Its not the BEST, its the BEAST

The lifeline of mumbai is the local, it is a known fact. Aiding the local are also the red fleet of buses aka The BEST: Brihanmumbai electric supply and transport. Ah, the red best buses. Red is also the colour of danger. Know what i am drawing your attention too? These buses ply the roads of mumbai, helping mumbaikars get to office, students get to colleges and school and in general the functioning of society. But mind you, the best as they are called, pay no attention to the poor pedestrians, cars and auto rickshaw drivers (not that i am advocating their safe behaviour or driving. In general, it is my observation that pedestrians in Mumbai tend to be more careless than in Chennai or Delhi while driving and road rage is more pronounced in Delhi.) I digressed in the bracket. My other observations about the best are that given their size, they consider themselves the kings of the jungle and don't pay an iota of attention to us lesser mortals, walking the earth. Just close to my campus is the Dindoshi depot. The best move in and out of the depot. There are 2 gates to the depot and the buses just dont look.In the absence of a traffic light, there are buses moving in and out of the depot at full speed. Its like they are telling you "Look at me. Look at my size. I will crush you." And the message is clear to me. At the 2 gates of dindoshi, i look in every possible direction before crossing it. even my campus, a particular bus has to take a U turn, right outside campus. Just the other day, there were blood marks on the road. A campus guard told me the best had crushed a child while reversing. It was sad especially because this is not even a busy area. How can you end a life on a road where there is usually no traffic? I have had some close encounters with the best myself. I am super scared of them. The red signals danger to me. Cliche as it may sound, it is said that with great power comes great responsibility. i would like to say that with great size comes great responsibility. I wish the best drivers drive carefully and prove me wrong when i say it is not the BEST but the BEAST that plies these roads in mumbai.

old times

It just happened by coincidence. I clicked on the song "don't speak" by no doubt. It was a very popular song during my Hindu days.. The band would always play it. and somehow, now i relate to this song quite a lot. It talks of fading friendships, the hurt they cause. Nice song. You feel the pain even though you don't talk about it and pretend it does not exist. "Don't tell me because it hurts". Maybe inside, you feel like crying but you don't because you have to act mature because this is life.. "as we die, both you and i, with my head in my hands i sit and cry" http://www.youtube.com/watch?NR=1&v=5ph3Qg9D-gM&feature=endscreen

the medical profession

It would not be a lie if i told you that at some point in my life i wanted to become a doctor, not the PhD one that i still aspire to be but a medical doctor. I had taken the AFMC exam pretty seriously. i thought i had sevabhaav in me and my father would constantly put this line in my ears "do not become someone who will make money out of another man's misery. be a good doctor" anyway, lots happened. I did not clear the entrances, lost interest and started my tryst with economics, which continues till date. And now i noticed the difference, the difference between a good and a bad doctor in the last few weeks. Its not the first time i fell ill. I have had my share of diseases of and on. When i was in class sixth, i had severe upper respiratory tract infection, which was not treated properly and soon became lower respiratory tract infection and later asthma. The doctor prescribed steroids, which led to weight gain. It is no surprise that those medicines taken then also resulted in some hormonal imbalances to haunt me later in life..stupid doctor 3 weeks ago, one of my friends fell on my knee. there is some inflammation and an irritating pain through my knee. walking is an issue. A week after the injury, i visited a doctor who prescribed an X ray and an MRI by just glancing at my knee. Now, an MRI is a big deal and i hated the fact that i had to get it done. So i waited 2 weeks as advised by my family doctor and then thought i should get a second opinion. The doctor i met today was in sharp contrast with the first doctor. He heard me out, examined me by bending my knee in various positions, told me that in all probability i had a meniscus injury which would take about 6 weeks. He taught me some exercises too and told me to be back in 15 days in case i was not better. I dont know how long it will take, but meeting this doctor instilled a hope in me. A hope that there are still great doctors around and the profession is not a business for some of them :)

Samples on Shadi.com

The first guy that I was supposed to hook up was a certain Mr AM. I refused to meet him because he was 34 years old, stayed with his family and earned about 11 lacs. Money wasn't the criteria but My point was that my peers earned 11 lacs pa when they were 27 and it didn’t make sense to me to settle in a joint family. Plus there was the added pressure of him being from my brother in laws family. And a six year age gap. . Maybe I was not ready. . But I have been independent for too long now. I just couldn't see myself with him. The second person I met for matrimonial purpose was Mr AS. A lawyer, by profession. He seemed decent to talk to. And I did believe I had found someone really nice. However, he stopped calling, messaging back. In fact our parents were in conversation but when the time came to meet, Mr AS simply disappeared from the scene. Then my parents found Mr VS who according to my father was extremely cute. But he wasn’t somebody I could get married to. He did not speak well. He did not want to meet me to get to know me well. He was okay with finalizing everything with my parents. That was not acceptable to me. Later I registered on jeevansathi.com, where I met more samples. Mr VI, who expressed interest and then insisted he wanted a working wife. Mr AJ, who was a divorcee and a classic bodybuilder. All he did was talk about weight. How would he understand what a researcher did? Mr M who kept calling, messaging, telling me I had beautiful eyes and then two days later said it was all a joke. A certain Mr R called me once. He insisted on talking while in the local. The first thing he wanted to know was my caste. It pissed me off. He called me at 12. 45 am again to find out what I liked in his profile. I gave it to him for calling me at an odd time, for asking me my caste and for not going through my profile before making a call. I told him I wouldn’t marry him if he was the last person on earth. This is the story so far. I may find someone, I may not but it is certainly entertaining to look.