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Showing posts from September, 2007

Febrile weakness and aching eyes

Fever, sweat, pain, a melting nose and to add to my misery...crumpled sheet and a dirty disorganised room.

One whole week was spent in this condition. Most of the time i kept myself confined to my room with occasional post-dinner trips to lab. No experiments. Mice dying before i could kill them. Poor trainee calling me at various hours with genuine questions. Absolutely nothing was happening. Just sleep and dream.

The period between two episodes of fever was when i sat reading 'The Kite Runner' by Khaled Hosseini. By the time i reached the middle of the book i felt emotionally exhausted. Never before a book has moved me to this extent. I wept till my eyes ached.

It's a story of two boys who spent their childhood together in pre-taliban Afghanistan. Of their friendship which had different meaning for both of them. Of the caste divide between them. Of blind love and trust of Hassan and of Amir's envy. Of lack of courage to stand for someone who loves you more than anything …

Make me a mouse who...

The current batch of mice is extraordinarily active. Today when the doctor was injecting parasite into them, they were trying their best to loosen the grip and bite the doctor. I asked doc (our favourite vet in the animal house) to be careful so that he doesnt get bitten and turn into a mouse-man (like spiderman) or into a mouse (even worse). He said that no matter what precautions we take now, in our next life all of us will become mice and the mice which we have killed will become researchers. Actually i dont mind that.
If there is something like a 'rebirth' i dont consider myself lucky enough to be reunited with the lovers of my past life/lives. I m ok with the idea of being born as a mouse. But i have only one request. I want to become a mouse who contributes in some way to somebody's experiment. And not one of those who are killed just because there is a suspected infection in the animal house, not achieving anything in their life. That's a waste of life. Picture:…

Kite=My heart; A gust of air=Your breath

"Dil ko bana de jo patang, saanse teri woh hawaaen hain..."
A song from Om Shanti Om.

Trailers of Om Shanti Om are showing these days. I think it will be quite similar to Main Hoon Na, as far as the mood is concerned. I dont expect an intelligent movie but i m sure it will be an entertainer. If nothing else at least SRK's 'wannabe-look-cute' looks will be sufficient to make the audience smile.

Looks like its a story of a rebirth which reunites two lovers. Good! It has been a long time since i saw Milan or Madhumati. Lets wait for the modern version of one of those movies. Farah Khan has even managed to squeeze in a song sequence which has all [but one :-)] the movie stars. I wonder what is that special occasion. Just hope its not a dream sequence (ever heard of 'creativity'?).

Main Hoon Na was apparently Farah Khan's tribute to movies she loves like Sholay, Masoom, Kabhi Kabhi, Golmaal. Wonder whether the latest one is a tribute to all the 'rebirth-d…


My parents can vouch for the fact that as a child i was a quick learner (learning ability gradually declined though). They didnt have any problem in teaching me the first 3 alphabets. In my brother's case it was quite different. Cat (my brother) was an extremely lazy child (thereafter he improved exponentially). Since i can't compare myself to him today, i will stick to the good old days when i was the "padhaku bachcha" and he was the "shaitaan bachcha".

I remember, one of those days when he had just started going to school, my father was sitting with him and trying to make him write "A-B-C" on a slate. First my father drew a big 'A' and asked him to try to copy it. Cat instead of drawing 'A' or anything near to it, just scribbled and said, "This is 'A'". I think this went on for another 10 times (cat was bold enough to try my father's patience). Abbu had already had enough of nonsense. He lifted my brother and…

A prank gone wrong

I have been noticing that these days a wide range of external stimuli ellicit the same response in me. Any small thing reminds me of my childhood. It turns into a chain reaction, with one memory turning the key of another locked-up memory.

Our father being an electronic engineer terms like voltage, resistance, capacitor were commonly used at home. My brother and i used to sit and gaze at our dad while he used to work on some electronic equipment. Many a times he used to ask us to get a specific screw-driver or a line-tester and both of us used to run and get it. A soldering iron used to arouse a lot of curiosity and fright in me. Abbu used to keep it in a corner and gave us strict instructions to stay away from it. I observed that a silver coloured wire (solder) melts when brought in contact with it and emanates a burning smell. I used to love that smell. One day after abbu finished his work i went and touched the soldering iron. It was warm. I guessed it must have been a lot more hott…

Lots of drama...

It was my fourth visit to the International Airport in the last one month. No, i am not on a world tour. This was just to recieve or see off my friends (Eddy, AB, Kate and Beanz). I always carry a book at such occasions so that i dont get bored. But everytime i realize that it's impossible to get bored here. You can get tired but not bored. There's so much action out there.

Firstly, the number of people who come with the purpose of dropping or recieving is at least 3 times the number of people travelling. Secondly, it is they who contribute to the huge ruckus at the gates. The first or the last bit of emotion-display has to happen at the entrance gate itself. And this leads to the "trolley-traffic-jam". I dont know why people (quite sophisticated looking, carrying 'gucci' bags) behave in such uncivilized manner. Indeed money doesn't teach you manners.

A couple and a baby just emerge from the exit gate and a gang of 10 grown-ups rush towards them. The poor b…