Butterflies...

Its been almost a year and a half since I posted a blog ‘Before the alarm goes off’. That was when my final rotation had begun. And on 17^th August 2012, will begin the final posting of my life as a MBBS student. Yeah, internship is still pending, but then things will never be the same.

Even as I write this with a heap of Harrison and Ghai and Dutta and what not notes and short textbooks and MCQ books staring in my face, the butterflies seem to be multiplying like guinea pigs! In fact, wasn't I alright a few minutes ago, until I checked the calendar! Time has flown faster than I thought, I must confess.

What makes me envious are the juniors in the corridors planning their AIIMS trip, freshers in the labs marveling at the beautiful hues of hematoxilin and eosin and getting thrilled at feeling the pulse for the first time. Come-on wasn't it just yesterday that I step foot in this institute, the dream of my life finally fulfilled, and won't it be like tomorrow that it will get over and today is just hurrying away! God, make a Rowdy Rathod, so that I can rewind and replay those moments, good, bad and worst, all over again to my heart's satisfaction. But then, I doubt if I ever will be satisfied?

Sarcasm

Off late I have been enjoying The Big Bang Theory. And the character which appeals the most to me is Sheldon. The high IQ part, love of Physics and know all attitude apart, another similarity which I find with the character, is our innocence when it comes to decoding Sarcasm.

For a very long time I was in the dark as to what the word SARCASM meant itself. I first came across the term in my 6^th standard when while reading a writer’s biopic, came a sentence, “He was a master of sarcasm.” Sarcasm? What was that? An average student would have either asked the teacher what it meant or better still just not bother about it as he didn’t bother about the other things that he didn’t understand. But, I thought I’ll look it up in the dictionary when I reach home. Then in the Geography lecture that followed, the teacher spoke about SAARC (South Asian Association for Regional Co-operation). Being the analytical and inquisitive mind that I was since a tender age I figured out that in English all religions end with ‘ism’. For eg., Jainism, Buddhism, Hinduism, Judaism, Zorostrianism and so on. So, SARCASM was the RELIGION OF THE SAARC PEOPLE. I didn’t discuss this with anyone, wanting to selfishly hoard the knowledge to myself as many of my colleagues still do.

Then I entered medicine. This field has been a life changer for me in more ways than one. In medicine I learnt that anything that ends with an ‘asm’ is a disease. Eg., spasm, neoplasm etc. So, when I was the Editor-in-Chief of the Medical College Magazine last year and some of the members on the editorial board suggested that we add a section on Sarcasm in the magazine, I realised that in the light of the recent advances in vocabulary, as sarcasm has an ‘asm’ not ‘ism’ it is a disease and as almost everyone that you see at in my college is into some or the other research, perhaps they had researched into sarcasm and wanted to publish their findings. OK, I said. Why not? This also cleared my long lasting doubt as to what ‘being sarcastic’ was. I always felt bad, that despite trying to search for literature on the Practices and Believes of Sarcasm and finding none, people easily used phrases such as ‘stop behaving sarcastic’, ‘very sarcastic’ etc. How did they know so much about the concepts of Sarcasm, a long lost religion when it wasn’t even being taught in school or preached somewhere? Now, if I were to consider Sarcasm as a disease, then being Sarcastic made sense, just as being spastic made sense. That writer that I had read about was a biologist who had researched on sarcasm and also written some novels, like most of us nowadays. (I thought it was related to sarcoidosis)

Just by the way, when Baba Ramdev was enjoying his claim to fame, for a short time I also believed that Sarcasm was described in Yoga as Sarc-Aasan, and when I had gone on a tour to South India, I thought Sarcasm was a Mallu delicacy like Rasam, Uttapam, Payappam, Prasadam etc. etc.

So, we had a full section dedicated to sarcasm and my editors handpicked the articles for the section. And when the book was released, a large chunk of people came complaining, ‘There is no sarcasm in sarcasm.’ A couple of contributors even came and said, ‘Jayesh, how could you put my article in sarcasm. It was intended for philosophy, not sarcasm!’ To this my standard reply would be, “I know. Even I didn’t find anything in your article sarcastic, but the editors made the choices.” I mean they were not research papers, but the editors would have labelled me a dictator if I had objected to this decision of theirs.

But, the final nail in the coffin came last week and my eyes opened and I finally got down opening the dictionary and looking up what sarcasm actually meant. I’ll describe the chain of events for you. There is this old foe turned friend in college. Old foe, because we were competitors in 12^th and she wouldn’t be particularly happy on seeing my usually delirious devilish demeanour (I know because she was quite vocal about it then as she is now), turned friend, because as luck would have it, we were batch mates in the first year and she sort of relied on me to pass her exams. Not that I showed her my papers, but she somehow managed to take a peek into them anyway. So, old foe, you can’t trust. She would encourage me to write about people in our college and comment on all the gossip that was going on. While at the same time, she went about bhadkaoing all those people and uksaoing them to slap me,  until a weak hearted human being finally fell for the temptation last week. As I walked into her and a common friend to whom a blog has been dedicated, she declared to me what she was doing all these years when I considered her a friend and even before I could say anything, I had five fingers imprinted on my left cheek, courtesy the other friend as he declared, “Jayesh, how could you have written such things about me.” One more had come up to the Gymkhana the other day, in a manner that was quite reminiscent of those movies of 70s & 80s when the hero (usually Dharmendra) would enter into the villain’s den, unarmed and alone, shout “Kutte-kamine, maa ka doodh piya hai to bahar nikal”, tell him a few things right-left and centre, enrage him, then about 2000 strong fauj of the villain, with fully loaded guns and grenades would attack him, and with a few acrobatic skills and a fighting technique with sound effects of ‘bhishum bhishum’ would kill them all and leave, his anger avenged. Luckily, this time no one got killed, but he did speak to me requesting me “to stop this non sense”, in some not so polite words. The next day onward, I decided to be a little careful about what I commented. So, while I usually am very straight faced and do not hold myself back even while making nasty comments, and refrain from saying polite things as a rule, I toned down a bit and commented “Nice photo” on the profile pic of one of my friends. I expected the reply would be, “Thank you JAYESH”. Instead I got, “Are you being sarcastic?”

This is what people have begun to think of me. Even Anu Kapoor calls me a ‘Sarcastic sperm’ now. 

Just think, if every discussion is to be viewed sarcastically the following exchange of little sweet nothings that I heard while I was sneaking up on the lovebirds in my college will have a completely different meaning,

Girl:  Do you love me?

Boy: Yes. Yes, I love you.

Girl: How much?

Boy: I cannot tell you.

Girl: Till when will you love me?

Boy: Till death do us apart.

Girl: What will you do if I die? (Didn’t you hear, he said the love lasts only till death do you apart.)

Boy: I will go mad. (Seriously???)

Girl: You love only me?

Boy: Yes, only you. And no one else. Tumhari Qassam! (Take the hint lady!)

Girl: When will I meet your mother?

Boy: There is no need. I have told her I will bring home the girl of my choice.

Girl: What do you like about me?

Boy: Nothing in particular, everything in general. Ask me if there is something I do not like about you.

Girl: If an apsara came down and offered you all the wealth in the world, will you leave me for her?

Boy: Leave you. For her????? Never.

Girl: What do I have that an apsara does not have?

The further conversation took a course that is not suitable for a blog meant for family viewing.

I have always been truthful about my opinion. After hunting down Chinkaras and getting drunk and running their cars over poor people sleeping on pavements, don’t you forgive people in the name of Being Human? I have always called smart people smart without intending it to mean dumb. Is it my fault, if you read too much in between the lines and think about yourself the other way round? Anyway, if ever you have felt about yourself that way after reading my blog, intentionally or unintentionally, I apologise. Please forgive me.

A-JO: The Love Story of A Cute and A Serious Boy.

This is the legend of A-Jo and the love of his life, Baby.

1942 B. C., Mesopotamia:

The times in Mesopotamia were changing. The glory and the prosperity were past their peak a long time ago. The hardships that had come upon the subjects had forced a great amount of civilian unrest. Riding on a legacy of peaceful and prosperous existence that spanned over millennia, the administrators of Mesopotamia found themselves incompetent to tide over the crisis. Some serious steps were required to be taken and quickly. For Mesopotamia, the time was running out quickly.

The crisis of Mesopotamia had started a decade ago with the state of Avon declaring its independence after the central army of Mesopotamia failed to secure its gates against the invading Trichons of the North. The Trichons of the North had abducted the Low Chancellor of Avon, Teea and the subjects of Avon had demanded Teea be rescued. But as the constitution of Mesopotamia placed the state before the rulers, this was not to be. And this led to Avon declaring its independence. Many other neighbour states who feared an invasion by the raiding Trichons of the North too declared their independence. Thus, cut off from its most of its resourceful regions, Mesopotamia was under tremendous stress.

“What should we do now?” asked the High Chancellor of Mesopotamia.

“We need to do something, I think!” reiterated the Chancellor of Mesopotamia.

“We should consult someone.” said he High Chancellor of Mesopotamia.

“The Oracle of Jay had predicted the crisis of Mesopotamia a thousand years ago!” reiterated the Chancellor of Mesopotamia.

“But no one knows where the Oracle is now. The founding Fathers of Mesopotamia had hidden in some undisclosed location. And the boundaries of Mesopotamia have greatly expanded since then.....” said the High Chancellor of Mesopotamia.

“Yeah, and greatly shrunken also”, chucked the Chancellor of Mesopotamia.

“Whatever! We need to find that Oracle. It’s our only hope.” said the High Chancellor of Mesopotamia.

“Guards, take out our torches and load our ships. Today we said to find the lost Oracle of Jay.” said the Chancellor of Mesopotamia.

“We cannot go! We are the administrators of Mesopotamia. And also that we are old..... None the less, in order to correctly express the gravity of the situation, we must call this a very High Level State Sponsored Secret Mission. We will have to appoint someone to do this.”, reiterated the High Chancellor of Mesopotamia.

“But, how will we find the right person to find the Oracle of Jay?” asked the Chancellor of Mesopotamia.

“Just the same way as our founding fathers founded Mesopotamia. We will leave at night and travel through the darkness with blindfolded eyes and whosoever we see in the morning first will be our man.”, declared the High Chancellor of Mesopotamia.

“Or woman.....” chucked the Chancellor of Mesopotamia.

And so they set sail. The night was spooky. And the Chancellor's constant chucking throughout the night also contributed to freaking the High Chancellor out of his skin. Finally, the day dawn. The duo unfolded their eyes. And stay in the midst of the unknown land waiting to glimpse upon someone. Waiting for their hope.

At a distance the High Chancellor saw a young man in his early twenties walking alone, whistling a sweet tone. “Good morning Young man. We are the High Chancellor of Mesopotamia and the Chancellor of Mesopotamia.”, said the High Chancellor of Mesopotamia.

“Sire, I am A-Jo. I am a cute and a serious boy!” replied the young man.

“A-Jo, the entire fate of Mesopotamia depends on you. You have to find for us the Oracle of Jay”, said the High Chancellor of Mesopotamia.

“Okay..... How does it look, where is it?” asked A-Jo.

“Well, if we knew all that stuff we would have got it ourselves.....” chucked the Chancellor of Mesopotamia.

“We will wait for you here so that you don't have difficulty finding us later”, said the High Chancellor of Mesopotamia.

“It seems like a dangerous voyage. Searching unknown things in unknown lands. What if I don't return.......” asked A-Jo.

“Well then, we won't wait for you.......” chucked the Chancellor of Mesopotamia.

“Huh...!” exclaimed A-Jo.

“Young man, we'll settle all that after you come back. And think positive. The nature calls for you. Remember, we want only the Oracle, you can keep the ruins of the war!” said the High Chancellor of Mesopotamia.

“Ok, but what if I run of supplies on my journey?” asked A-Jo.

“Tell them, you are on a very High Level State Sponsored Secret Mission.”, replied the High Chancellor of Mesopotamia.

“And how will I know when I find the Oracle of Jay?”

“Just trust your instincts.” replied the High Chancellor of Mesopotamia.

And so, A-Jo set on a journey after which his life would never be the same.

After travelling for 2 days, A-Jo was finally out of liquor. He went to a shop and demanded liquor. The keeper gave him and when asked to pay, A-Jo replied, “I am A-Jo. I am on a very High Level State Sponsored Secret Mission. The State will pay you.” And so, the keeper handed him over to the state authorities.

“Who are you?” asked the Counsel.

“I am A-Jo. I am on a very High Level State Sponsored Secret Mission.”

“What non-sense. And which state is it?”

“The State of Mesopotamia!”

“Guards, Mesopotamia sends drunken spies to Trichon. Imprison him in the invasion tower. They will have to pay for this....... Another invasion is on..... In three days we will invade Mesopotamia.”

In the detention tower, A-Jo was thrown into a cell with only one window. The room was dark and clumsy but for a narrow beam of moon light entering in through the window. A-Jo had become sober by now. “Who--- Who's there? I am A-Jo. I am on a very High Level State Sponsored Secret Mission of Mesopotamia.”, he asked.

“I am Teea, the Low Chancellor of Avon.” was the reply.

A-Jo looked towards the narrow beam of moonlight flooding the clumsy cell. And what he saw stunned him. He lost many a heart beats. From the shadows emerged a figure. Flawless fair colour. Hair that shimmered in the moon light. And did I forget to mention that he had never seen bigger or more beautiful eyes than those. The gait, majestic and classy. A-Jo was swept off his feet. He moved closer. Extending his hand, he touched the beautiful face feeling the warm breath.

“You are so beautiful. What can I call you?” wondered A-Jo loudly.

“Baby! That's sort of a pet name.” replied Teea.

“Oh Baby, you are the most beautiful creation of the creator. All my life, I have dreamed of someone like you. If only I could make you mine?” A-Jo excaimed.

“In fact, you can!” replied Teea. “If we escape from here, you can. Finders keepers!”

“That’s great. But how do we escape from here?” asked A-Jo.

“Well, you seem to be the chosen one. So, you figure out.” replied Teea.

“Have you never tried to escape?” asked A-Jo.

“Well, no. Why should I? I am the Low Chancellor of Avon. Isn't Mesopotamia supposed to send someone over to rescue me? This is such a moot question. And also I don't know horse-riding.”, replied Teea.

“O......, but for this beauty, I would never rescue you. And by the way Avon has been independent for over a decade now and so technically speaking its Avon's job to rescue you, not Mesopotamia's.” replied A-Jo.

“My God, I am ruined! That invasion has brought about so much bad...” cried Teea.

“Do you care educating me a bit more about the invasion?” asked A-Jo.

“OK. You must be aware that Avon has been known to produce the finest species of horses, the Avonian Raptors. Unknown to us, some of our Raptors had escaped our stable and run into the Trichon territory to the North. The Trichons, now craved for the Raptors. And so they invaded Avon and took away the Raptors.” replied Teea.

“Then why did they capture you?” asked A-Jo.

“Well, their leadership felt that I would look very lowly of the mighty Trichons to invade only for horses. So, as the Head of State they took me away as well, aiming to bargain me for a few more raptors and extending the olive stick. But, now I can understand, Avon and Mesopotamia are themselves in a mess, so nothing has happened. Bloody bureaucracy!” sighed Teea.

“I heard them planning to invade Mesopotamia again in three days! What could they want now?” asked A-Jo.

“Well, as far as the rumours go, they are upset over Mesopotamia sending over drunk spies! Or, in untrained hands, Raptors are difficult to control. They must have run off and now they want more.” said Teea.

“Then why don't they trade you for some Raptors as planned, rather than invade?” asked A-Jo.

“You see, Avon is independent of Mesopotamia now. I was an administrator for Mesopotamia. Now, in Avon nobody cares who I am. Dirty politics!” replied Teea “Now I get why this tower is also so sparsely guarded.”

“So, escaping will not be difficult. There is the Great Bear”, said A-Jo pointing at the stars from the window “So, that is the north and Mesopotamia is in the South-East. We have directions. All we need is time and speed.”

“Well, you’re getting lucky!” exclaimed Teea “Baby likes you, and he is the fastest Raptor I've known.” replied Teea.

“Then, what are we waiting for? Hop on. Let's go Baby!!! Yee-haaa!” cried A-Jo.

Surely, Baby proved that he was the fastest horse on Earth. By the time the guards could alert the borders of the escape, the three had already galloped out of sight. By noon the next day, they met the High Chancellor and the Chancellor of Mesopotamia.

“Here's our man!” exclaimed the High Chancellor of Mesopotamia.

“And his woman....” chucked the Chancellor of Mesopoamia.

“No, this is my Baby! And this is the erstwhile Low Chancellor of Avon.”, replied A-Jo.

Mesopotamia prepared its armies.

“I want you two, to quickly go to Avon and get them on our side.”, said the High Chancellor of Mesopotamia.

“But she is worthless there. Avon is independent of Mesopotamia and no one gives her a damn!” protested A-Jo.

“Go there and tell the people that the proponents of Independent Avon had you abducted and Mesopotamia has rescued you. Come on, I expected better from you! You aren't new to this....” said the High Chancellor of Mesopotamia, looking at Teea.

“Dirty politics.....” chucked the Chancellor of Mesopotamia.

And with that Avon and her sister states resolved to rejoin Mesopotamia. The Trichons surrendered when they heard of Mesopotamia preparing an army. Thus, the borders of Mesopotamia expanded even in the North.

“But, the kid didn't get us the Oracle of Jay, and yet he kept the ruins of the war....” chucked the Chancellor of Mesopotamia.

“That is the Legend of the Oracle of Jay! It always appears when Mesopotamia is in danger. Let us say, we have hidden it somewhere safe, only to be searched when Mesopotamia is in danger ever again!” said the High Chancellor of Mesopotamia.

“Legendary...!” chucked the Chancellor of Mesopotamia.

A-Jo and Baby lived happily ever after.