Wednesday, October 1, 2014

Shh...Don't talk about it

It was bright day. There was a kitty party at a friend's. That meant"No Coooking". Yippee. The theme for the day was white. So I fished out a white salwar kameez from the big dump in the wardrobe and started brushing my hair. The TV was on and was enjoying the live telecast of Asian Games. Suddenly it struck. A shooting pain in the know where. Again and again the spasms took the breath out of me. Though we all say the sentence each time someone is unpleasant, I knew for first time how bad it can get.

Tears rolled down without even crying. The pain was excruciating. I called my friends to let them know that I would not be able join them for the party. Immediately, they wanted to know the reason. Now how do you tell another person that you have a pain know where. I said" tummyache". They said they are coming over to enquire. I could not stop them. So I gathered my courage to spell it out. They came with medicine, one of them being a doc's wife. I have pain around the openings , I said. Openings...what openings, the engineer's wife wanted to know. Thankfully the other understood. She was a Gastro's daughter too.

The pain was unbearable now. So I called hubby and he came over. My friends were there. I lost shame in pain. I burst out "My *&# is paining". Poor guy. He turned the deepest red. I could not stand straight. They helped me to the lift. On ground floor, the caretaker wanted to know what the problem was. Before I blurted out anything, poor hubby said "backache". At the hospital, the first attendant was a male. Hubby had gone to park the car. So this time over he was lucky not to hear it. They gave me an injection, ran me through tests including a scan and found nothing significant. But the pain killer helped. And I learnt the meaning of the oft used phrase.

Friday, September 26, 2014

Whose MOM

"Whose MOM is it?" This is the all important question in political circles of New Delhi. Wondering what I'm talking about. It's about the one of the most significant achievements of India's space history. The launch of Mangalyan and its reaching the red planet Mars in the maiden attempt. MOM has too many Dads now. Manmohanji, Modi Ji, yehji, wohji, sabhiji want to be part of the success. ISRO's scientists don't matter at all. The poor men and women who had sleepless nights working out he atronomical calculations and planning are nobodies!!. The TV channels are cashing on with debates between the jingoistic spokespersons for parties at prime time. I think not even one channel took the trouble to introduce the core team for the mission. They just interviewed one or two and went tothe politicos who promised more masala, more ad revenue.

The evening show was sickening. Uncle Sam's vehicle is also on Mars orbit. Modi is in USA. Most probably the planets foresee a great future for the nations. But, please remember to honour those scientists with something worthwhile.

Wednesday, September 10, 2014

God save the snakes in God's Own country

Kerala teethers. No known medicine can save the state. People who used to drink once a while have become dipsomaniacs. Poor Malayali has no will to live. Live for what with a virtual prohibition in place. Come 12th September, the state's innumerable Bars will fade into history. Booze will only be available in 5 star hotels.

The folkore songs will disappear as there will be no singers. It is a cultural blockade. Only one thing is sure. Bootlegging will be the order of the day. Mahe will have tourist influx. The sun , sand and surf will regain its natural splendour with no tourists to pollute.

The snakes in the state will be overworked. People will queue up for a nice sting. God save the snakes in God's Own country.