Monthly Archives: March 2009

8.1 seconds! Shit! I nearly fell in love…

My friend called me up yesterday morning and said, “Did you see today’s newspaper?” Usually this statement/question means, “I don’t care what your answer is, I am anyways going to tell you the most worthless piece of news from the bottom corner of lifestyle or celebrity gossip section”. So, I go with my standard reply to such situations, “Nay! Was too busy with work. Did not get chance to look at it till now. What is it?”

“Oh! It is this article about this research that men take 8.2 seconds of gazing at women to fall in love. What do you think about it?”[Read the article here]

“What paper is this and where did it get published?”

“Hold on…yeah the article says it is in Archives of Sexual Behavior. Comm’on tell me what do you think about it?”

“First I need to check the article, but from top of my head, I think it simplifies things for women a lot, you just have to carry a stop watch with you to find your options and secondly, I am surprised it was 8.2 seconds; I always thought that it would be like 2 seconds or something.”

“Seriously, tell me what you think about the research?” and then she adds, “Seriously!”

“What do you mean, seriously? The article was in Archives of Sexual Behavior for heaven’s sake. I don’t have access to that journal. Normal scientists don’t subscribe to such journals. But I will check that out and let you know.”

“Okay! Bye”

I keep the receiver down and start thinking with a half asleep brain. 8.2 seconds! Shit! I think I need to rework my ‘Women-I-Love-list’. Lot of addition or subtractions required. Frankly, I am surprised that the calculations showed 8.2 seconds, I was expecting it to be much less. Eight point Two seconds! Its even less than the 100m sprint record. It is less than…

Phone Rings…Rings again…Rings again again…

“Hello!”

“HEYY! Me again! I was wondering that it would be really interesting to calculate the time required to ‘fall out’ of love.”

“eh…hmmm….”

Autopsy Notes

“We cut and open the body with an electric saw…” and he continues, “…but for skull, you actually have to use hammer and all!”. That’s my brother replying to the question, “What did you study last semester?” For some odd reason, he talks only about his ‘autopsy’ class from his medical school curriculum, and he is extraordinarily good at describing it in most graphic way possible. Since I have heard it so many times, I take the opportunity to notice the expression on people’s face change from general curiosity to puke-ish. His descriptions are a normal non-medical students nightmare and, a Tarantino fan’s sweet dream.

Its his passion for work, that he would go to the extent of telling any relative, friend, stranger on the next berth, Australian tourist at Taj Mahal, regular-Saturday-beggar on street etc, every minor detail of each autopsy procedure; and his vivid wordplay will take into account every tiny drop of blood that came out of dead body. It is as if the description is not gross enough, then he has not done justice to his profession. Things become even more interesting when he decides to find analogies; “We once had this burns patient, and her skin crumbled off like you are taking a potato peel off”. And believe me, no amount of “ahhh!!”, “ohhh”, “please stop!”, “my ears can’t take it”…are enough to stop him from explaining more.

“Doesn’t it bleed when you cut it?”

“Oh it does! Like big time! The dissection table is constantly being washed with water…Blood is like all over the place!” The only thing people can imagine after hearing this is a dead body swimming in a pool of blood, and my brother, the Edward Scissorhands of medical world, ripping every organ out of it.

Somebody once asked him, “Do you cut the head too?” And my brother replies, “Yes we do, but the procedure is slightly different. Since the skull is a very hard. We have to use a hammer to break it open. BREAK IT OPEN! Yes those are his exact words. At that very moment I felt a slight discomfort in my skull. Some of you may be feeling it right now. “We take out the heart, lungs, kidney.. and weigh them, check for toxicity, poisoning and lot of other things…”, he will say and my internal organs would start sinking and hiding behind each other.

My favorite part of his description comes when somebody asks, “So how do you put every organ back in place, once you are finished with the autopsy part?”

And his invariable first reply is, “No, we don’t!” and then he chuckles and adds, “Just kidding! We do put everything back but not at fixed position as such. We just put everything in the body and seal it back!” Once, a friend of mine fainted after hearing this. When she woke up in a hospital and found my brother standing next to her hospital bed, she fainted again. My brother till this date argues that it was just a normal relapse of unconsciousness, and his presence had nothing to do it.

An obnoxiously cliched Giraffe joke (in cartoon form)

giraffe-and-muffler

I don’t know why I feel really demented today. A taste of my increasing dementia can be seen in Owl and giraffe cartoons. But don’t worry, I am consulting this African Witch Doctor to regain normalcy. Things will be normal soon.

Earlier Post

I know! I know! My last post left following impressions;

1) I am a teenage girl, who wrote that post lying face down in her bed, and thanks to a heart break, by the end of post, her laptop was floating in a sea of tears.

2) I was smoking pot when I wrote my last post.

3) I am an old man who is called ‘ancient’ by his neighbors and ‘heritage’ by county officials, and I have ‘seen it done it all’.

4) I am the messiah of pessimism and harbinger of the idea that “World’s End is the final solution”

5) I am suffering from acute clinical depression, which is manifesting itself into a ‘Piss Off Hate All’ attitude.

6) I was under ‘Imperius’ charm and somebody else was making me write that post.

The truth is that I don’t know why I wrote that post. This honest confession may fit well with some of the impressions you had cultivated. (e.g. Imperius charm or smoking pot idea). But here is something else that I realized today and may be useful to you people:

“70% of people who know me think I am retarded. Rest 30% are wrong”

Overrated

“You will remember me when the west wind moves,

upon the fields of barley…”

Sting is singing and playing on lute. #$^&ing shit. I have been playing this song over and over again, thinking that my life would also turn out like that of a fictional character from a TV show, where I first heard this song. Stupid Genius I am! Genius-ness is overrated. Stupidity is real. A perennial existence of self destructive stupidity; that’s reality.

…Will you stay with me, will you be my love

Among the fields of barley…

What the hell are we talking here. Putting ourselves in self constructed sea of pretense. Yes, that’s exactly what we are doing. Love is overrated. Grossly overrated.

Your dreams are overrated. They will be stomped and trampled under every other walking feet, that’s their truth. Optimism is overrated. Hope is overrated. Smiles on face masks you adorn are overrated. Happiness is overrated. Sadness is overrated. Craziness is overrated. Pain is overrated. Worthiness is overrated. Times are overrated.

…When we walked in the fields of gold

When we walked in the fields of gold…

Disguises in theater of life are overrated. Very existence is overrated. The truth is that you are just a grain of sand. A mere grain of sand and the wind that dumps you at different places is the overrated truth.

[Note: It is not my typical style of writing, but on second thoughts, I don’t have a style of writing. So I am at full liberty to write whatever I want in any style I want]

Thieves get rich, Saints get shot…

…, and God don’t listen to prayers a lot. I don’t know why this title. My brain’s frozen. No! Its actually clogged.

A couple of weeks back, I kicked off my movie career with an extras role in some D-grade zombie movie. I was supposed to play a civilian who has to run out after  zombies attack the town. Now, it might sound like a simple task, but it is not. Not at all, when you have so many things to take into considerations. Like, how fast should I walk out of town? Should I be walking fast or running? Where should I look? Not into camera definitely but where? What do I do with my hands? Fold them or put them in my pockets? But in the end, I think I managed fine. I will send you the links to my IMDB page, once the movie is out. (if it does)

Theater group is going great. We are performing couple of short sketches at a café this week. I am playing alter ego of a girl in one sketch and a dead body in another. Two things happen when you are asked to play a dead body; sudden realization that you are a very very bad actor, and pleasure that people recognize your sloth like laziness. For the alter ego of a girl role, I have to convince the girl to kill somebody. Perfectionist as I am, I have started to dive into the roles. If you are in state college, and some random guy walks up to you, says, “Kill her” in a freaky psychopathic killer tone, and then falls flat on ground, then you know it is I!

I have two minor wounds on dorsal side of my right hand, but I have no recollection of how I  got them. Since I don’t do drugs, alcohol, and eat worms-that-eat-you-back-from-inside, I thought of the only possibility and called University Health Services and asked them, “Is there any test that can tell me whether I am a schizophrenic or not?” The woman on other side of counter paused for a few seconds and replied, “Has anyone been killed near you, recently?”

Somebody asked me, “How is life going?”. I did not feel like answering the question, so I took out my note pad and scribbled in his face, “Acute tonsillitis. Can’t Speak”. But here is something to keep your brain cells alive:

“It’s called flowers wilt. 
It’s called apples rot. 
It’s called thieves get rich and saints get shot. 
It’s called God don’t answer prayers a lot. 
Alright, now you know.”

— Stephen Sondheim in MERRILY WE ROLL ALONG

Most Boring Thing

shaving-brush

I don’t know why I am not writing anymore. I think, it has something to do with me being lazy and Microsoft powerpoint for mac making it real easy to draw callout boxes and add text to them.  I just decided to make a promise that next post is going to be like older ones; full of gibberish text. (Warning: I am not a good promise-keeper)

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