The Sentimental Idiot !

It is a quiet Thursday night. I have been at home all day, but then, I wanted to stay in. Like most of the other members of our species, after thinking about the many things that I could do such as, taking out the trash, clearing the pile of laundry lying at a visible distance, or doing the dishes that have been in the sink for so long I bet I saw a mini ecosystem developing around it this morning, I finally decide that the best thing for me to do would be watching the good ol’ telly. I have repeatedly seen all 236 episodes of F.R.I.E.N.D.S so many times that I have now reached a point where I have started noticing a lot of things that escaped my attention during my initial viewings of the show. The changing artwork in the coffee house, Chandler Bing’s fluctuating weight, Joey’s different hairstyles, the wooden pole jutting out in the living room supporting the set, actors standing near windows and doors waiting for their cue, and so on and so forth. For the f

“You”. Manish appeared startled when Dr. Mohan pointed at him during morning rounds at the hospital. “Yes, you”. In general, he had a tendency to fumble, and now, with Dr. Mohan’s vision (rumored to have the capacity to pierce through giant icebergs) focused directly on him, I completely sympathized with him for looking lost, confused, and terrified, all at the same time. I also didn’t find fault with him for dropping his pen, for nearly falling on the floor when he stooped down to pick it up and for slamming his head on the patients bed when he straightened himself. Dr. Mohan was a force to reckon with, if being chief of medicine in a busy hospital of the city wasn’t enough, his towering 6’4’’ height and powerful voice was more than the necessary dosage required to surprise, nay, frighten a freshly graduated doctor from medical school. Imagine the same scenario above, but with a lot more people, A LOT MORE! :-) “What is Courvoisier’s law”? “Sir, Um,

What’s in your backpack? How much does your life weigh? Imagine for a second that you’re carrying a backpack. I want you to feel the straps on your shoulders. Feel them? Now I want you to pack it with all the stuff that you have in your life.  You start with the little things, the things on shelves and in drawers, the knickknacks, the collectibles.  Feel the weight as that adds up. Then you start adding the larger stuff: clothes; tabletop appliances; lamps; linens; your TV. The backpack should be getting pretty heavy now and you go bigger: your couch, bed, your kitchen table. Stuff it all in there. Your car, get it in there. Your home, whether it’s a studio apartment or a two-bedroom house. I want you to stuff it all into that backpack. Now try to walk. It’s kind of hard, isn’t it? This is what we do to ourselves on a daily basis. We weigh ourselves down until we can’t even move.  And make no mistake, moving is living. Now, I’m going to

I hate one republic. Wait. I spoke to soon, let me rephrase. I actually love one republic. One moment please, that’s not what I’m getting at, so let me try again. I hate that I love one republic as much as I do. Yes, finally, that’s what I have been trying to say all along. One republic’s music is great. They don’t have a par ticular sound which makes it difficult to confine them to a single genre, the lyrics of their songs are incredible, most of their videos are very interesting and yet I seem to have a problem with the band, why is that? The problem I feel lies in the fact that their songs make you think, they make you want to get up and do something. I have been very honest with the posts on this blog, but the stupid things that I have done after listening to their songs are secrets that I will carry to the grave. Not the grave maybe, but definitely to my deathbed atleast. Alright, alright. I’ll give you one example. The song ‘I lived’ is