m not even on call today!”

“Nahi nahi… I don’t know. Tum logon ko patient aakar dekhna padega. He needs urgent ENT consultation!”

“But I’m from eye!”

“Nahi nahi… blah blah…” Spice mobile has free outgoing, and he ensured full-vasooli.

Spice mobile has certain special uses too – for instance aiding in matrimonial alliances. And one fine day I found out how; “Sir, I’m calling from (some random department). Just wanted to ask, do you know this (random guy) from your department? Does he have any… you know… I mean… an affair or a girlfriend?”

Now tell me, that too on an emergency day, do you care a damn about how someone else derives entertainment in life?

All in all, Spice is a life saver for all those new guys who have just joined with us. So if any hard feelings, just consider it free with this magazine like those ‘PP – free’ messages.

Tales of Chandigarh

noreply@blogger.com (Aniruddha Agarwal) — Thu, 16 Dec 2010 03:52:00 +0000

It’s been a long time since there has been any activity on this blog. Here’s something very brief – I hope you understand that a resident’s life sucks.

***

Life’s been good in Chandigarh. Ophthalmology is one weird subject – I don’t know why so many people from one batch chose to take something like this up. Nevertheless, work is going fine. I’ve been able to do at least three extra capsular cataract surgeries and two lid repairs – though only stepwise and to be frank, partly. But no complains – at least we get to do something and they teach us with great care. I haven’t ruined anyone’s eye yet. Amen.

Hopefully, I’ll get to learn more about posterior segment now that I am posted in retina. But again, I need to open my books which are lying in a cupboard with dust settling on their hardbound covers. Someday, I shall overcome them.

***

Mom is here in Chandigarh. I miss home a lot – and you’ll understand how it feels only if you are living my life. As an outsider, you might just laugh it off. But it isn’t that easy.

The worst part is that whenever I come from home or whenever someone from home is returning back to Mumbai, my room partner has his emergency duty and I need to fight all that loneliness alone within the confines of my room. It’s difficult – hopefully these days will pass away soon.

While she was here, mom has arranged my room and kitchen so that I can have a decent life outside eye centre. Now I have all the facilities to cook good (?) food at home.

***

By the way, there’s a lot to cheer for. My new car has arrived today – it’s a Skoda Fabia. It’s cost mom and dad a fortune but it’s worth all the money. I’m just waiting to be perfectly well versed with all its controls and take mom n dad on a long drive so that they can relax and enjoy at least one weekend with me.

The new audio system has been installed and right now I’m simultaneously burning songs on a drive for my car I’m going to spend at least this week personalizing stuff and I’m sure it should be good fun.

***

It’s a city full of crazy people. I’m talking about Chandigarh. I can go on and on; this topic is never-ending one. I feel like posting something on this topic every time I go to a general store here. I’ve already shared this with some poor batch mates (poor because they were compelled to her my non-specific ramblings) who had come to take the PGIMER entrance exam or pick up a seat after excelling in the same.

I guess I’ll leave this for some other post. Right now, my audio CD is complete and I need to verify it before packing it and going to sleep. Good night.

Status Update

noreply@blogger.com (Aniruddha Agarwal) — Thu, 27 May 2010 09:29:00 +0000

If you’ve been wondering as to whether this blog is still alive, I don’t blame you.
My life is finally back – and it has taken nearly 4 months for normalcy to return. But in the end, the entire shit seems composted.

It’s surprising where destiny takes you. You make new friends, while some people tend to drift away. Some people stand by you and how glad you are to have them by your side.

I hope things remain good. I hope some near ones who are still in the mess get their path soon. I’ve been through the trauma and I know how bad it is.

These last four months have been treacherous but have taught me a lot.

This post seems so raw and unfinished. It’s full of one-liners, with lots of emptiness about it. That’s how life is, I guess.

Status: Introspective. Relieved. Thankful. Wishful.

```

noreply@blogger.com (Aniruddha Agarwal) — Thu, 18 Feb 2010 18:27:00 +0000

To life,

I quit.

If Wishes were Horses...

noreply@blogger.com (Aniruddha Agarwal) — Sat, 12 Sep 2009 06:27:00 +0000

Wish you were here; there are so many things to share with you.

I can't deal with it anymore.

An Obeisance

noreply@blogger.com (Aniruddha Agarwal) — Sun, 23 Aug 2009 17:38:00 +0000

It's that time of the year again... :)

Happy Ganesh Chathurthi to one and all!

Gone are the days…

noreply@blogger.com (Aniruddha Agarwal) — Sun, 02 Aug 2009 17:55:00 +0000

(This poem was sent as an email to me by a school friend – Chandan. This is one of the best things you can be gifted on Friendship’s day – fond memories of the past. This piece has made me nostalgic; though it may seem very simple, each word in the stanzas below has a deep meaning associated with it.)

Gone are the days, my Friend…

When
School reopened in June
And we settled in our new desks and benches!

When
We wanted two Sundays and no Mondays, yet
Managed to line up daily for the morning prayers

We learnt writing with
Slates and pencils
Progressed to fountain pens, ball pens and then Micro tips!

When
We had lunch in classrooms, corridors
Playgrounds, under the trees and even in cycle sheds!

When
A single P.T. period in the week's timetable
was awaited more eagerly than the monsoons!

Gone are the days
Of Sports Day and annual Day
And the month long preparations for them

Gone are the days

When we used to talk with friends now we don’t have time to say ‘hi’
When we used to chat for hours now we chat in chat rooms
Gone are those days, but their memories will linger in my heart

(‘Cycle sheds’ was probably the word which brought with it many memories. There was this huge shed near the main entrance of our school which was meant for parking cycles and for parents to wait in case it was raining outside. We’ve had so much fun in that shade – be it scouting lessons or Independence Day practice. More on school-life in the next post… Too tired right now.)

Words

noreply@blogger.com (Aniruddha Agarwal) — Tue, 21 Jul 2009 07:07:00 +0000

After a few days, I’ll have completed 6 months of internship. Wow.

I think each department has its own catchword. I’ve heard them so often now, from so many people around, that I’ve begun to think it’s a part of normal vocabulary.

‘Arre yaar’, ‘kya re’, ‘sun na’ are few benign-looking terms. I have to now make conscious efforts to avoid using them.

When I was posted in surgery, everything and anything could be ‘mobilized’. “Aniruddha, aaj hamare unit ke AP ka birthday hai. Ek cake mobilize karna hai.” “Aniruddha, mere liye ek pen mobilize kar na.” “Exam ke liye patients mobilize karne hain.” “There is too much work. Ek aur intern ko mobilize karna padega.” “Kahin se toh tincture benzoin mobilize kar.” The list is endless. (I wonder what happens to the object that’s ‘mobilized’.)

Another pet peeve of mine is ‘stat’. I want an ABG stat. I want his electrolytes stat. Give him soda bicarb stat. Give me a pen stat. I want an IV line stat. Didn’t I tell you guys to do his workup stat?

Recently, I heard someone telling a nurse ‘double stat’. “Staff! Give that patient atropine double stat!” Phew. Some people are in real hurry.

Things were slightly better in medicine. ObGy is next. Another 6 months of nonsense.

Status: Very sad. My co-intern literally cried because of the ‘hyper’ me. I should’ve been better with her.

No Time to Spare

noreply@blogger.com (Aniruddha Agarwal) — Sat, 11 Jul 2009 18:12:00 +0000

There's so much going around. Cartooning. Strike. Tests. Studies. Internship. Travelling.

There won't be blog posts for sometime now. I need a break.

Money Matters...

noreply@blogger.com (Aniruddha Agarwal) — Tue, 07 Jul 2009 14:30:00 +0000

We are all going on a strike along with the resident doctors.

If they accept our demands, we'll be paid 8000 bucks. Which I don't think will happen.

Anyways. Happy holidays.

Announcement

noreply@blogger.com (Aniruddha Agarwal) — Sun, 05 Jul 2009 09:52:00 +0000

To avoid confusion and maintain continuity, all the comics of Incompetent Os have been exported to a new blog site. (http://incompetentos.blogspot.com/)

For regular updates, become a follower and keep reading Os's adventures!

(Meanwhile, all the other articles will posted on this blog. Ciao.)

Extern-Bashing Continues…

noreply@blogger.com (Aniruddha Agarwal) — Wed, 03 Jun 2009 15:52:00 +0000

If this guy asks me one more question, I promise that I’ll wring his neck or cut his carotid.

That’s what any sane person would do, if constantly bombarded by sick questions. Every conversation that I have had with him was because of his foolish doubts. One day, someone should paint a question mark of font size 72 on this buffoon’s forehead.

“What is the time now? What should I do now? What if he doesn’t sign? How does one go to the first floor? Which train do I catch? How do I reach there? What time will the OPD get over? Who will reach the IPL semi-finals? Do you think this registrar is hot? Don’t you think she has a bad voice? Have you ever seen mosquitoes fucking each other? Where do I get that video? If I don’t have a ticket, will they catch me in the train? If I have forgotten my wallet, how will I eat in the canteen? What do they serve now? Why don’t you reply…?”

You know what, one day someone really pissed off with you will suture your mouth and put a 6 inch Dynaplast, reinforcing it with Crepe Bandage. Or better still – gag you with an inflated Foley’s balloon.

Just When They Thought They Are Smarter

noreply@blogger.com (Aniruddha Agarwal) — Thu, 14 May 2009 18:31:00 +0000

Sometime back, I told you how some people deserve to get their asses incinerated.

Now this guy, an extern, thinks he’s very rich. Obviously, this does not mean that he can do whatever he wishes to. He comes to the OPD at 11.30 am, a good 2.5 hours late. After that, he has the cheek to ask me if there was too much work, with a sly idiotic smile. I care a damn, you bag of urine.

He joined with us on Monday. He didn’t report for the first two days, came on the third day for 10 – 15 minutes and today, as I said, this dog comes at his own ease thinking that he is some showstopper. I don’t care about the work, it’s hardly something. Besides, crooks like him don’t even deserve to serve patients. But the fact that bugs me is his attitude – totally not bothered. As if he is some gift to mankind. He is undiluted bullshit, crow-shit and shit of many other wild pigs mixed together.

She is no less. She thinks that she is a super-babe. In fact, she belongs to that category of pseudo-babes whom you wouldn’t want to meet. She looks like a plague-afflicted rat and her mouth doesn’t shut up. Just like him, she feels that just because she has paid some twenty-five thousand bucks to the BMC, she owns it. Sucker…

My batch-mates had to tolerate them for 3 days while I was posted in other sections of the department. They told me about how these two pieces of faeces had frustrated them too. Today, I got the opportunity of taking revenge. I don’t indulge in such things normally, never; I prefer to stay away and do my own work. I have a relatively high threshold. But I had to teach these Scylla and Charybdis a lesson. They need to understand that they are responsible if a patient has to suffer some inconvenience.

So, in the morning, when they presented their macerated faces in the OPD, they had to face nice music from the registrar (with whom I teamed up). The two maggots were marked absent – this must have surely set their bum on fire. From tomorrow, if they don’t improve, they surely deserve worse – like falling into a manhole full of methane and getting asphyxiated. Assholes falling into manholes – how cool is it.

This is what all people who don’t do their part of work deserve. Many people have a tendency to take too many things for granted, not realising how it can create unnecessary problems and inconvenience for others in need of help.

Hiccups

noreply@blogger.com (Aniruddha Agarwal) — Thu, 07 May 2009 18:20:00 +0000

One of the most non-specific conditions for a physician to treat is hiccups (singultus). They usually have a very obscure cause and at times can underlie serious diseases.

A young man (non-diabetic/non-hypertensive) diagnosed with malaria presented with tiring non-stop hiccups. He was investigated three days back and the peripheral blood smear demonstrated vivax parasites. He was on artesunate along with other supportive care. He came at 11pm in the casualty and complained that his hiccups were non-stop, present since afternoon (post-lunch) and had caused him considerable exhaustion. He had no other complaints.

Luckily, he responded to injectable metaclopromide within minutes.

Another patient presented with features of gastric acid reflux disease and exhausting hiccups. However, his chief complaint was acidity, from which he wanted immediate relief. An intramuscular injection of rantidine allayed his acidity, but hiccups continued. This man was otherwise normal. I thought of giving him dispersible domperidone tablets; his hiccups stopped 10 minutes after keeping the tablet under his tongue.

I read up few papers on hiccups, their cause and treatment. Most of the literature has treatment based on trial and error; others consist of success stories (such as mine) without much backing. There is hardly any paper which does not mention remedies put forth by folk medicine. In fact, this adds spice to the otherwise boring allopathic life.

Folk medicine has described various home-remedies to get rid of hiccups – from ‘gulp down two teaspoons of sugar’ to ‘have someone startle you with a loud boo!’ Indian folk medicine also prescribes various techniques such as drinking ice cold water or pressing one’s eyeballs gently. Pulling one’s tongue has been suggested as a good alternative. They probably have a scientific basis (like pressing one’s eyeballs stimulates vagal activity).

Good old Harrison does not have much information on treatment of hiccups. Adam’s & Victor’s Principles of Neurology (8th edition) mentions baclofen for persistent cases. Bradley Neurology in Clinical Practice does not mention anything specific. Goetz textbook of Clinical Neurology (3rd edition) has arguably the best line of management:

1. Chlorpromazine 25 – 50 mg IV or 50 mg per orally
2. Metaclopromide 10 mg IV or 10 mg per orally TID

Some published papers provide excellent views (historical and current medical) on hiccups. There are charts on various drugs that are effective (including atropine) and many authors have given protocols for treating intractable kind of hiccups. A case study is the most interesting of the lot – it’s about a man who was instantly relieved from persistent hiccups after a sexual intercourse!

A Night in Casualty

noreply@blogger.com (Aniruddha Agarwal) — Mon, 27 Apr 2009 17:17:00 +0000

Night-shifts were a part of our EMR (emergency medicine registrar) posting and we thoroughly enjoyed them. We liked the kind of work that was assigned to us and were also able to understand how patients should actually be managed in an emergency setup. Besides, it was one month of legal 'night-outs' - with very little or no work after 3 am. After 3, it was five hours of complete non-specific gossip and nonstop laughter. Missing those days [:(]

A night in the Casualty is never like that in the EMR. You feel like a hermit trapped in a forest from where you can’t escape. You are doing nothing, just issuing ‘case papers’ and not even remotely concerned with the patient management. This was how life was in the last week:

After a long OPD in the morning where at least five multi-drug resistant tuberculosis (MDR TB) patients coughed on my face, Casualty was next on the list. There are usually two interns at night in the Casualty, unless of course one decides to escape. Luckily, that didn’t happen. We were two of us; the Casualty Officer allowed us to divide and my co-intern went off to sleep at 12 midnight. He was told to relieve me at 4.00 am.

Soon after he left, the horrid exodus began. One after the other, patients arrived and demanded immediate attention. I was examining a kid who was down with fever. Since he was really young, I was dealing with him first as you can never take chances with paediatric patients in the casualty.

There was no looking back – entered a lady with a breathless kid in her arm. The kid was only 3 months old. Rush! A woman with severe giddiness was brought by four relatives. Each relative was holding a limb – they didn’t even care to arrange for a wheelchair. A young married girl entered with a deep cut on her wrist, exposing her tendons. Obviously, I realised that it was a suicide attempt; her scared husband was dangling behind. Hesitation marks around the cut were confirmatory. It was a police case and the Casualty Officer was busy noting down the details thereafter (I had to wake him up!).

A hefty middle-aged man arrived with a towel covering his ear. The towel was soaked in blood. He had a fight with a guy in his neighbourhood sometime back. The fellow with whom he fought took a knife and chopped off half his ear. A lady in her forties came with a deep gash on her palm. She claimed that she cut herself while peeling an onion. I couldn’t believe her story because I did not find any reason why a female should peel an onion at 2.00am. Anyways, there was no time to argue with her.

There was a loud noise outside. It was the siren of an ambulance. Correction – there were three ambulances carrying accident patients. Within seconds, there was a flurry of footsteps and wheels of a trolley were heard clearly. A man was brought with multiple fractures on his left leg and a head injury. As I got up to examine him, another trolley was brought in, with a woman in a really bad position. She was trolley no. 1’s wife. As soon as I saw her vomiting blood, I handed the police ‘pink slip’ and she was immediately escorted to ESR (emergency surgery registrar).

‘Pink slip’ is given by the Casualty doctor to any patient needing immediate attention. For patients who are really critical, where one can’t waste time issuing a ‘case paper’, pink slips are used.

Next second, another wheelchair was dragged in the casualty. It was the third accident patient, involved in the same mishap. He was bleeding profusely from his skull. A young boy, around 17 came with his friends. He had fallen from a staircase and an iron rod made a 3 – 4cm hole in his lower back. A girl hurt her eye while playing with her friends. Her friends threw a stone that hit her left eye causing a grievous injury.

At 4.15am, I couldn’t sleep. I was in the hostel room with darkness all around…

[…looking forward to ESR where I’ll play a role in patient management. I hope I get the same (/kind of) co-interns like in EMR.]

The last Laugh

noreply@blogger.com (Aniruddha Agarwal) — Fri, 17 Apr 2009 17:40:00 +0000

Some people can really get on your nerves. They can be so uncooperative and selfish that you feel like digging a hole in the ground and pushing their heads into it. Worse still, you feel like giving them an injection of rabies virus intracranially.

I was good with them initially. They started taking undue advantage. Now begins the fun. Some people deserve a taste of their own medicine. It’s going to be a nice week ahead, with six of us hell-bent on making their life miserable. Heh heh… you uncivilised asses, you’ve had it.

Don’t trouble trouble, till trouble troubles you.

Few Good Things…

noreply@blogger.com (Aniruddha Agarwal) — Mon, 06 Apr 2009 17:47:00 +0000

This week in EMS was better than the last.
1. I managed to put an intravenous cannula in almost all patients in one prick. Even in a person who was convulsing.

2. I almost put a central line. Of course I needed help.

3. I managed to avoid needle stick injuries. That reminds me – I’m yet to take my booster for hepatitis B. Shit.

4. I’m lucky I have good co-interns. We divided the work and so that each one of us could sleep for at least an hour every night in the side room of EMS.

5. There was a huge raada in the casualty one night. The next day, there was a fight amongst the interns posted in paediatrics and EPR. Its fun to watch people fight.

6. I learnt (read: memorised) few sentences in Marathi. “Arre gap bas. Ek sui lavaychi aahe.”

7. We agreed to teach a police security guard how to collect blood. In return, he promised to save us in case an angry relative decides to wring our necks. However, the deal didn’t materialise.

8. We learnt how to use the police walkie-talkie. It’s a fun thing.

9. I’ve had at least a kilo of ice-cream this week. EMS is cool!

10. A friend of mine agreed to pole dance on my funeral, whenever it happens. According to her, that will attract at least some people to attend the ritual.

50 Questions

noreply@blogger.com (Aniruddha Agarwal) — Sun, 22 Mar 2009 08:21:00 +0000

(More meaningful posts after 6th April – this is just to keep the blog alive)
1. ONE OF YOUR SCARS, HOW DID YOU GET IT?
I don’t have any

2. WHAT IS ON THE WALLS IN YOUR ROOM?
Nothing. I like it clean

3. DO YOU KNOW WHAT TIME YOU WERE BORN?
Yes. 8.15 am. Breakfast time!

4. WHAT DO YOU WANT MORE THAN ANYTHING RIGHT NOW?
Direction

5. WHAT IS YOUR MOST PRIZED POSSESSION(S)?
Family

6. HOW TALL ARE YOU?
179 cm

7. DO YOU GET CLAUSTROPHOBIC?
Nope

8. THE LAST PERSON TO MAKE YOU CRY?
My dad

9. WHAT'S YOUR WORST FEAR?
Being there all alone

10. WHAT KIND OF HAIR/EYE COLOR DO YOU LIKE ON THE OPPOSITE SEX?
Black eyes.
Black hair.

11. COFFEE OR ENERGY DRINK?
Umm… Coffee

12. FAVORITE PIZZA TOPPING?
Can’t decide…

13. IF YOU COULD EAT ANYTHING RIGHT NOW, WHAT WOULD IT BE?
Strawberry with cream

14. FAVORITE COLOR OF ALL TIME?
Red

15. HAVE YOU EVER EATEN A GOLDFISH?
Never. Yuck.

16. WHAT WAS THE FIRST MEANINGFUL GIFT YOU'VE EVER RECEIVED?
When I was a newborn. My sisters chose a very tiny and a-traumatic rakhi.

17. DO YOU HAVE A CRUSH?
Yes

18. FAVORITE CLOTHING BRAND?
Express

19. WOULD YOU FALL IN LOVE KNOWING THAT THE PERSON IS LEAVING?
Yes

20. SAY A NUMBER FROM ONE TO A HUNDRED:
4

21. WHAT’S YOUR WEAKNESS?
A smile

22. MET ANYONE FAMOUS?
My grandmom

23. FIRST JOB?
I’ve been forever jobless

24. EVER DONE A PRANK CALL?
Yes... long time back

25. DO YOU THINK EVERYONE OUT THERE HAS A SOULMATE?
Of course

26. HAVE YOU EVER HAD A SURGERY?
Yes, once. It was many years back.

27. WHAT IS THE BIGGEST TURN OFF OF THE OPPOSITE SEX?
Superficiality

28. WHAT IS ONE THING YOU LIKED ABOUT HIGH SCHOOL?
We had a kind of food fest called Anand Bazar. Annual day used to be great fun too. Pai sir’s lectures were amazing. Wow. I can go on and on.

29. ANY BAD HABITS?
I think too much

30. DO LOOKS MATTER?
Yup

31. HOW DO YOU RELEASE ANGER?
By going into a shell

32. WHAT'S YOUR MAIN GOAL IN LIFE?
To live for people close to my heart

33. WHAT WAS YOUR FAVORITE TOY AS A CHILD?
Cars. I loved to drag them around.

34. HOW MANY NUMBERS ARE IN YOUR CELL PHONE?
More than 300

35. WHAT DO YOU LOOK FOR IN A GUY/GIRL?
Gentleness, humility, looks and above all, enough grey matter

36. WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM FLAVOR?
I love all, without nuts

37. DO YOU HAVE A COMPUTER IN YOUR ROOM?
Yes

38. PLANS FOR TONIGHT?
I can’t enter so much data in my brain

39. THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE IN THE OPPOSITE SEX
Panache

40. FAVORITE THING TO HATE?
People who push others with their elbows

41. WHAT DO YOU LIKE TO DO IN YOUR SPARE TIME?
I waste it doing nothing

42. FAVORITE SEASON OF THE YEAR
Rains

43. WHAT ARE YOUR NICKNAMES?
Ani

44. FAVORITE SUPER POWER?
Umm… does Dexter count as one?

45. HAVE YOU EVER REALLY AND TRULY HAD A BEST FRIEND?
Yes, I do

46. WHAT IS YOUR HAIR COLOR?
Dark Brown

47. EYE COLOR?
Jet Black

48. WHO WERE YOUR GOOD FRIENDS IN HIGH SCHOOL?
Aaron, Adrian, Leo, Talwinder, Dino, Ankush, Glen, Tejas, Anjali, Mayur... the list isn’t complete.

49. KISSES OR HUGS?
Both :)

50. RELATIONSHIPS OR ONE NIGHT STANDS?
Relationships

25 Random Things about Me

noreply@blogger.com (Aniruddha Agarwal) — Wed, 18 Feb 2009 18:00:00 +0000

This blog post is inspired by Yash; I hope this facebook cycle continues so that we get to read more random stuff about people we know.

Coming straight to the point:
1. I’m too complicated. It’s something to do with my unusual neural circuitry.

2. I hate cockroaches and dirty insects. I hate people who can hold them with their antennae. They make me vomit. Ack. Puke.

3. I usually hang out with only a few selected people. I’m choosy and don’t talk to many people around me. Most people in a crowd stink. Skunks.

4. I can get emotionally attached to anyone close enough. I fear losing people.

5. I’m a tennis freak and can watch it for hours together. You’re going to have a bad time if you bother me while I’m glued to a match.

6. I just love ice creams. Especially the ones without nuts as toppings. I’ve had entire family packs at a time. More on ice creams and experiences with the female selling it at Chicago in some other post.

7. I’m a perfectionist.

8. Politics is not meant for me. I can never tackle bureaucracy. I like straightforward people who don’t pretend about stuff.

9. I keep saying ‘oh fish!’ and ‘hai na?’ every now and then.

10. If given an option, I would choose to be a sea sponge. That way, I would get to laze around all my life with my bum attached to the floor. I don’t know who made me a human.

11. I like to stay low-profile. I think life’s more comfortable that way. You needn’t get noticed for any damn reason. No wonder sea sponges are so cool.

12. I can never reach any place on time. Punctuality is a huge struggle. On an average, I’m at least an hour late everywhere. I’ve been threatened, warned and rebuked but to no avail.

13. I’m religious and spiritual. But I don’t go overboard. I don’t agree with atheists.

14. I like to paint. If only I could get some time. And money to buy canvas.

15. I think most people are buffoons. If you look closely enough, you’ll realise.

16. I’m a perfect Leo; the kind described in books – word-to-word. There’s not a slight variation from the typical description. Lions rule, you know.

17. If I hadn’t taken up medicine, I would be doing zoology, molecular chemistry or finance.

18. I love India. I hate Indians who hate India. Jai hind.

19. I want to do an internship under a professional photographer, especially someone who holds interest in bird photography and landscape photography. Sounds cool.

20. I’m a vegetarian. I live on plants and leaves. If Brontosaurus could manage on them, even I can.

21. Rains are cool. Especially when you are outdoors with just the right company, without a windcheater and the sky is glutted with clouds. Winds, storms and lightning are even better.

22. I don’t mind living the rest of my life on a desolate island surrounded by sea with only fruits and berries to fill that darn muscular bag. I mean stomach. But of course.

23. I love to think that I’m the biggest fan of René Goscinny and Albert Uderzo. For some reason, I think Fulliautomatix rocks.

24. I can waste hours together doing nothing. My palm says that I have a long life. Shit.

25. I think one day I’ll spend all the money I have. Too bad they don’t teach you good economics in school.

Now, I’m waiting to read about you guys.

Whatever It Means

noreply@blogger.com (Aniruddha Agarwal) — Tue, 10 Feb 2009 10:57:00 +0000

Travelling to college is annoying especially with the construction of Metro Rail adding to the existing traffic congestion. You just can’t help but sit in a rick and stare at the world outside.

This is exactly what I was doing today morning, wasting nearly an hour stranded at one spot. The rickshaw wouldn’t budge an inch. There was nothing much to stare at either; except a little girl who probably had wandered from a nearby beggars’ hutment.

She wasn’t accompanied by anyone else but was unperturbed nonetheless. Hopping about, she discovered a rope that was tied to a low hanging branch of a tree. The rope was tied at both ends to the branch in order to make it an ingenious swing. The ten centimetres thick rope was reinforced by knots in certain weaker areas. But that didn’t dampen her spirits. She promptly sat, made herself comfortable and began swinging on the rope. She wore an ordinary black dress; it wasn’t tattered, neither was it new. It looked castoff but that didn’t bother her.

Her hands held the rope firmly enough so that she didn’t slip and gently enough so that the jute fibres didn’t poke her palms. Her smile widened as her speed increased – in direct proportion – as a mathematician would put it. She was alone, with no one around, her eyes weren’t looking for anyone either. She was totally on her own but made most of those moments. At least that’s what I could make out. I wish I could photograph and capture that moment so as to prove this to you.

I wanted to ask her name. But then, I just assumed it to be Life.

Whereto?

noreply@blogger.com (Aniruddha Agarwal) — Sat, 07 Feb 2009 05:27:00 +0000

I know nothing, nothing at all. At times, I’m not even receptive to that same old question. Maybe it happens when you don’t know anything.

I’ve never been so confused. I’m lost. I don’t know what helps getting out of this. It’s suffocating; there is no time. I don’t mind if someone else lives this moment for me. At least I won’t blame myself at the end of it.

Maybe it happens when you don’t know anything.

The Bright Side of Life

noreply@blogger.com (Aniruddha Agarwal) — Thu, 25 Dec 2008 11:34:00 +0000

Right now, there is nothing much in life except studies and exams. There’s hardly any time to get distracted. Even then, day-before-yesterday was special, amidst the academic humdrum.

Everyone needs a close confidant. There are ups and downs, and in order to overcome a mental turbulence, help is always welcome. A sounding board is sometimes curative for such a tumult.

There are a few who confide in me; it gives me some fulfilment to see that they feel much better after sharing their thoughts. Generally, only very close friends tend to confide in you, obviously because they trust you. But it’s a pleasant surprise when someone not so close, with whom you haven’t interacted much, who may go far away in the near future never to return back, who probably doesn’t count you in his/her day-to-day friends, about whom you don’t know anything beyond a routine hello, who knows it well that you don’t know much about him/her, comes up to you one fine day. And tells you everything. And confides in you.

It gives you immense amount of confidence. And it gives you a lot of hope. It makes you believe that life can take you anywhere. You feel wanted; you feel that your presence consoles someone. And this establishes your purpose of life, at least for a day.

All I know is that my day was made.

India without ‘K’

noreply@blogger.com (Aniruddha Agarwal) — Mon, 22 Dec 2008 16:42:00 +0000

With so much happening on the political front, it’s tough to predict what will happen next. Before the nation is able to digest one controversy, a trigger-happy politician is ready with another arm-twister; the frenzy created thereby leaves most of us truly bewildered.

The last few months have undoubtedly witnessed a rather poor statesmanship from all politicians, in all possible areas of international relations. India looks like a battered baby, so to speak, and no one’s interested in any kind of vociferation. For some unknown reason, the folks at the helm are not able to articulate loudly and clearly enough.

Why don’t we give a fitting reply to the damning and illogical statements issued by other countries? Why do we listen to what everyone has to say without expressing disappointment? By ‘fitting reply’, I don’t (necessarily) mean any drastic step such as a military strike, but just a strong message, a statement, a warning or a suitable admonition.

Because of our failure, we had a rather disappointing news item sometime back in the dailies, the protests of so-called separatists of Kashmir have raised beyond the comfort levels. The issue of Kashmir is a long-standing one and it probably needs a separate ministry to handle it. Or soon, we’ll have to part with our crown and face an uncertain future due to the altered geopolitics. Yesterday, I read in the news that around 9 people were killed by protestors opposing the on-going polls. Everyday, we have 5-10 people dying in the valley (or probably much more, you never know). Till when is this going to continue? The most audacious act was when pro-Pak protestors waved their flag on prominent buildings located in downtown Srinagar, and no one could do anything! Appalling!

As if this was not enough, our foolish babus printed certain political maps of India last year. As expected, they goofed up – they printed India without Kashmir! I mean, what do they mean? There is a fundamental problem with us somewhere. Has a certain section of society accepted India without the K-word? The fact that this question arises is very unfortunate. Then we protest when someone has the guts to call us headless chicken.

Most of us have read the history of Kashmir. And we all know that the radaa could have been solved long ago, but the tale continues like a dangerous imbroglio. Although we cannot document the feelings of each and every Kashmiri, we all know (the world intelligence included) that Kashmir cannot survive on its own and it needs to remain with us. It’s a known fact now as to where the terror comes from. I’m sure all Kashmiris know what their best bet is.

What is the future of K? Will the two neighbours agree peacefully and happily on a common solution? Will one of the two forcibly grab the land and the other keeps whining/striking? Will the situation continue as it is, killing millions of people before life on earth finally comes to an end? Will peace ever flow in the valley, or will it be frozen, cold and dangerous from January thru December?

Sometimes, it’s thoroughly disheartening; when a government cannot preserve the original maps of a state like Nagaland, what it can do to bring a smile on the people of K is open to discussion.

Belt from the blue!

noreply@blogger.com (Aniruddha Agarwal) — Wed, 10 Dec 2008 12:44:00 +0000

There are plenty of reasons why such a weird article appears in this blog. Though I’m sure it will not help me in anyway dealing with people who have inspired this post.

Let’s just take a detour here.

Does anyone know when did people on earth start wearing belts? Well, according to history, belts have existed since the Bronze Age, for men as well as women. However, they were popularised by the military junta of Eastern European countries, including Prussia. These individuals wore belts to emphasize their trim physique and flaunt their wide shoulders. Cartoonists often ridiculed these officers, portraying their waists cinched to uncomfortable extents. Modern belts replaced these military ones in 1920, and it became an accessory that assumed a much lower and a comfortable position (on the waist, that is). Of course, today we have all the possible variants of a belt, including the low waist ones (‘ABCD’ – aga bai chaddi distey), sagging belts; not to mention seat belts, conveyor belts, braces, etc.

The point is very simple.

Many people do not like wearing belts or are rather too lazy to do so. I probably belong to the second category. So does Salil, a batch mate, but since he whiles away most of his time studying in the inner section of the library, he is usually away from the hullabaloo generated by the ‘college public’.

One day, when we all were having lunch at Kalpadroom (a lunch room for students at KEM), Rujul suddenly shrieked and took everyone by surprise. “Hey Ani! You’re not wearing a belt!”

Everyone around dropped their morsels and with open mouths stared at my waist for a few seconds. I guess this is a very unique way of getting embarrassed when one is not wearing a belt. I tried convincing everyone that I was indeed very comfortable. I was better off without the strap of leather tethering my abdomen. There was absolutely no question of my trousers slipping away for good, so there was no need for anyone to be fearful (or watchful). However, this news was enough to cause flutters amongst the paparazzi.

It is now quite a known fact in college that Salil and I hate wearing a belt. Rujul reminds me almost everyday, “Ani, you still don’t have a belt!” or “tune belt kyun nahi pehana hai?” One day, she was kind enough to say, “Hey do you want me to gift you a belt on your birthday?” Soon the news spread from Kalpadroom to katta and we had all kinds of fashion statements from demigods themselves – Rohit, Jaskaran, Nazim, Jasmeen, Sanket, Mahesh, Suyog, Chandan - the list is endless. Once, I chanced upon an interesting line which had the entire katta in splits and the person who blurted this out, rather embarrassed. She said, and I quote, “Ani, why don’t you wear a belt? What are your intentions, haan?!”

I guess the last straw was Mansi’s brother, Manan’s marriage reception. I thought that I had been pestered enough and should oblige others at least once. I don’t recollect exactly, but everyone sure gave me a rousing welcome at Nirali’s place the moment they realised I was wearing a belt. We were invited for lunch after which we had all planned some ‘time-pass’. That was the first and the last time I had gathered enough patience to wear the piece of leather.

After that, a couple of humorous remarks by certain acquaintances:

“You are doing medicine from KEM right? Then you must have a lot of experience under your belt!”

“This rural posting is surely going to hit you guys below the belt…!”

“It’s final year, dude. Better tighten your belt.”