Uhh the life choices

Having. a cousin of your own age can be tricky. And worse, when he's rich.

When Juls' dad married my aunt they were an ordinary family. He went off to Gulf and made a lot of dough. Jul have had a great time, being the only son. He went around the globe, screwed the prettiest girls, had a great life. Now he's planning to settle down to a good domesticated girl from 'ancient Christian family'. Now whatever that means I don't know.

Now my folks , on hearing that, have decided its time I settle down too. I said mom, I don't have the capital to settle down. Moreover I don't have the guts to tell them I don't want any domesticated version.

Facebook couples

Facebook is a window to the users soul. A few years ago the people my age were busy getting married.

Firstly the announcement of 'I'm in a relationship' would come. Then It's the event invitation announcing he/she got hitched and you be there to witness event of the century.

The walls were filled with beautiful wedding photos, very much tailored by PhotoShop. The profile picture changed to the lovey dovey couple. They were so eager to announce to the world that this was a match made in heaven.

Then came the honeymoon pics. The girl looking cute and hot & the boy  very handsome. It seemed the couple were accidentally stuck using a strong adhesive and they never will separate. The location would be straight out of some post card. A little rich would go as far as to Switzerland to rewind the Yash Chopra magic.

Soon the profile picture would cut itself to half. If they were foolish enough for unprotected love, then the cute little baby would do the honours . Some would be even more dumb to share the passwords in the days of passion. Then there will be a scramble to reset.

Once upon a time people who were idealistic enough to chat will be very much alive late into midnight.

The Doggie style

Life is a strange maze of twists and turns. You'll feel like sitting down nd peninng down the last chapter when you hear a sound: Story ab thak katham nahin hua boss.

When I came to stay on with the old man and lady, Tito was there too. Tito was not really expensive breed. Some local kind with cute spots. They addressed him as 'he'. So I thought he was a guy dog.

He had this habit of running away with the fresh newspapers and slippers. So everything was barricaded as soon as he was out for his morning stroll. He never ever barked when a stranger came into the house. But even a whiff of a fellow species would send him mad.

Dogs are a symbol of aristocracy in the neighbourhood. Most of his neighborhood mates weren't much happy for him. He was never left out of house and the war of words/barks always happened from inside the compound walls. One day I happen to see his enemy come running and attempting to pee outside the gate to piss him off.

Last evening as I stepped in back from office I saw aunt sitting depressed on the door. I was bit alarmed. Tito seemed to have run away. ' I searched everywhere . Some thieves must have stolen him off '.

I felt sorry for them. Inspite of Tito's tantrums , he was a relief for the old couple to make their idle lives tick on. Recently he was showing signs of terrible distress. Food was left untouched. This was interpreted as another of his tantrums. But he was not worth a steal!!

Night.. aunty screamed for me. I ran out to her.' Tito is down in the basement....with three little puppies'

' What!!!? How can HE give birth'

It was uncle who answered "Tito was a 'she' not a ' he'."

I was thanking the amazing grace when Aunty said : What a shame to the family. How could she do this to us.

Uncle: May be this is Immaculate conception

A ham burger

Today was especially boring and too much lunch and a sumptuous treat that followed resulted in a very very drowsy afternoon. We have a provision of organization sponsored tea towards late afternoon. But the miser of manager is too much concerned of the branch’s profit and his promotion (which are intertwined) .

So I walked into Café Coffee Day. Essentially the prices are on the higher side. But the cool ambience and the tasty cookies have no substitution. There I sat munching on when a family walked in. Two young kids and a father-mother pair. They were very neatly dressed but in simple attire. They walked in. The kids were excited and they saw the menu and they gasped in horror. May be a week’s salary might go in for the treat. They walk out after mumbling some excuse to the waiter.

I always dreaded to be in a position where I won’t be able to afford the basic luxuries. Sadly the bar for the ‘basic’ go up every day. Long ago when I was a kid, I and my cousin got together at my home. I asked what ‘ham’ in a ham burger is? I had never tasted a burger. I had the impression it was some exotic stuff. My dad didn’t indulge us by taking us out. He gasped, ‘You have never tried one?’ Later my mom told me, ‘You should have never asked the question. We will take you out one day’ Till date they haven’t treated me with a ‘ham’ burger. Today I am also thankful that they didn’t ‘harm’ me with those junkies.

A hospital experience

I detest hospitals and the smell of their detergents. Our family is very much averse to visiting a doctor, getting injected or lying in a hospital bed. Still these are inevitability of life. I always had this nagging nightmare of a loved one in hospital bed.

Last week I had to cut short a weekend road trip and rush back home. My dad was down with dengue. Dengue is not good especially when you have started to age, with various other complications already haunting you. We were a bit tense. Dad was too eager to go back home and doctors were having none of it.

We had to stay up in a general (common) ward as this was a season for fever and there was no private rooms available. We got used to the ‘first’ experience slowly as Dad fought a battle to eat as much as he can inspite of little appetite. We had to coax him like a stubborn kid on slice after slice of fruits.

Soon we got used to the ‘horror’ of staying a common ward. As humans we were more exposed to vulnerability of mortals. There were patients raging from babies to old men. We got used to the loud wails, farts, moans, gossips. There developed a strange camaraderie as majority of the bedridden had very few to look after them and a very few bedridden were suffocated with attention.

The cheerful nurses kept the clock ticking. They ran around doing their chores for 12 hours straight.. The hospital toilets were spic and span despite overuse. The staff made extra sure about these and cleaned them thrice a day. They even knew one or two tricks in case of an emergency.

I wouldn’t say I enjoyed the stay. But yes, it was memorable. But a memory I wouldn’t want to repeat.

A hospital experience

I detest hospitals and the smell of their detergents. Our family is very much averse to visiting a doctor, getting injected or lying in a hospital bed. Still these are inevitability of life. I always had this nagging nightmare of a loved one in hospital bed.

Last week I had to cut short a weekend road trip and rush back home. My dad was down with dengue. Dengue is not good especially when you have started to age, with various other complications already haunting you. We were a bit tense. Dad was too eager to go back home and doctors were having none of it.

We had to stay up in a general (common) ward as this was a season for fever and there was no private rooms available. We got used to the ‘first’ experience slowly as Dad fought a battle to eat as much as he can inspite of little appetite. We had to coax him like a stubborn kid on slice after slice of fruits.

Soon we got used to the ‘horror’ of staying a common ward. As humans we were more exposed to vulnerability of mortals. There were patients raging from babies to old men. We got used to the loud wails, farts, moans, gossips. There developed a strange camaraderie as majority of the bedridden had very few to look after them and a very few bedridden were suffocated with attention.

The cheerful nurses kept the clock ticking. They ran around doing their chores for 12 hours straight.. The hospital toilets were spic and span despite overuse. The staff made extra sure about these and cleaned them thrice a day. They even knew one or two tricks in case of an emergency.

I wouldn’t say I enjoyed the stay. But yes, it was memorable. But a memory I wouldn’t want to repeat.

Lesson from a Mango Tree

The last week has been a bit painful. I aggravated my wrist injury. I guess there were some ligaments strained. I will have to spot a splint over my right hand for a month. It had been a bit of inconvenience for the first one week. The load you had been giving to the right hand had to be distributed to the left. Even the basic human functions such as bathing and eating were becoming a chore. Anyways things are getting better.

My dad belongs to the old school of thought when it comes to spending and saving- Save as much as you can and spend as little as possible. This species are on the verge of extinction now. Thanks to higher income, people develop an itch when they don’t spend.

While I were doing my college, dad developed a passion with farming. With the little space we had, he did a vegetable garden. He went to different places to get the seeds and other technical necessities. I used to get pissed of at this. It was difficult to get the pocket money out of him. But he had no problems in spending on his garden.

During those years of rebellion, I used to question his actions. The trees failing to produce anything became a good weapon for me to jeer at him. The mango trees used to grow with much foliage but with no signs of produce.

A few weeks back they did flower and mangos have sprouted in numbers. When I look at them, I see the pointlessness in the years of rebellion. But then you’ll have to pass through all phases of your lives!