Thursday, 31 January 2013

On Air Again

"...and then Wilbur was all like, 'Dude, did you get the stuff? Let's get high bro' and then it all began. But bringing the ladies to serve was my idea. But I still don't understand why he was so shocked when I brought spanners, screw-drivers and wood to the place.." -Orville Wright in an interview.

So, after lying jobless at home for almost a month, I had a dramatic change of mind and returned back to BITS. And now I lie jobless here. It was Jet Konnect that helped me in reaching this holy abode of 40 inch LEDs and yeah, education, of course.

It was my FFE (fifth flight experience) and I'll recount some facts about this hyped mode of transport.
The most important part of a plane is the air-hostess. I say 'part' because they are definitely clones/droids/transformers and definitely can't be considered Homo sapiens. These are the reasons-
(a) Smile is their only expression. They will smile the hell out of you and keep on smiling even after you kill yourself of Paranoid Schizophrenia.
(b) Their accent is American; the American being the Terminator; which is due to their vocal-cords having been replaced by the Automated Voice Response System that you hear in the Customer Service phone calls.      
(c) There is a thin line between make-up and plastic surgery. And unfortunately they are playing Kabaddi across that thin line.

But despite all these reports from various conspiracy-theorists it has been proved that they are humans too. And below all those layers of cosmetics and plastic smiles lies a delicate heart; which wants you to buy that exorbitantly costly coffee worth Rs.60

At the beginning of the journey, you are explained the number of ways in which you might fail in completing the journey. They tell you what to do in case the plane lands on water, on a volcano, on Mars and all the other places in the universe except the airport where you initially planned to reach, before involuntarily registering into Space-Tourism. But none pays much attention for the obvious reason of not being Saif Ali Khan from 'Cocktail'. But it certainly hurt the sentiments of an old woman sitting beside me who at last growled, 'Kuchh toh shubh-shubh bol kalmuhi!'

And then starts playing low volume music with pianos, saxophones and violin, which seems classy and elite at first but after few minutes you feel like asking the hostess, 'Do you have Honey Singh? The non YoYo one?'

The window seat is amazing though. But only the first time. Because only once can you feel excited and elated on watching towns looking as tiny as your CGPA and the land looking like Abstract Modern Art, which doesn't make any sense unless you are thoroughly stoned. And in case of the clouds surrounding your window, these are the respective reactions-
1st time you watch a cloud: Oh! The divine froth materialized by the holy endeavors of His hands that made the flowing rivers, the rising waves and the growing seed. I bow to Thine supremacy. Alas! My eyes took so long to realize this magnanimous beauty of such celestial nature and heavenly intensity. Pardon me for such a brutal sin Lord. Amen.
2nd time you watch: Yeah, it's very lovely and pretty and white. And I am an agnostic actually. What are your views on the world mythologies?
3rd time: What's the time? I don't think this plane is even moving. Isn't this tasteless sandwich I just ate complementary?
4th: What's this irritating white thing I see all the time? Did some bird shit on my window?

Meanwhile the air inside the plane keeps on entering and leaving your ears without any rhyme or rhythm finally giving you a slight headache. Just like a CDC lecture basically. Simultaneously, the air-hostesses tempt you with various products, which you should profoundly avoid unless you want to land bankrupt. Because the rates are certainly sky-high. (Now I had to use that, didn't I?)

After some staring and boring moments, we finally land and are thanked by the crew for choosing their airlines, or in other terms, clicking at their name which was placed topmost in  for being the cheapest airlines in that route and are bid goodbye with the same tormenting smile.

But airports always make me nostalgic, as the large foreign population there reminds me of those childhood-days when I used to shriek 'Jesus Christ! Jesus Christ!' whenever I saw a hairy white man. Now I have turned a full-fledged Pastafarian and believe only in the Flying Spaghetti Monster, so it's no more a problem.

And so, I end narrating my experience with a noise-making flying-box that frequently roars above the campus teaching us a very valuable lesson of life- 'Brrrrrrrrrrshhhhhh......'



Monday, 14 January 2013

Aata Majhi Satakli

Yes. That's precisely what 'Epidural Hematoma' is called in Marathi.

In case you don't know what EDH means, it's what happens just inside your skull when it falls in love with a hard thing and then falls on it with the speed of light. And I am talking about it as a boy I knew had it, who two days later in half-forgetfulness discovered he was myself. Wait... *Brainfart*

So, it all began after... Well, I don't remember much of it, except the MedC, two other hospitals, strangers poking my veins, friends making guest-appearances, ambulances and making sense of the annoying urine-bag that stalked me everywhere. But the one thing I surely know is, how and why I fell is still a matter of medical mystery. So let's silently blame the cause of my fall on alien abduction and experimentation.

Reportedly, the three weirdest things that I did in the inactivity of my consciousness were:
(a) Trying to talk some sense into a Punjabi friend. That too in Telugu.
(b) Banging my injured head against the CT Scan machine thinking that the doctors were sealing me off.
(c) Explaining a fellow neurological patient that we don't call a barmaid 'Chemical Engineer' in BITS Goa
But then, it all felt justified after I came to know that I had once replied 'Ammeter Rheostat' on being asked 'How are you feeling?' by a doctor.

But the 'Blunder of the Year' award should certainly go to the SMRC hospital which planned on conducting an unnecessary neurological surgery on my brain. And the thing with an unnecessary neurological surgery is, it's even worse than passive smoking. Because both are harmful to health, but passive smoking at least has the decency of being FREE.

But in all these odds, I must admit, it was the all-comforting company of my friends in the Goa Medical College that kept me going, with their highly encouraging comments like, 'You look very smart in your CT Scan' and 'You are all right. See that patient. Is that brown thing his brain?'

Though the highlight was, acknowledging me regarding the free services provided by the GMC including the glucose and saline drips, in these words, 'Abey ek aur bottle ghusane bol. Free ka hai!' And obviously my hungry wrists obliged.

Yes, the days were very strange as was my face, with hair so irritatingly fuzzy that even my comb went- 'lolwut' So, facially I looked worse than Joker from TDK and physically I was worse than Bruce Wayne from TDKR. But of course, the Kabhi Khushi Kabhi Gham moment happened when my parents entered the scene and hugged me, as opposed to my expectations, in which I imagined them to break in 'Holy Smokes! Our son is special now!' slow-motion scene.

Then I was shifted to the MedC, which is the best place that one can get in BITS because the AC actually works there and your routine is something like- Sleep. Eat. Sleep. Eat. Shit. Constipation? Sleep again then.
Moving on to the menu. It too is quite exotic, with fascinating options like- Warm Khichdi, Cold Khichdi, Warm Khichdi being cooled and Die hungry.

On the flip side, you have nurses attending you the whole day. Let's leave aside the fact though, that the most killer pick-up line you can manage is only the- 'No mam. I didn't vomit today *innocent smile* ' But then you are supposed to be 'patient', aren't you? (Though I sincerely regret not using the line, 'I fell for you', anytime.)

But speeches are where mothers are. And thus, I became a victim of the vast maternal oratory in which every sentence ended with- '... and that's why you fell down' Well, she accused events ranging from the Portuguese influence on Goan culture to my low CGPA for my fall and I being left with no options of debate or discussion, continued with my silent slumber.

The doctor then wrote me off for a month of hibernation at home, with a hearty request for a haircut, with belief in the saying that one should have a good wrapping at least, if the gift is bad. And thus, I now rest at home with two hours of computer-time a day, officially bunking classes. Now, when I come to think of all of it philosophically, I feel that it's just a nature's mysterious way of saving me from the tortures of ERP, this semester.

The whole last week came with a moral for me- that you should always have good number of calories in diet and good friends by your side, because they will be the ones saving you, when you fall. And yes my friends did save me. And so did Dr Raghu sir, my warden sirs and my dear hostel-assistant sir.

An ending advice- Don't forget to take care of that huge chunk of meat in your head because, believe me, it can ache in a hundred different ways and subtly show who's the boss, if it wants to.

Signing out!