Lyrics and music

I seem to have lost all my creative instincts at present, so here I am, showcasing someone else's creativity.

Lyrics taken from a song I can't seem to be able to get enough of. Ellie Goulding and her magnificent voice (which goes to waste in most of the other songs she sings), in this haunting song.

Teacher's Day

It's been a wonderful month, August. In a few days I probably won't even remember any of the great things that happened to me this month, but that doesn't matter. I've been happier than in a long time, and I've started studying Dermatology, which has turned out to be an endlessly fascinating and challenging subject. I've made good progress with my writing, and let's hope you get to see a lot more of that on this blog soon.

Next week will be Teacher's day. So here's a post, to remind myself of some of the wonderful teachers who have changed my life in some way, at some point. I am probably never going to show them my appreciation in person, but the least I can do is write a post.

The one teacher I will never forget is Dani Miss. She was one person who I am sure loved me unabashedly. I was her favorite child. I once kicked someone under the table in a fit of exuberance, and well, she just refused to believe that I'd done it. She even had tears in her eyes (if my 5th standard brain serves me right) on the last day when I went to her tuition. I visited her a few times after that, and since have lost touch, but she is very, very often in my thoughts. Her entire family knew me, because they had all heard from her how fond she was of me. As an adult, my pathological shyness and introversion somehow keeps me from picking up the phone and tracing her, but I know she would be delighted if she ever heard from me. In retrospect, she may be my favourite teacher, ever.

Next comes Kanti Miss, who is a local legend in Matunga. The lady teaches French since decades, is very eccentric and lovable, and every daughter from my family has gone to her for French Tuitions. She also charges fees at Rs. 50 per month, and throws open the doors of her house, entire living room, and sometimes even bedroom, to swarms of students. I will never forget her Sunday Morning sessions, and the wonderful times I've had with her. I loved French, and most of that love stemmed from learning it at Kanti Miss's house.

Then comes Naidu Sir, who is also on his way to becoming a local legend. I will never forget the day I first met Sir, he actually came to my house, after I had filled a questionnaire for admission to his coaching institute. He wanted to ask me how I'd got so many marks in the 9th standard, if I studied for less than 2 hours per day, as stated in the questionnaire. What he probably still doesn't know, is that while filling that form,  the minimum option provided was two hours per day, which was the only reason why I marked it. I clearly did not even study for two hours at the time. The concept of studying EVERYDAY just didn't exist for me. (Yes, I was a 14 year old girl who had never uttered the word medicine up until then). Naidu Sir, if you're reading this, and if you still give students that questionnaire, please add an option of 2 hours per month, which will be more suitable for most 8th and 9th standard students! :D

So when Sir came home and asked me how I got so many marks without studying, I told him I just did. I also informed him that I hated Geometry, the subject he would be teaching me for the next year. Anyways, once I joined his classes, what started was my first exposure to competitive studying in an atmosphere of constant hard work and setting actual goals and trying to achieve them. You must realise how drastic that could have been for me, after reading the above stanza. At Naidu's were also sowed the first seeds of fascination with Science, and with Biology. And I will forever remember his Sunday morning 7 am tests, which were an exceptionally painful exercise for me. What Sir probably doesn't know till date is, after the Monday to Friday classes, and daily homework, I never touched a book for the entire weekend off, and only started studying for the Sunday morning 7 am tests by waking up at 3 am. I just refused to touch a book on Saturdays.

After my results, I remember talking to Naidu Sir on the phone, and the last thing he told me was, "Aayushi, I hope you will stay in touch..." I fervently said yes at the time, and went on to do the exact opposite. Again, my pathologic shyness is to blame, I never feel the need to go and talk to people, I've just survived by replying to their questions for many, many years of my life. I've remembered his words and our good times at the classes many times, and pretty much done nothing about it.

Next up is Prabhu sir, Abhang Prabhu. The man who single-handedly is responsible for a LOT Mumbaikars' admissions to medical colleges. He definitely takes most of the credit for my admission. If I sit to think about it, I can not really say without doubt that I would have gotten into med school if it were not for this man. He is the only teacher who had the audacity to complain to my parents about me, who one fine day called them and told them they should make me a model instead of a doctor, because I clearly wasn't going anywhere with my lack of studying. But well, in the end, his tactics worked.

He got me to shut myself up in a room for months and study and do nothing else. He made students give up their cell phones, stop watching TV, forget the internet and their social lives. He knew what it took to beat the competition, and he made sure all his students knew as well. He used plain logic and cold calculations and coached you to perfection, with only one aim in sight: to crack the CET. No one can doubt that he had a perfect system in place. He taught us the approach to an MCQ based exams, he even taught us the best ways to bluff for MCQs, and he brainwashed the system of rote learning out of most of us.

And mostly, to add to all that, he taught fabulously well. His teachings of genetics have implanted in me a lifelong fascination for the subject. And well, I remember most of his classes being a lot of fun, because he had a good sense of humor. He also managed to create mini celebrities out of students who were rankers, with his system for displaying weekly rank lists. Consequently, when we went to medical school, it so happened that we already knew the names of many of our colleagues who went to Prabhu's, but we didn't know their faces. We just knew that this person with this name had made it to the top his rank list at some point of time.

I'm trying to think of a memorable teacher in Medical school, and well there's none who personally affected my life. That probably says a lot about the kind of Medical Education we have in our medical colleges.

Currently, I'm working at a place where I'm surrounded by many teachers, and most of them are eager to teach and share their vast knowledge and expertise. This is a first for me in many many years, and I'm basking in the feeling of being taught, for now. It's too soon to write about them, but maybe in three years, there will be another post, with newer stories to tell.

Until then, here's wishing a Happy Teacher's Day, to all the teachers I've written about, and many others who have all affected and changed my life. I don't celebrate things, and I don't wish people for anything including their birthdays, but it's high time I wrote this post.

P.S.: Please tell me about your favorite teachers in the comments section!

Source: www.andertoons.com

Source: here

The end of my crush on Ranbir Kapoor

This trailer. This trailer!

Frankly, the trailer evoked nightmares! Ranbir has acted so well, he resembles every roadside tapori to perfection. Just imagining an entire nation of young, influential minds, watching this trailer and this movie, and then aping Ranbir and learning tricks they didn't know already, is enough to give me the chills. To top it off, he looks utterly boring in all the scenes. The *wondrous* dance steps, and the closing scene just seal the deal. Finally, Ranbir has done it. He's acted so well, I have started to dislike him. Somehow my mind just went "ewww.." after watching this trailer. 

I still remember the very first time we saw Ranbir Kapoor. The first trailer of Saawariya to come on TV, and there he was, looking like that! (For reference watch the video below). I remember watching the trailer countless times on TV, and of course everyone either loved him immensely or hated him. The girls who hated him thought he looked too feminine, but mostly everyone loved him.  

After that, I enjoyed most of his movies, Raajneeti remains a top favourite, though it was in Rockstar that he truly stole my heart in the intense role of Jordan. That was followed up with Yeh Jawani Hai Deewani, another movie which I thoroughly enjoyed. (Now why wouldn't I enjoy a movie about a frustrated medical student running away from home? :D)

And now, he goes and does this! Makes a movie like Besharam! I now officially declare that I do not like Ranbir Kapoor anymore! I may admire him at times, but that is all. Now when people ask me "Who is your favourite hero?" (Yes, people do ask such questions all the time), I won't have an answer. And thank goodness for that, right? ;) 

Insert random smart title

It's funny how sometimes you start a new phase in your life, and then you look back at yourself and wonder if the person in the past was really you? Sometimes you go through parts of your life with a feeling of surrealism, and when those parts are over, and many days have passed, you start imagining those things never even happened!

Well, I understand if that doesn't happen to any of you, because well, I know I can be weird! :D

In other news, I have taken to a supposedly underground hobby/movement, "Postcrossing", an international community for sending picture postcards to strangers. If I think about one thing that has kept me extremely happy and preoccupied these past few months, Postcrossing would be the answer. There is just something wonderful about receiving mail everyday, and reading about the lives of faceless strangers, and having beautiful photos in your hands from places all across the globe. In other side-effects of this hobby, my geography, languages, knowledge about India Post and stamps, and about various countries of the world has improved drastically as well. I have also answered a lot of questions about the safety of indulging in such a hobby, and whether I now have many stalkers, and the simple answer is : no.

I have a lot of faith in the basic humanity of every person, and I also trust that a stalker would not go to such efforts as to join a website and make a fake profile about loving postcards so he can stalk and kill someone.

I would love to share photos of my postcards, and basically show them off on this blog, but I don't have a scanner and I am too lazy to get into all that mess with clicking photos and uploading them. I also came to know that most Indians don't have the time or appreciation for something like Postcards, and I guess, when there are so many other problems in the country, this may be understandable to an extent.  And yes, I am sure my postman is going to charge a double Diwali bonus this year, for the amount of cards he has had to deliver to my doorstep!

I am having difficulty trying to talk about something other than postcards, but a book I am currently reading comes to mind. Here's a quote for you:

" The thoughtful doctor, on the other hand, the one who knows the stuff cold but also realizes his or her limitations, tends to train harder, tries continually to learn, and is willing to entertain a wider range of treatment possibilities (and is more likely to treat you, not the symptoms). Because the thoughtful doctor prepares better, he's more likely to pick up mistakes before they manifest themselves, thus avoiding them."
                                        - Cap Lesesne, Confessions of a Park Avenue Plastic Surgeon 

Hmm, food for thought?

How have you all been? Those of you who have moved to new cities, started new courses, selected your fields of specialization, tell me how it goes. If you're busy studying again, tell me how that goes!

More than anything, if you're still reading this blog, send me a shout out! Themes and suggestions for future post topics are most welcome, as is any kind of conversation.

I feel like spoiling my blog for a bit, so I'm going to be talkative, this place has been deserted too long :D

Here's your comic for the day, from none other than xkcd :

Source : here

Movie Review: Ship of Theseus

I went to watch 'Ship of Theseus' today, but only after browsing many reviews on the internet and looking at the trailer. At that time, it seemed very interesting, but also seemed to have the potential to turn into a very boring documentary type movie. Wouldn't have been the first time that critically acclaimed movies turn out to be, well, not that great. I decided to take a risk and go and find out for myself how this movie is, primarily because I liked the trailer a lot.

And 15 minutes into the movie, the reviews all turn out to be true and I have a small smile on  my face as I'm settled in and, for the first time, completely engrossed mentally in a movie. It's like exercise for your brain, watching this movie. No mental relaxation and such things.

ALERT : SPOILERS AHEAD : You can directly skip to the last stanza if you want to avoid them.

We start with a short telling of the riddle of the Ship of Theseus, very intriguing, and then jump into the movie.

First is the story of the foreigner (Arabic) blind photographer. She clicks photos guided by the sounds she hears, operates Photoshop with a software that says everything out loud for her, including a multi-digit number for every shade in her photos, and has a gadget which she points at objects so that the gadget can tell her what color the object is. And not just our basic colors, of course. And she does not believe that she is at any kind of a disadvantage, compared to the rest of us.

To me, the most interesting part of this story was the relationship between her and her boyfriend. It seemed too wonderful to be true. Even their fight was idealistic and wonderful. Also spotted in the movie is an ophthalmologist from the city (we used to study under him, he is a real life ophthalmologist) who conducts a cornea transplant for her. The girl gets back her vision, and apparently simultaneously loses her talent to take great shots. She has problems adjusting to her new life as a seeing person, and then ultimately finds peace on a river bed near the Himalayas. (Or maybe that is how I understood it, not too sure). Here we are treated to a perfectly framed scene of serene natural beauty, and allowed to watch it for long seconds, till it gets a little unnerving.

The second story, my favorite, is about a monk, who is very obviously Jain. He is a very modern and well educated monk, not like anyone you will meet in real life. On coming home I quizzed my Mom about the attire of the sadhus and some differences I noticed, curious to find out which sect of Jainism they were depicting, but Wikipedia later informed me that it is a fictitious religion based upon the principles of Jainism. Oh, well.

The monk is fighting a legal battle to enforce ethical regulations in experimentation over animals by pharmaceutical companies. We are shown scenes of him saving a centipede and observing rabbits being tested for no-tears shampoo. His lawyer/disciple asks him a lot of questions about his principles, and here is some of the movie's wittiest dialogue, and one of the deepest discussions on Jain philosophy I have ever come across.To see this on the silver screen seems to be a miracle in itself.

However, I imagine to people hearing these concepts for the first time, it must have all sounded very strange. The entire basic Jain philosophy is summed up in a song the monk sings in Prakrit, while we read the English translations. The depiction of a monk's life is very wonderful and quite accurate, and some of the best shots of the movie, cinematographically, come in this story. We see them begging for alms and going on their vihaar barefoot. In another memorable scene, this in the background, a young Jain monk is shown under the microscope, evidence for many of the rules of his religion - moving live microorganisms. There is also a dialogue where rebirth into various lower life forms, including microbes and insects,is described in an absolutely wonderful way. You will start looking forward to being reborn as such things, if you pay enough attention :D

 The paradox in this story comes when the monk is diagnosed with liver cirrhosis, and to be able to live, he would need a liver transplant and lots of drugs, by the very same companies he is fighting against. He refuses to take treatment, against all logical arguments presented to him, and starts a fast unto death. The monk is shown in the worst days of his disease and starvation, nearing death, complete with buzzing flies, bed ulcers, bed wetting episodes, and blackened lips. Scarily brilliant acting by Neeraj Kabi who plays the monk, he was my favourite part of the movie. In the end, the monk realises that the preparation of his soul for death in this life is not yet over, and agrees to treatment. Again, this is only my incomplete understanding of the movie.

The third story, which seems very relaxing compared to the first two, shows a kidney transplant recipient, Navin, who while taking care of his grandma in the hospital, comes across a man whose kidney was stolen. Navin, who otherwise does not have much of a social conscience, feels a need to help the poor man whose kidney was stolen one day before his own transplant surgery took place. After confirming that his own kidney isn't the stolen one, and reassuring himself, he traces the stolen kidney to Stockholm, and visits the city to find the actual recipient. In the midst of all this, we are treated to a shot of two female police constables playing badminton (I wonder why?) and one meandering sequence in a slum which will leave you with the feeling of having walked in the slum yourself for those ten or so minutes.

When Navin finally does find the recipient, he insists that the recipient must return the stolen kidney, that is the only way to set this right. The story has a predictable end with the poor victim of the scam happily settling for the loads of money he is offered and refusing to fight a legal battle to get his kidney back.

The end of the movie ties up all the three stories with a connecting thread, I won't reveal what, and leaves you with a very lovely feeling.

My first reaction to the end of this movie was wanting to watch it again. I've decided I love the movie so much I will buy an official dvd when it is available instead of downloading a pirated version. There aren't any morals or lessons to be learnt from any story in this movie, there aren't any easy answers, there isn't any entertainment, but it is still a pure joy to watch. Most of the scenes are just plain beautiful, that is the simplest way to say it. Wonderful actors, intelligent and crisp dialogue, NO songs, lovely sound effects, and lots and lots of food for thought. Many smiles as well.

This movie is extremely highly recommended watching, as long as you don't mind giving your brain some work to do.

Don't give up on the things that make you smile

This blog needs some serious lovin' from me. I've been gone too long, but I'm here now.

I came across this photo a few days back, and it immediately struck a cord. Such a simple thing, yet so effective. Don't give up on the things that make you smile. If you sit down and think about it, how many of us can actually do this? Have we been able to stay true to ourselves, in the face of rationality and ambition and the demands of society and everyday life?

I better stop questioning the purpose of our existence, and move on. Here's a random list of things that make me smile:

Cooking
Poetry
Romance Novels
Painting
Travelling
Sunday Times
Chocolate
Dogs
Taylor
*
POSTCARDS (in caps for emphasis)
Doing well in an exam
Family
Rain
Stories
Ballads

How simple and silly and predictable is the list. And yet, how easy it is to end up going for months without doing any of these things, and letting your life become drudgery.

Today, I just want to tell you one simple thing - In the next 24 hours, do one thing that makes you smile, that makes you very happy, that you're crazy and passionate about. Pamper yourself, give yourself a treat, take a break. Make yourself happy.

And let me know how that went :D

I know this is not my usual writing style. I don't do philosophy and self-help and spiritual liberation and positive attitude. I don't. But sometimes everybody needs to.

Tell me about the things that make you smile. I'll be back in this space soon to rant and rave about my life, and to pound you with unforeseeable lectures and awful humour (It's so awful it becomes funny).

Please stick around! <3

Here's a comic to entice you to stay:

Source: This lovely blog : http://literaryemergency.com/

Rambling which led to a post about feminism

I'll jump straight to the subject matter of this post, which is....
which is...

which is...

I guess I'll just start rambling, since there seems to be no subject matter :-|

I've been learning driving...if sitting in the driver's seat and gripping the steering wheel so hard your knuckles turn white, instead of actually steering it, and braking at the slightest of flutters in the traffic around you can be called , er, driving! Anyways, it's becoming less stressful and more enjoyable with every passing day.

I've already endured 5 shouted abuses, and 106 disdainful glares from male co-drivers on the Indian roads in my 15 hours spent in the drivers seat so far. Hah, I am sure you can't beat my stats :D  Also, not to mention the, uh, *gentle* nudge on the arm I gave to a gentleman with my car. He was quite forgiving about it, so no worries there. I told you no one can beat my stats!

After reading this post, if everyone I know refuses to ride in my car, I'll understand. I would too, in your place.

In other updates, reading about Beyonce's Mrs. Carter World Tour, has had me re watching a lot of her videos, since (sadly) she's unlikely to come to India anytime soon. And also because with the NEET results nowhere in sight, I have a lot of time to waste. Her presence on stage leaves me in sheer awe. Watch this video, if you have a lot of time to waste like me, in order to understand the woman, her prowess, and why feminism suits her so much.

And that brings us to the topic of feminism. Now this is a concept equally loved and hated. Look at these examples:

How difficult is it to understand that feminism DOESN'T mean not hitting a woman back if she hits you. If a woman is out to kill you, yes, you got to save yourself!

I have realized that many men, especially young Indians, have their views on feminism that are somewhat like this: "All women are b@#%$#s. They ruin our lives, they break our hearts, they take advantage of us whenever needed, and they are hardly the hapless beings they portray themselves to be. They always get the easy way out. And then they propagate this feminism! As if we don't have enough to deal with already! They are the last people who need any help in surviving. Because they trample all over us whenever they need to anyways!"

I hear you, I do, but feminism ISN'T about her, that woman who may have manipulated you, taken advantage of you, cheated on you, or whatever they did to you! No! I am sorry if some woman did something bad to you, but that doesn't change or take away what millions of women have to go through, around the world, everyday, at the hands of men.

Read this, and try to understand:

 

Source: here

You still don't think feminism is needed? Go talk to the next girl you meet, and ask her. No matter how educated and privileged she may be, if she is an Indian, she has probably faced sexual discrimination in at least some form on more than one instance in her life.

Anyways, here's what I need feminism for:

1. Being told, after doing well in a college viva, that it was probably only because I am female and good looking, and the examiner was male.
2. Being told, that it is every girl's duty to excel at household work, while it is derogatory for a male to do the very same household work.
3. Having been eve-teased and groped even before I turned 15.
4. Being scared to use public transport when I am well-dressed and alone.

These are just some of my personal reasons. I am sure millions of women around the world have millions of reasons why they support feminism, most of them much, much more serious than mine. Feminism is justified, and needed. It's time for us to understand and accept that, and stop cracking jokes on the subject.

Moving on, here's a couple of petitions for you to sign regarding the NEET PG case:

Petition 1
Petition 2

Let's all hope the end to this nightmare is near. And let's all hope it doesn't end with yet another nightmare.

I will continue my rambles in the next post, now signing off.

Let me know in the comments your views about feminism, and if you're a girl, any reasons why you may need feminism, or the reasons why you are against it.