Friday Word: Fear

She stared at the creature in front of her. She realized she was rooted to the spot unable to move and simply staring into its eyes without blinking. It was reciprocating with a similar stare, as if playing bluff to see who moved first. A thousand thoughts raced through her head, can they smell fear? Was she close enough for it to smell her fear? She mentally reprimanded herself for drifting off topic instead of deciding how to approach the creature in front of her.

She was scared, that was for sure, petrified perhaps for the first time in her life. She should have known better then taking a walk in the dark in these parts which was the creature’s favorite haunt. She let out a sigh and shut her eyes for a brief instant before jolting them open. It was gone. She jumped up in lightening and went around in circles wondering if it was sneaking up from behind her. No, not behind her, suddenly she was going in more circles trying to see if it was exactly behind her and moving with her. No that wasn’t it either. She looked up before chiding herself, its not like the creature could fly or even climb trees. What was she thinking? She quickly consoled herself, fear makes a person go crazy, she was simply having a few irrational thoughts, it was allowed.

She turned around to spot a clear path between her and the house, quickly calculated the distance and the time it would take. She took a deep breath and decided it was time to make a run for it, and so she did. She ran like she hadn’t run in years. She ran like her life depended on it and it probably did, lest the creature apprehend her again.

She heard a faint noise and turned just in time to see the creature gaining on her. His determined set of eyes instilled greater fear in her and she was suddenly afraid she wasn’t going to make it. She stumbled and fell and began mentally praying to God to forgive her for all her sins, asking for a chance to confess all her minor glibs to her parents etc when she heard a voice.

“Dew, stop, DEW!!”

She opened one eye hoping against hope, and saw the creature stopped merely inches away from her.

“Dew SIT”

It sat huffing and puffing, and then ambled towards her, causing her to squirm and began praying again. It licked her face. Now most would think a dog is showering the person with affection when it licks your face, she was one of those few who knew it was merely expressing regret at being unable bite and taste the person so was settling for a lick instead.

“Honestly, girl its only a dog. A pint sized dog at that, how can it possible scare you?”

She shrugged, mentally thanking her stars and guardian angels and everyone else in a speech that would possibly rival the longest of award function speeches for saving her that day and followed her savior into the house. She also conveniently agreed that since she had been given more time to live she should set right the minor glibs instead of confessing to them. That having been sorted, she happily followed her savior into the house

Living Wills

Several similar situations have arisen in the past few weeks forcing me to think on a topic I generally avoid.

No its not Death, its the phase right before death. What happens if death is not sudden? What happens if Death comes after a prolonged illness and lots of suffering.

What happens when there is a prologed illness and lots of suffering but no death?

No, I am not talking about euthanasia here. However, I am talking about the fine line between euthanasia and living wills. There are several occasions when there is no living will, especially in India. People announce and let their wishes known that I would never wish to live as a vegetable, but most skirt around the topic altogether.

In those conditions when you have to decide on behalf of your loved one whether to pull the plug because they didnt wish to live like that, how do you?

I was advised recently in no uncertain words that extending the life shoulndt be at a cost of the quality of life. Granted yes, but if a surgery will add another five years to someone's life then would you decide against it? If chemotherapy might cure the cancer would you decide against it simply for what the person might endure for the two or three months while undergoing therapy?

It is so unfair to ask someone's children or loved ones to make that decision. How does one decide when their loved one has suffered enough. I agree, its inherently selfish on the part of the ones that are left behind but I would not be able to pull the plug on anyone.

I agree its a lot worse when it comes to medical insurance and affording the treatment. There was an article in the paper recently about a poor farmer and his wife not being able to afford treatment for their 4 year old daughter, stood outside the hospital and offered to sell their teenaged son to raise the money. The hospital intervened on finding out and waived most costs, but that is rare. (Of course I was so proud and happy that in rural India someone decided to sacrifice a son to save a daughter but... that is a different post)

I guess its been on my mind, Would you want someone to pull the plug on you? Alternatively would you be able to pull the plug on a loved on?

Burma/Myanmar

I came across this blog recently that is attempting to highlight the atrocities currently underway in Burma. I cannot vouch for the authenticity of the material but most news sites are also highlighting the blog and since very few media ppl have access to the country perhaps this is the only semi-accurate picture we are going to get

http://ko-htike.blogspot.com/



Its nearly sad that people expect China to assist in maintaining the human rights of the Burmese ppl when it is so ruthlessly crushing the human rights of the Tibetans.

4th CISM Games

The 4th CISM Military World Games are about to begin in Hyderabad. CISM (International Military Sports council) has 127 members and more information can be found at their website here.

I am surprised at how much this event has been underplayed because I am barely finding out that 105 countries are going to be participating in a championship second only in magnitude to the Olympics in Hyderabad. Also, why I am sharing this piece of information with all of you.

I do hope that the event gets the publicity it deserves and we hear more from it in the coming days, not to mention that the Indian contingent wins a medal or two.

Who else?

She drummed her fingers nervously on the table as she finished her maths homework. She was nearly done with all her homework but had saved some just in case. Her siblings were playing around her and now she did what she did best occasionally, pretend to do homework. She knew it would be highly beneficial later that night if she was caught.

She glanced at the watch 5 p.m. Any minute now he would walk in the door and she would have maybe 2 hours before she risked getting caught. Her siblings were pestering her to play and she put on a grim face and asked them to leave for she had to study, she even reprimanded her sister for not getting homework done on time.

Her sister for her part made a face and scampered off to play. The ringing doorbell had her running towards the door as quick as lightening. She flung the door open to see her partner in crime standing there. She glanced up at him with hope in her eyes and the mischievous gleam in them didnt disappoint. Flinging her arms around his legs, for that is about how tall she was, she stood there hugging him before she heard her mother approach.

He quickly slipped her the contraband merchandise and she hid it behind her back and snuck back to her study table. Her books and items were quickly rearranged with the contraband safely tucked within her history text book as she began reading. The noise around her faded and the world was a distant memory as she absent mindedly nodded occasionally to her mother's words and her sister's demands.

She lost track of time and didnt hear the doorbell ring again. She didnt hear her sister animatedly talking to their father and she didnt hear the him come into the room and stand above her head to see what she was so studiously reading. It was a bit of a surprise when he yanked the book and stood fuming. Her mother stood shocked and her siblings giggling behind their mother.

She had been reading the monthly edition of Chandamama hidden safely within the confines of her history book. Her dad fumed, "I thought no reading this till exams are over?"

"But I studied all day." she tried to argue

"What I dont understand is how she got her hands on this to begin with." asked her confused mother.

Her siblings volunteered, "Who else but Dada would spoil her?"

Her parents nodded in agreement, for it was always her partner in crime, her grandfather who spoiled her, bringing her all the books her voracious reading appetite could devour, even during exams week and even when her father deemed them contraband. Who else would spoil her, who else indeed?

1857-2007

A British Delegation arrived at Lucknow today and was met with heavy protests. They were in Lucknow to tour the Residency which was prominently a part of the 1857 uprising against the British.

The 1857 uprising is seen by the Indians as the first war for independence, by the British as a mutiny of the kings under them and the Indian Sepoys employed by them. The consequence was that the unorganized uprising was squashed nearly a year later and India's controls were handed over from the East India Company to the British Crown. So India was no longer being exploited for the profit of a handful individuals but for the comfort of a nation.

The delegation comprising of historians, tourists and notably a descendant or two of generals who played a major role in the British comeback. Their graves are located in Lucknow Residency and the delegation was allowed to visit on the condition that they pay their respects at the graves but cannot celebrate the occasion or mark it with ceremony.

The BJP, Shiv Sena and the likes have held protests that have threatened to turn violent at the notion that the delegation be allowed at all. They see it as disrespecting the martyrs of the 1857 uprising.

While I feel that everyone should be allowed to visit graves and pay their respects, a few things about it do bother me. It is a delegation that is visiting key sites of the 1857 uprising. It is a specially marked delegation visiting on the 150th anniversary of the uprising. They could come individually, they could come without the pomp and ceremony and go quietly and visit the grave side. Did they really have to be part of an official delegation specially co-inciding with the 150th anniversary etc etc...

I disagree with the method of protest and I disagree with it being used as yet another tamasha that BJP usually utilizes to pump up its vote machine, that too in a crucial state like UP.
I dont however disagree with the sentiment behind the protest. It is time we mend fences, it is time we move forward as a modern nation having shed the shackles that previously bound us.

Yet there is a fine balance between embracing our future and disrespecting our past. They have as much a right to mourn their dead, it is a significant factor in their history. Is the visit an affront to the freedom struggle whose fruits are barely years old? Should the delegation have been allowed to come in the first place?

I cant seem to decide, what do you all think?

Dots and then some

Note: In lieu of my increasingly sporadic blog entries, I was assigned the word "dots" last week by a friend and told to write something...So here it is, I wrote something.Err after the initial comments i realized i need to specify ITS FICTION.. IT DIDNT HAPPEN TO ME U GUYS

One never expects something simple to leave a permanent mark in your life, a single incident that inspires such strong emotions that you are never fully able to get past it. Well such an incident did occur in my life and I still remember it as vividly as it was yesterday.

I had gone through a quarter life crisis of sorts and done a complete make-over of my life, or atleast attempted one. New job, new city and a whole new set of friends, sometimes you think that is all it takes to get a new life doesnt it? Well one often forgets that the good thing about the old is that its familiar and familiarity may breed contempt but atleast it saves you from incidents like what I am about to narrate.

A few colleagues at work had invited me to a Friday night Dinner that they said they were hosting to welcome me, into their group, into their lives, into the company and to the city. I was excited and nervous, well I dont care what the world's philosopher's say, first impressions do matter and this one was important to me. Very simply I needed to make a good impression on the people I'd be seeing all day at work and more importantly this whole new city new life plan was starting to stare at back at me with some gaping flaws. For instance believe it or not trying to make over your life is easier then making over your personality and a shy quiet person like me finds it difficult to go out and make friends. I wasnt going to perch myself at a coffee shop and try and make friends with random strangers now was I? Who knows what psychoes lurked within them. So this day and this event was rather important to me.

Nervous as I was, I left an hour early. Big mistake considering that my "friend"'s house was only 25 minutes away. I didnt want to be late, what kinda impression would that make so I was early and I sat and nervously fiddled in my car for a few minutes, drove around the neighborhood for a few more minutes and wiled away the time. I perched myself outside their door for a few minutes till it was 8pm on the dot when I rang the bell.

Loud cheers welcomed me into the house and easy conversation flowed soon after. I relaxed my guard, I can do this I thought to myself, they are a great bunch of people and things seem to be flowing well. I soon found myself in the kitchen getting a drink when one of the girls, walked in and asked for my help in pouring the ketchup. I shrugged and proceeded to help her, pouring the ketchup out.

Her eyes grew wide and she said slowly, "You poured it in a puddle."
I stared at the ketchup and said, "Excuse me?"
"You poured the ketchup in a puddle. Who makes a puddle. You are supposed to make neat little dots. Dont you know anything?" Her hand started shaking and her voice grew hysterical as she continued, repeating the same thing over and over again, "its a puddle, its a puddle."

I stared in dismay, who pours ketchup in dots? How do you pour ketchup in dots?

Soon others started filing into the kitchen and shaking their heads at me while trying to calm the girl down. Someone grabbed the plate and hid it from her view and tried to calm her down. She for her part was growing more and more hysterical, "Puddles, puddles" I think her vocabulary had limited itself to just those two words now, "puddles and dots".

"What did you do?" came an angry whisper.

"poured the ketchup," I stammered in reply.

"In PUDDLES?" err how else does one pour ketchup? I suddenly longed for the familiarity of my friends and family who didnt pour ketchup in neat little dots.

I think someone finally took pity on my ashen face as I stared at the drama unfolding before and burst out laughing. That person was mighty scorned at as I believe the group had wanted to extend the drama for a few days more and see me squirm in discomfort.

Turned out it was some sort of initiation proceeding that they had come up with to break the ice. I chuckled nervously that day and left the house in a daze.

Of course the lot of us grew to be close friends, for they had already made me squirm, turn ashen, tremble in fear, pace in nervousness? How much more could they do to me right?

I still hesitate when asked to pour ketchup and the lot of them still laugh at the hesitation and remind me to "Pour in perfect dots and not a puddle."

Somehow puddles, dots and ketchup have left an indelible mark on me and believe me it was a while before i even ate ketchup again.