DAY DREAMER.....

COPYCAT CAUGHT RED-HANDED !

2012-02-06T15:29:00.000+05:30

The Original : La Betleem colo-n jos by Cleopatra Stratan who sang it when she was only 7 years old for her 2009 Christmas album.She is the highest paid young artist, the youngest artist to receive an MTV award and the youngest artist to score a #1 hit in a country. (Courtesy : Wikipedia)

The Copycat : Teri Meri by Himesh Reshammiya for the 2011 movie Bodyguard. (Caught you, Himesh ! You nose-blower ! Copying a 7 year-old kid's song.)

Listen and compare :-

Cleopatra Stratan - La Betleem colo-n jos.mp3

Teri Meri - Bodyguard.mp3

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The Original : Theme for a Dream by Cliff Richard.

The Copycat : Pal Pal Pal Pal by Shantanu Moitra for the 2006 movie Lage Raho Munnabhai.

Theme for a Dream - Cliff Richard. mp3

Pal Pal Pal - Lage Raho Munnabhai.mp3

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The Original : My Lecon by jtL , a South Korean dance music group.This track is from their 1st album Enter the Dragon (2001).

The Copycat : Bhool Bhulaiya by Pritam for the 2007 movie of the same name.

My Lecon - jTL.mp3

Bhool Bhulaiya.mp3

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The Original : Jauh Mimpiku by PeterPan , an Indonesian pop-rock band.This song was featured in the 2005 Indonesian movie Alexandria.

The Copycat : Bheegi Si Bhaagi Si by Pritam for the 2010 movie Rajneeti.

Jauh Mimpiku - PeterPan.mp3

Bheegi Si - Rajneeti.mp3

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The Original : Tak Bisakah by PeterPan for the 2005 Indonesian movie Alexandria.

The Copycat : Kya Mujhe Pyar Hai by Pritam for the 2006 movie Woh Lamhe.

Tak Bisakah - PeterPan.mp3

Kya Mujhe Pyar Hai - Woh Lamhe.mp3

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The Original : Naluri Lelaki by Samsons , an Indonesian pop-rock band for their 2006 album of the same name.

The Copycat : Hai Junoon by Pritam for the 2009 movie New York.

Naluri Lelaki - Samsons.mp3

Hai Junoon - New York.mp3

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The Original : Sarang Hae Yo by Kim Hyung Sup for the 2005 South Korean television series Delightful Girl.

The Copycat : Pehli Nazar Mein by Pritam for the 2008 movie Race.

Sarang Hae Yo - Kin Hyung Sup.mp3

Pehli Nazar Mein - Race.mp3

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The Original : Chicano composed by Black Blood , an African band in 1975.

The Copycat : Laila O Laila by Biddu for the 1980 movie Qurbaani.

Chicano - Black Blood.mp3

Laila O Laila - Qurbaani.mp3

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The Original : Breeze from Saintes Maries by Jesse Cook , a Canadian guitarist featured in his 1995 album Tempest.

The Copycat : Halka Halka Sa Ye Nasha by Pritam for the 2005 movie Chocolate.

Breeze from Saintes Maries - Jesse Cook.mp3

Halka Halka Sa Ye Nasha - Chocolate.mp3

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The Original : Enta ma Oltesh composed by Amr Diab , a singer-composer from Egypt in 2003.

The Copycat : Dhoom Machaale by Pritam for the 2004 movie Dhoom.

Enta ma Oltesh - Amr Diab

Dhoom Machaale (Title Track).mp3

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The Original : Mahi by Hadiqa Kiyani , a Pakistani pop singer from her 2002 album Rung.

The Copycat : Jaane Kya Chahein by Pritam for the 2006 movie Pyar Ke Side Effects.

Jaane Kya Chaein Mann - Pyar Ke Side Effects.mp3

Mahi - Hadiqa Kiyani.mp3

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The Original : Thoia Thoing by R.Kelly,American R & B artist for his 2003 album The R. in R & B Collection Vol.1

The Copycat : Gila Gila by Himesh Reshammiya for the 2004 movie Aitraaz.

Thoia Thoing - R.Kelly.mp3

Gila Gila - Aitraaz.mp3

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The Original : Ya Ghali by GuiTaRa , a Kuwait-based band.

The Copycat : Ya Ali by Pritam for the 2006 movie Gangster.

Ya Ghali - GuiTaRa.mp3

Ya Ali - Gangster.mp3

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The Original : Tamally Ma'ak by Amr Diab , Amr Diab , a singer-composer from Egypt in 2000.

The Copycat : Kaho Na Kaho by Anu Malik for the 2004 movie Murder.

Tamally Ma'ak - Amr Diab.mp3

Kaho Na Kaho - Murder.mp3

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The Original : Australian Challa by Babbal Rai featuring Aman Hayer.Babbal Rai is an Indian

student studying in Ausralia.He composed this

song and dedicated it to the Indian,Punjabi cab

drivers in Australia.

The Copycat : Challa by Pritam for the 2010 movie Crook.

Australian Challa - Babbal Rai.mp3

Challa - Crook.mp3

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The Original : Ilayanila sung composed by Ilaiyaraja for the 1982 Tamil movie Payanangal Mudivathillai.

The Copycat : Neele Neele Ambar Par composed by Bappi Lahiri for the 1983 movie Kalakar.

Ilaiyanila - Payanangal Mudivathillai.MP3

Neele Neele Ambar Par - Kalakar.mp3

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RUM DIARY : PART III

2012-02-05T13:59:00.001+05:30

Friendsbecome more interesting once they are drunk.What friends,even strangers whofriends bring to the party metamorphose from sitting-shyly-in-one-corner typeto talkative Jack-of-all-trades throwing their gyaan at everyone once they are 3 pegs down.

Thebest location on college campus was the dim-lit Micro terrace (above theMicrobiology Department) with a vast area of free open space.The favorite was theslanting terrace above the Multipurpose Auditorium.The apex of the slantingterrace was the highest point on campus excluding the water tank.We could seethe Noukaghat bridge miles away and also Siliguri town blinking with thousandsof lights at night.What a shame that I put my 1^st step on thatterrace only on the last night of my stay in college.Quite unexpectedactually.I had already given my farewell beer party few days back.But on mylast day my juniors Sylvester , Arnold (Yes , Terminator and Rambo !) and groupthrew another for me.We drank and sang item songs in chorus all night.Thegroup went to the terrace at 4 a.m. and I found used condoms, Neula chaap (Mongoose brand tobacco) khaini satchets , beedi-cigarette packets,etchere and there.

TheMicro terrace was a favorite spot for love-making couples too, especially duringthe annual college fest.One of our juniors had been caught fondling his girl’sdouble melons at that happening spot.It was a usual event but got extra attention because the couple werestill freshers.

Thehostel terrace was a much dangerous adda.Here,marijuana smokers tranced themselves into out-of-the-world experiences in full view of their Godsand Goddesses above.Then there were a different species of drug addictstoo.These guys smeared Dendrite glue all around the insides of a polythene bag , inhaledit like an oxygen-giving mask and passed it around to their gang.

Iwas strolling in the corridor when a friend of mine started mouthing curses – Shoveit up your ass, newbie !! - in American accent at me.He was hallucinating himself asDr.Cox and I was the ever-suffering J.D. of SCRUBS.He had watched a full seasonof SCRUBS that day.I discovered he had just come out of a dim-lit room whereeveryone was inhaling Dendrite, laughing non-stop and shouting either at eachother or at their own hallucinatory enemies , failed loves , college professorsand whosoever.

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WARNING : Don’t expect any warnings here against drug abuse,smoking and alcohol like the censors forced the makers of Agneepath do under the Chikni Chameli song.All the guys I’m talking about here are doctors who know better than most about the harms of indulging in these addictions and yet continue to do so.

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TheMicro terrace was the best place to pee , too.Guys stood in a line on the edgeand brought down their own Niagara Falls all the way below.Beer makes you peelike a horse.There’s also no better place to test your singing talents.

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2 snacks without which our beer parties would not have been so happening :

1 . Smoked mithun meat.(Mithun is the most important domestic animal and the trademark symbol of Arunachal).

2 . Wai-Wai noodles.

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Wehad really crazy seniors whose antics won't let us forget our 1^styear in college.

Motu-Dawas from Along in Arunachal.Everything about him was round - his head, hisbelly, his legs.Whenever I saw him it always made me feel he was a big Humpty-Dumptyballoon filled with alcohol because he was either always drunk or was waitingto get drunk.He looked like he’d definitely burst if someone pierced a needleinto him.

Therewere 4 of us – me , Durik , Sanat , Monah - from the North-East who’dfrequently be summoned to give him a massage.

He’dmake Durik and me press his legs and Monah did the arms.My head would drop fromtime to time when I was sleepy because Motu made us work for hours.I was the lighter one so I wasmade to stand on his back and legs.Standing on his legs was impossible and I’dkeep slipping .They were too round to balance myself.

Toencourage me , he’d praise that I had the most manly face from the North-East.

Onceby mistake , out of boredom and sleepiness I’d pinched his legs during massage.I was demoted to his hands and Monah was promoted to do his legs.Monah gotlots of good reviews and Motu acknowledged that every year it was the guys fromManipur who had the best hands for massage.

WhileI had the manliest face, Durik had the ‘international face’ , according to Motu.Hefurther added that Durik was born by mistake , by accident in India.

Sanatwas the luckiest.Whenever we were summoned by Motu , Sanat,being the creativetype was always busy in the Multipurpose Hall with the college fest decorations.He never got to lay his hands on Motu’s fat-rich cushion set.

Motuhad the filthiest tongue of all.Other seniors used to mock that Motu used tofollow one equally fat Didi like a shadow in 1^st yr but got rejected point blank.After thathe had only foul things to say about her.His drunken soul would cry that she hadsuch huge melons, 2 maids had to balance them on their shoulders likesack-carrying-laborers in order to be able to put them on her bra bags.

Ihad never heard these kind of jokes before in school.No matter how much I waswaiting to erupt,1^st yr guys were not allowed to laugh at jokes infront of seniors unless the Freshers’ day was over.Seniors can never tolerate freshers with happy faces as they want to avenge the humiliation theythemselves suffered in their 1^st year. Motu would dismiss even a normal girl as - ‘Tiny head.Big ass’; to which other seniors would hurl a chorus - Don’t forget you were one of the1^st ones to chase her like a dog everywhere.

Therewas a Naga senior from Manipur who all of us gave the vote of agreement as thewildest senior from the North-East.He had the habit of amplifying the sound ofhis sneezes in the exam hall and lecture theatre to draw everyone’s attention.Healso colored his hair orange once.

Oncehe did an underwear dance after getting too drunk and forced one law studentinvitee (friend of one of the seniors) to do the same after pulling off his pants, after which the underwear lawyer changed from a gentle guest to a rowdygangster .Juniors like me were the unfortunate targets for being the wrongpersons at the wrong place at a wrong time.

Unfortunately(God be damned!) , I was wearing my famous leopard print jaangia that night and it got displayed for everyone to remind themof its jungle beauty.

COPYCAT CAUGHT RED-HANDED !!

2012-02-03T21:55:00.000+05:30

The Original: Stand by Me by Ben E.King (also featured in Rob Reiner's 1986 movie STAND BY ME)

The Copycat : Dildaara 'composed' by Vishal-Shekhar for the 2011 movie Ra.One (Caught you ! Ha Ha Ha !)

Click on the links below , listen here and compare for yourself , folks !!

Ben E. King - Stand By Me .mp3

Dildaara - Ra.One .mp3

TRADITIONAL SPORTS OF THE SINGPHOS

2012-01-23T12:16:00.000+05:30

The people back home mostly from my village liked it because it focussed on our indigenous culture.I got some criticism from college friends though , regarding the video quality.Hmm....even I feel the same.

I have shot the entire video with perhaps the cheapest still camera (not even a video cam ! ) you can ever find. A Kodak model.

But there's no denying the fact that the whole editing process was so, so, so...enjoyable.Made me feel like Steven Spielberg (the cheapest version) what if it was only for 2 days.

10 BEST BOLLYWOOD MOVIES OF 2011

2011-11-23T21:18:00.001+05:30

It would be wrong to call this list complete as there's still over a month left this year.By then, I'm sure movies like Milan Luthria's The Dirty Picture, Farhan Akhtar's Don 2, Bhavna Talwar's Happi and some others may enter the list.

1. Delhi Belly

Director : Abhinay Deo (Game)

2.Saheb Biwi Aur Gangster.

Director : Tigmanshu Dhulia (Haasil,Charas)

3. Shor in the City.
Director : Raj Nidimoru & Krishna D.K.

4.Rockstar

Director : Imtiaz Ali (Socha Na Tha,Jab We Met,Love Aaj Kal)

5. Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara.

Director : Zoya Akhtar (Luck By Chance)

6.I Am Kalam.

Director : Nila Madhab Panda

7.Stanley Ka Dabba

Director : Amol Gupte

8. Dhobi Ghat

Director : Kiran Rao

9. That Girl in Yellow Boots.

Director : Anurag Kashyap (Black Friday, Gulaal, Dev D)

10. No One Killed Jessica

Director : Raj Kumar Gupta (Aamir)

RUM DIARY - Part II

2011-11-14T00:14:00.001+05:30

"When I read about the evils of drinking,I gave up reading."
-Henry Youngman (American comedian)

Bony Face strictly followed a principle in life.No matter how much the quantity,once you buy booze you have to finish it that very day.That principle did him in one day.

It was one day before he was to leave college for Durga Puja vacation.He brought 2 bottles of vodka to my room.Unfortunately I was not feeling well and couldn't give him company for long.He found an enthusiastic partner in No-Ball Ganguly,who's game for anything in life as long as it comes free.He sent me to sleep in his room and he'd sleep in mine as it would take time to empty out the booze.

Morning arrived.

I was sleeping soundly in Bony Face's room when Big Cheek woke me up shouting that Bony Face had vomited whole night.I didn't care.What's new in that? Let him vomit,man.He can vomit as much as he like.It's his mouth after all.I curled up into a ball inside the warm blanket and slept back.

"He's done it all over your bed !!" , Big Cheek emphasised.

I shot up like a rocket and zoomed to my room.There he was, half-dead on my bed, surrounded by rich, creamy khichdi vomit all over.My poor mattress ! I'd bought it less than 3 days back even though I already had one.My luxury of sleeping in a double-layer mattress ended there.

Waking up Bony Face and Big Calf from their hangover is one of the toughest challenges I have faced in college.No matter how much I screamed in his ears or pulled him up by his arms , tickled him,slapped him,he wouldn't wake up.I pulled him up and made him sit but he fell down flat in slow motion.

The vomit was all over his face and clothes,now dried up into smears of hard cake.Hazra,my room-mate was sitting on his bed,facing away from the vomit factory towards the wall and studying with a twitched nose to withstand the stinky room.He kept complaining that he had to wake up at 4 a.m. disturbed by Bony Face's rocking vomit music.

"Couldn't sleep a wink after that !" , he continued.

Bony Face's eyes were peculiar in that even when he was in deep sleep, his eye-lids were always a little open, a medical condition known as lagophthalmos.We constantly teased him that it was such an advantage as whenever a thief tried to rob him, the nervous thief would fear that his prey is still awake.

An idea struck me and I could feel a bulb glowing somewhere.I filled a Pepsi bottle with water and poured it over his half-open eyes and he woke up instantly,cursing that I was the cruelest man alive.

Everyone who saw him must've thought he'd buried his head in a pot of khichdi last night.We thought he'd wash his face and freshen up.Instead he went straight to his bed and fell flat and went on sleeping, serving the khichdi to his bed,too.

My poor mattress was decorated with huge,ugly islands of vomit.I had to abandon it and snatched Bony Face's mattress after he woke up.He revealed that he had to finish the 2nd bottle alone as No-Ball Ganguly surrendered after completing the 1st one.God knows how he boarded the bus for home that afternoon considering how half-dead he was.But the fact is that he did reach home.

He used a blanket as his mattress after that for many years even though he had lots of time to buy a new one.But life comes back to a full circle, as they say. When I left college,the mattress I took finally came back to him, even though it had by now become paper-thin with lumps of cotton remaining only in some areas.

RUM DIARY

2011-11-11T20:21:00.001+05:30

"Beer is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy."

-Benjamin Franklin

College life introduced me to alcohol.Before that,I had the opinion that doctors rarely smoke or drink.I discovered a medical college is not much different compared to the outside world.They are human after all.

We advice the patients to strictly stop drinking booze in the day and later have a beer party at hostel challenging each other,

"What !! Till now only 2 bottles down ? Shame !! Shame !!"

Our booze gang was often made up of the following friends :-

1. Me

2. Big Cheek

3. Big Calf

4. Dwarf.One (Since its the season of Ra.One)

5. Holy.One

6. Bony Face

Dwarf.One and Big Cheek were veterans while me,Big Calf and Bony Face invited the holy liquid into our veins and arteries only in college.

Holy.One never let a drop touch his sacred lips saying its against his religion.Still we invited him for snacks and coke.I don't know though what was so holy about his enviable porn collection.He had good connections with all the porn addicts in hostel.He had a wikipediac knowledge about who kept what type of porn with them.Holy collection !!

Big Calf was our junior so it was always he who had to get the drinks.At campus,we had Dilip Da's pan shop to supply us.He hid beer bottles behind rows of litchi juice and nimbu paani in his fridge because he sold booze without licence.But mostly we got them from Oasis Bar in Durga Mandir or a wine store in Shiv Mandir.(They are names of towns not temples dedicated to Lord Shiva or Goddess Durga).It was cheaper there.

The veterans,Big Cheek and Dwarf.One were always restrained no matter how drunk.They had acquired a Zen-like calmness after years of drinking and could control themselves from blurting out their numerous secrets even when fully drunk.

Big Calf and Bony Face took the shortest breaks between their sips and got high the earliest.Especially Big Calf,who'd drop bottles randomly and lie down shirtless on the naked cement floor without any care in the world.Mostly he'd snatch the guitar from Bony Face and sing English songs none of us ever heard before.

I was the one who made fun of Big Calf the most and scream at a decibel 10 times louder than necessary to reach everyone's ears,pleading before them to stop the guitarist-cum-singer's bleeding voice.

Never to give up,Big Calf would transform into a belly dancer after that,thrusting his heavy ass at everyone's face for not supporting his music talent.

Bony Face was no better.He'd torture us with half-an-hour long solo leads of 'Hotel California' , 'Temple of the King' and what not;and also make us listen to COB's (Children of Bodom) heavy metal numbers.He made me listen for 1 whole year arguing I'd develop a taste for it with every hearing.I'd mock his favorite band as ,

"I don't want to hear COBra-COBra songs anymore", to which he'd get offended and counter-attacked by informing everyone how I'd composed 2 songs in 1st year after my break-up.

Everytime we had a beer party,the group loved listening to my break-up story and making fun of it.I had no idea how depressed a break-up can leave you.As long as everything's normal,you feel its going to last forever no matter what.Its a very uplifting feeling though if you convert your sadness into anger ; gives you so much energy,so much satisfaction.It made me write 2 songs , "Broken Heart" (when I was sad) and later, "Woh Kameeni ! " (after I converted my sadness into anger ).

I and Bony Face try to relive the old days but we can't go further than the 1st line of these songs now.Just can't stop laughing our asses off when we begin,even though I used to scream these same lines to the peak of my vocal frequency years ago.

**************************************

An inspiration for the gang : The Hangover

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There were lots of guys who'd crash the party to borrow cigarettes and leave after taking a sip from everyone.

There was a Bengali senior whom Dwarf.One always made fun of but earned everyone's sympathy because he had been dumped countless times by countless girls for countless number of years.If he had resources he would drink every single day, he claimed.

Once Dwarf.One mixed water in an empty rum bottle and donated him.Of course it still smelled of rum.He was mad with delight.After a few sips, he delivered his thank-you speech,

"Dude,this one is really good.Just 2 sips and its already hitting me !"

And he left the room walking with an awkward gait , so proud of getting drunk.

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Big Calf and Bony Face , once drunk , they could sleep anywhere in the world.On the cement floor during winters .Bare-bodied on the chair during mosquito-infested summers.

Once when Big Calf was asleep, I and Bony Face drew whatever we wished with a permanent marker on his face , letting our creativity run amok,uninhibited. Bony Face also drew fake eyes on his face.They looked so real it was actually scary.

***************************************

HOSTEL FOOD FESTIVAL !!

2011-05-30T14:01:00.000+05:30

Food Festival,

KFS,Alubari (Chongkham).

Hostel food was disgustingly pathetic at Chongkham.Many of us called the meals we were given as 'pig food' (gahori daana in Assamese).While some others rated it even worse than that.

Breakfasts were meant to be light.But in KFS,they went further,making it super light.Just one serving. And the glass was filled 1/4 th with watery tea with invisible milk and lots of sugar.Most of the time we poured it over the table and mourned,

"See ! Its transparent ! Its just sweet water.Where's the milk?"

The 1st day we came to Alubari,we used to admire the foreign breed cows which were housed across the vegetable garden.Huge , impressive size with

foreign looks.But later,we realised they were good-for-nothing bastards , eating all day , surrounded by fans , not moving an inch and yet no one could squeeze enough milk from their ****.

******************************************

Pumpkin , yam (kochu) , brinjal , water gourd - These were the enemy no. 1 , 2 , 3 , 4 , for us. The mere sight of them made our blood boil.

It was like they show on movie channels ...'The Big B film festival'.Non-stop Bachchan movies day after day for a week or more.

Here,once a tasteless pumpkin curry gets started on our plates,the pumpkin festival continues on for a week or two.If its yam , then yam , yam, yam , yam,.......... . Sometimes soyabean balls (Neutrella).

The teachers always tried to make us adapt to it by explaining their benefits so colorfully ,

"Its good that yam is so slippery.You don't have to put so much effort in the morning when you are in the bathroom."

All I wanted to say was ,

"Yeah , right ,but we've to put a super-human effort pushing them down our throats."

*************************************************

In winters,we had cabbage and cauliflowers mostly which were good.The Alubari soil was really fertile and the cabbages attained enviable sizes.Our secretary Ma'm regularly got 1st Prize during the Vegetable Competition on Republic and Independence Day.

While playing football,when the ball landed on the cabbage garden ,guys would punch and destroy the big,healthy cabbages while picking up the ball.Just because there were plenty of them.

All these were of course before the unfortunate flood of the mid-2000s after which the whole of Alubari was covered with sands everywhere.

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We used to regularly buy pickles and ghee (Aneek ghee) to spice up our meals , and also have biscuit,dalmoth,bhujia parties.There was only 1 shop nearby (Doorvijay,the Marwari) , which was a grocery store and the only biscuits we got were Parle-G and Tiger.We could finish off 1 whole packet in 5 mins flat.

We got meat on Sundays.The ones who reached the dining hall early would scout for plates with the bigger pieces and exchange them.And the ones who were absent because of illness,his plate was always up for grabs by eagerly waiting vultures.

"Are you sure he's not coming?" , the vulture would enquire with everyone.

If its YES,then it was the vulture's lucky day.If NO,even then he'd be enquiring a 1000 times ,

"Are you sure he's coming?"

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One day,fed up of having the same monotonous food so often,the guys at our table shouted curses at the Hostel Warden & upturned their plates & spilled the water glasses.Mine & some others' plates were normal.Makyon did the favor of upturning all the remaining plates.All of us stormed out of the hall.

"We'll die starving but we wont eat pig food !", many of us could be heard shouting.

The teachers were informed when they entered the hall to have breakfast.LBJ Sir (Bogus) came outside hostel & politely made us understand we shouldn't have done what we did & asked us to tell our problems to the teachers.

On seeing Bogus,some of the guys banged the bathroom doors very hard so that he may know the noise is an expression of our frustration.And the noise felt so musical then.

We went back to the hall.

TKR Sir (Gorilla) was the Principal at that time.He bluntly said we shouldn't expect 5-star food when so many parents were yet to pay their fees.

Man Singh (AKC Sir) had already started his meal.He told us why should we complain when even the teachers were having the same curry as the students.I glanced at the teachers' table.Yeah,the curry (same old pumpkin) was the same but there were poories , not rice.

All I wanted to say was ,

"Yeah,you hypocrite ! You're having pumpkin curry with oily poories while we're having them with smelly,outdated rice which are supplied by the Govt. cooperative godowns.

Yeah,keep chomping the poorie,hypocrite."

I dont remember clearly where our discussion with Gorilla and his gang ended , but I do clearly remember that we had to pick up all the upturned plates and glasses and wipe the table.

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STING OPERATION !!

2011-03-30T13:35:00.000+05:30

Place : K.F. school
Year : Sometime between 2001-2003.I don't remember exactly.

I was woken up in the morning by Nyali's shouts,"Hot news ! Hot news !"

He was informing everyone excitedly about the previous night's adventure.Some sort of a sting operation.The victim was Abdulla Sir (name changed for privacy.Hee ! Hee !)

Abdulla Sir was harmless to the seniors but had a never-tiring talent to pick on and irritate the juniors for the tiniest of reasons.He always tortured the juniors with a wicked grin.When we were juniors,he used to beat us for not taking a bath everyday.The next day everyone bathed.Itching to beat us,he announced,
"Anyone who has not polished their shoes,come one by one."

He once caught one of us eating biscuits during study hours,seized the eatables,kept them on the teachers' table and had some himself,mocking everyone in the class,
"God,these really are tasty ! Mmm.....wow ! My stomach wants more of these !"

It was rumoured that he was having an affair with one of our ayahs.That he entered our hostel at late nights and slipped into the ayah's bed.I just couldn't digest it at all.All the ayahs slept together joining 3-4 beds and there were over 80 boys in the dorm.How could he escape detection unless he had mastered the art of being invisible?

He was also rumoured to have 2 wives,one in Allahabad,the other in Shillong.

I accompanied one of my mates to Abdulla's office when he was absent and found a rich collection of cheap porn magazines with black-and-white photos in his table drawer.

Horny Abdulla's happiest day came.A separate hostel was allotted for the juniors and his muse was the only ayah there.It became easier for him to have his flesh delights.

The seniors decided one night to catch him red-handed just for the heck of it.Just for fun because there was no other source of entertainment at our boring school - no movies,no T.V.(rarely),no outings.That night some seniors were peeking out of the dorm window waiting like an eagle to pounce on its prey.Poor Abdulla was walking merrily into the hostel expecting a dreamy,dreamy,heavenly night unaware what was in store for him.

"Let's go now,soldiers !" , shouted one.

"Let's beat the hell out of him! , howled another.

"Wait ! I'll bring my camera !"

There was no plan at all.Everyone just went,surrounded the hostel;some psycho ones carried sticks,some stones.The chosen ones entered the hostel,located the bed,pulled the mosquito net up,wildly flung open the blanket and there he was ,with his leg over the ayah,shirt half-buttoned (must've heard the boys approaching or else he may have been naked) and face shocked with fright ,eyes gorging out.The camera flash blinked like lightning over the dark room.

Within seconds everyone left.Just like that.

Life was better the next day onwards.Abdulla Sir became a meek rabbit while the boys grew bolder.When Sir walked on the road,even juniors mocked him from the 1st floor dorm window.

"Oi ! Bheh ! Bheh !" (Bheh being the short for Bhains or buffalo).Before he could turn his head up,the callers disappeared.Only to taunt him again when he walked.

The boys later regretted doing what they did.There were worse teachers than him.It was his personal life and no one had the right to judge.

The photos didn't come out well.Apparently,the camera-man was more interested in the flashes than the object he should've focussed.

BANANA FRY IN A TUNNEL

2011-03-05T09:44:00.000+05:30

YEAR : 1998
PLACE : K.F. school,Chongkham.

There was a fishery next to our hostel at Chongkham.

During the peak season,we could see from our 1st floor window,hundreds of fishes dancing on the surface.Lining the fishery from all sides were banana trees.There was a big tunnel bordering the north of the fishery.It was covered with creepers making it look like a long room with a roof.The tunnel was our kitchen.

We used to crawl through long grasses like John Rambo into the tunnel.We had an abandoned bowl as our cooking pot.No mustard oil.We used Parachute coconut hair oil to fry raw bananas.The creepers over the tunnel somewhat neutralised the smoke we generated by burning dry branches and small plywood pieces.

We stored the rest of the bananas.One of us would throw down from the 1st floor window a long rope we made by tying together our 'school tie',pull the bananas up,separate them into small clusters and spread them all over the plywood ceiling till they turned ripe.

The ceiling was also a safe centre for booze and smoking because teachers
never doubted it.What doubt,they couldn't even imagine it.

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There was so much fish,we could catch them even with a fishing rod made from a 2 feet long branch,a string and a hook (supplied by our day-scholar classmate).At night the fish was put over the kerosene lantern that burned through the night.

By morning,that fish turned into perfectly smoked fish.With salt and dry chilly powder stolen from the school kitchen,we manufactured tasty,hostel-made fish chutney.

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We had 2 boys on both sides of the fishery as 'informers' (or CID,as was called those days),who'd signal us in the tunnel with a double clap signal.Not good at crawling,I was mostly stationed as an 'informer',clapping whenever danger (hostel warden,teacher,etc) approached.

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Of course our dreams grew bigger.Fed up of fried bananas,we wanted something tastier.We stole 'chana' from the kitchen.We begged for mustard oil claiming it would be used for massage after a lot of us had injured legs from playing football.

Everyone was excited now.But on the ill-fated day,one of the ayahs drying clothes near the fishery saw one of us crawling through the grass and informed the teachers.And all of our kitchen-ware got seized.And our poor'chana fry' was left alone,abandoned,half-cooked.

We shouldn't have been too ambitious.

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A HAILSTORM !

2011-02-20T13:00:00.000+05:30

18th Feb,2011.
It was a boring afternoon in Grandpa's house in Wakhet-Na village.All of a sudden,it started raining hailstones from nowhere.Saw an unlucky cow who was bombarded with ice missiles running here and there in panic.Didn't feel sorry for her at all.She was eating Auntie's flowers.

NAXALBARI DAYS

2011-02-10T09:42:00.000+05:30

Just spent a week going to Naxalbari Rural Hospital for our rural service duty.

I go with batchmate Sukhen in the morning on auto (a red Tata Magix) or bus.We've to reach by 10 am but we're always late by 45 mins or an hour.All because of the drivers' large-heartedness.He just can't say 'NO' to any passenger,no matter how crowded.But I enjoyed being squashed in the jam-packed van in these times of extreme cold.

Sometimes it takes an hour to reach there.

Father called to tell me to be careful in such a dangerous place.But Naxalbari is peaceful now unlike in the late 60s when it was the cradle of a radical left-wing revolution (It gave birth to the term 'Naxal' or 'Naxalite'.).Innocent people including children were killed in a police firing.A memorial has been erected on that ill-fated place along with the busts of Lenin,Stalin,Mao Zedong and Charu Majumdar.

Compared to our college,the no of patients visiting the OPD in Naxalbari were sparse.And most of them were only for simple ailments like cough & cold,headache,diarrhoea & unbelievably lots of cases of animal-attack victims (dog-bite,bull attack).

On the 1st day,I prescribed lots of drugs from private drug companies.But most of the villagers were poor & would complain that they couldn't afford to buy them.The next day onwards,I prescribed drugs which were available in hospital supply for free.In fact,I was quite astonished there were lots of fantastic drugs,even cough syrups & amlodipine tablets (for high BP),all available for free.

We prescribe anti-biotic syrups instead of tablets or capsules for small kids & the hospital does not have those,except tablets.A poor mother refused to buy the syrup from the pharmacy & instead said I should prescribe tablets & she'd crush them & mix it in water for her children.

After 1:30 pm,its Emergency Ward duty.Boring.Patients,mostly road accident victims come once a while.Otherwise,the nurse is busy watching Bangla serials on the T.V. I keep going to the tea-stall for tea or listen to songs or periodically request the Sister to change channels for the India v/s South Africa ODI score.

One evening,an elderly man refused to leave the room even though I'd finished with his check-up and prescription.He had only 5 rupees in his pocket & enquired if that was sufficient to buy medicines.The Medical Officer persuaded him to leave.

"Daaktaar Babu ! I have another problem.I sleep toooo much these days.Toooo much."

"Then that's good.What,you want to stay awake whole night ?",the M.O. retorted & we both laughed.

"No Daaktaar,I sleep toooo much,I sometimes begin to doubt whether I'm dead or alive!"

Looking at his face,he seemed very serious.

MISSING PATIENT

2010-12-19T17:59:00.000+05:30

The Obstretrics Ward is over-crowded.2 mothers occupy a single bed sometimes.Plus their babies.It's difficult to find your patients.There's no 'bed no' to look for.Just roam around the whole ward shouting the names from a list.

There was one patient I couldn't find.I had been shouting her name for more than half an hour.I found everyone except her.I was angry with frustration.The moment I find her,I'll let out all my anger,I thought.

And there she was at last,sitting peacefully on her bed,with a big plaster on her forehead.On it was written her name and in big,bold letters - DEAF AND DUMB.

LABOUR NIGHTMARE

2010-12-19T17:38:00.000+05:30

A bad night in the Labour Room is the worst kind of nightmare.I've hardly slept in any of my night duties.You can't predict when a mother's going to deliver a baby.

It was my 3rd night duty.That night lots of serious patients came out of nowhere at odd hours.They had been referred here from far-off hospitals.Normal delivery not possible for them.Only option - a Caesarian delivery.And I had to assist in the OT upto 2 am at night.

But turns out the night was not over yet.Another patient came and we rushed to the OT at 4:30 am yet again.When others have night duty,they have only 1-2 Caesarians throughout the 24 hours.I always get the maximum bad luck.I've assisted in 20 Caesarians in 1 month.

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The nurse told me to rush to a mother about to deliver.By the time I reached,the baby was already out,lying in a pool of blood,amniotic fluid and feces.Some mothers put so much force while pushing,it's inevitable they shit out,too.Perfectly normal.

I had not even finished cutting the umbilical cord,one more baby popped out 2 beds away.

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There was a teenage first-time mother who was not aware how and when to apply the maximum 'push'.She had exhausted herself trying to push out the baby for hours that by the time the baby's head was out,she became unconscious.I had to shout like mad and shake her violently to wake her up and order her to resume 'pushing'.

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THIS IS INDIA,DUDE !!

2010-09-25T22:49:00.000+05:30

It's been 10 days since I joined the Pediatrics Ward.It's complete chaos.Very haphazard.

In Surgery Ward,the no of patient's beds were distributed neatly among the different intern doctors.Like I was in charge of patients in bed no. 1-20 while another took care of 21-40.
Not so in Pedia.
On my 1st day there,I felt like I was in some refugee camp.About 40 beds.But over 80 child patients.Plus their mothers.

No place to walk as for those patients who dont get an empty bed,they're provided mattresses which are strewn all around the floor space available.In fact,mattresses crawl outside the ward if no more space is available.After all,it's a Govt. hospital and no patient can be turned away.

Patients are unaware that I can take care of only those patients who're distributed under me that day.Seeing a stetho around my neck,all patients come to me whenever I enter the ward.

On my 1st day I had evening duty (2pm-10pm).Not a moments rest.I put Ryle's tube into babies' noses,inserted JELCO (i.v. cannula) into tiny,tiny veins of dozens of babies,drew blood from veins continously because it was a really bad luck day and patients kept coming non-stop till late at night.

And damn the Almighty for gifting children such small,invisible veins.Babies keep crying,parents keep complaining but we have to find the vein at any cost and insert needles into it.

It was so much easier in Surgery Ward.
Adult people.
Nice,juicy,fat adult veins.

BOOZE USE

2010-09-07T21:24:00.000+05:30

Received an unlikely e-mail from an American,Cate Newton.

She found it interesting that in Arunachal,the more bottles of booze a politician can offer,the more are his chances of winning the elections.

I'm posting a link here of an infographic from her site about some interesting facts about alcohol use.(Guys,do I use the word 'interesting' once too often?)

http://www.phlebotomist.net/visualizing-alcohol-use

LOVE POEM

2010-09-04T13:09:00.000+05:30

"As long as there are potatoes in samosa,
I will be yours,O my Shaalu !"

Where did I get this love poem?

It's part of a Hindi song from the Akshay Kumar-Juhi Chawla starrer "Mr & Mrs Khiladi".

The original version goes as follows:-

"Jab tak rahega samosay mein aalu,
Tera rahunga,O meri Shaalu !"

LOSS OF CULTURE,LOSS OF IDENTITY

2010-04-22T11:48:00.000+05:30

Few may have known that India has recently won a World Cup.

A kabaddi World Cup.

India beat Pakistan in the final to win the 1 crore prize money at the Guru Nanak Stadium,Amritsar.

This is no cricket where the Man of the Series gets a car or a bike.

Here we have "Best Stopper" and "Best Raider".So what do they get?

A tractor each.(And both the winners are Punjabis)

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Years ago,I bought 2 lottery tickets organised by a Tangkhul Naga society in Siliguri,through my Naga senior,K.Soreingam.

1st Prize - Pork head

2nd Prize - Pork leg

3rd,4th,other prizes - Less interesting prizes like electronic items,etc.

Also there was a free lunch on the day of the draw.

Special item - Dog meat curry.

(To prove that I'm a feminist,not a male chauvinist,I'd like to add that not just dogs but a few bitches were slaughtered,too.)

Not tasted dog(plus bitch) meat yet.

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A BRIEF HISTORY OF SCHOOL PUNISHMENTS

2009-11-24T18:58:00.000+05:30

Here is a list of punishments which made life at Kids' Foundation School,Chongkham so memorable.
1).Stick-beating on palm & back of palm - Most common & most universal.Practiced everywhere.

2).Stick-beating on buttocks - Ahmed Sir & Rai Sir sometimes used broken wooden posts from beds to beat us.

Actually there were different types of sticks.Mr.A.B. Wahlang used bamboo sticks which he took days to make.Then he'd polish the sticks with mustard oil & dry them in the sun.That enhanced the strength of the sticks,we believed then.
Johar Sir used branches of trees to beat us.

3).Motor-cycle - Those unable to answer questions or complete their home-work were made to sit on an invisible bike for 1 hour.(Invented by Mr.T. Wahlang.)

4).Upside down on your hands with body leaning on the wall - Mr.T.Wahlang again,the master of innovative punishments and the most violent stick-beater.Feared by all.

5).Head under the table on standing legs - By Krishna Mohan Jha.
Ironically Sir didn't punish us for not completing our home-work.Sir had ordered every student on that lazy afternoon to stand near him one by one and entertain him to a song.Anyone who couldn't - "Head under table!"

6).To stand with legs apart and Sir beats with a stick to-and-fro (left-right-left) between the legs.

7).Pillai Sir was a self-proclaimed Gandhian.His way of punishing non-violently was to make a student stand outside in the hot sun for long hours.

8).Standing on 1 leg with both hands raised.

9).Stand still for 1 hour with hands on hips (Superman/Shaktiman style).
Invented by S.K.D. Sir (Computer Science teacher),the most harmless-looking teacher I ever knew.
Two boys had woken him up while he was in his peaceful sleep,requesting him to let them play computer games.And they had to do this.

10).Putting a piece of chalk between 2 fingers and then pressing both the fingers against each other.Damn painful !

11).Slap - Very,very rare.Rarely saw it practiced at school.

12).Wringing of ears.

13).Holding one's ears and sitting-standing up and down.
Advanced version - (a).If there are 2 students,to hold partner's ears while partner holds your ear.Both sit-stand,up-and-down simultaneously.
(b).If there are 3 students,each student to hold one ear each of the other 2 students and do up-and-down simultaneously.

F**K OUR ARUNACHAL MINISTERS

2009-10-28T21:17:00.000+05:30

So what if the Congress has just won the Arunachal elections yet again?Will the elected govt. make a positive difference to the people?Hell NO.Shit NO.Big elephant shit NO.Still bigger dinosaur shit NO.

The other day,I read in The Statesman that of the 150-odd candidates contesting in the recent Arunachal elections,63 were Crorepatis.The only way most become Crorepatis in our State is by using the Central funds allocated to the State for one's personal gain.It also reported that 90% of the funds went to ministers & only 10% were actually utilized for the public.

In a State where there are no proper industries & where agriculture is the predominant occupation,there's no way it can have so many Crorepatis.

I've wanted to search the perfect term for our non-hardworking,stupid ministers.Only one term comes to mind - Fucking Ass-holes!!

In our State,anyone can win an election.He just has to distribute more alcohol,more pocket money,more gifts (read:motorbikes,TVs,DVD players,...etc etc) and arrange bigger feasts than his rival candidates and the victory is his/hers.No wonder our villages are still in the 19th century even though we have a meagre population (only about 11 lakhs) and have been blessed with surplus natural resourses & thousands of crores of funds every year.

Nothing will change as long as all the funds keep going into the scrotums of all those FUCKING,IMPOTENT ASS-HOLES!!!

DREAM GIRL

2009-09-17T18:12:00.000+05:30

These days my dream-girl is Sonam Kapoor.Katrina is old stuff.Friends had banned me from watching Saawariya when it released.But you can't judge a movie without watching it.So, I saw it & ended falling in love with Sonam.I start having weak knees especially when I hear her voice.

But the other day,I saw her interview on T.V. & found she keeps laughing aloud frequently after every sentence.

INDIAN IDOL

2009-09-12T11:09:00.000+05:30

Turning the clock backwards,I can't imagine I was so wild in my 1st year at college.I'd never had a girl-friend before & watching so many couples roaming around the campus everyday definitely made me desire for one.

Now I used to fancy one girl-Zaibun ("Just call me Zeba.").She was fair,had light brown eyes & was a Muslim from Kolkata.Especially liked her silky hair.During lectures & practicals,my eyes constantly yearned for her.

The annual college fest PLASMA was approaching.One day after the end of lecture,everyone came out of the hall & I had the impulsive courage to go to her & request nervously,"Will you sing a song with me in PLASMA?"
She said she was not good at singing and that she could sing only in Antakshiris.But I kept persisting throughout the day & at last she agreed to give it a try.

At hostel,I used to choose songs & write 2 copies of lyrics,one for her,one for me.I intentionally chose only romantic songs.After a lot of trial-and-error,we decided to sing "Agar Main Kahoon..." from Lakshya.

We used to practise every evening alone in an empty passage beside the statue of Sushruta erected in the Administrative Block of NBMC.Oh!Those were the days!I used to wait eagerly after the practicals for our evening rehearsals.I used to see her off to her hostel after practice.

Once I revealed to her that seniors called her 'Ghariyal' (crocodile) because of her slightly broken tooth.She took offence & explained that was because of a scooty accident she had in Aligarh.

Everything was going smoothly till that fuck-face asshole Mr.X arrived.He'd repeatedly come with a guitar & force everyone to listen to his songs & start flirting with Zeba.I used to pray to God that someone please throw this fucker out of here & leave us alone.I had the intense desire to bury his head into the guitar hole & roll him down the stairs.

At hostel I reminded him that he already has a girl-friend & so he should leave me alone.But the bloody swine would never listen.What irritated me more was the fact that he should behave this way inspite of having studied together at school.

When Zeba sang,her voice was out of the world!Horrible.No rhythm.No tune.If a song is a Mercedes ride through American highways,than her song is like riding a camel through a desert.But I tolerated.Even encouraged her that with practice,everything can be fine-tuned.

Another problem.There were 2 song competitions-Solo & Group.We registered for Group but according to rules,a Group should contain a minimum of 3 participants.Still,I told the organisers (our seniors) that we only wanted to sing,win or lose I don't care & that if we were not allowed to participate,we should at least be allowed to sing our song as a 'Special Performance' between programmes.We were allowed to participate.

D-Day arrived.We performed.No one could believe their ears that anyone could sing that bad,though friends were generous about my voice.It was then that I realised how bad her singing really was.

Till this day,my class-mates tease me about this incident.But I rather enjoyed riding a camel through a desert more than a Mercedes ride through American highways.

HOW TO MEASURE CHEST CIRCUMFERENCE?

2009-04-18T19:39:00.000+05:30

Till date,I haven't seen a professor in my college who's normal.God seems to have infused in each one of them a certain peculiarity that entertains the students much more than their boring lectures.

Dr.X was taking our Pediatrics class the other day.He has a peculiar face that would be in great demand for portrait painters.Pointed crooked nose,full-moon forehead,gaped-teeth.Has a never-dying habit of asking questions to every student in class.As usual,I was sitting in the last row.Unable to answer his question (rarely anyone does!) , I was ordered to sit on the empty front row.

"What is the weight of an ovum?" , he asked.

Rubal,better known as 'Dean' because anything he says,he says it with confidence & authority,stood up & answered ,"Sir,8 gram."

"8 gram! Ovum is that BIG!" Sir quickly retorted , "What is the weight of your testicles?"
The whole class displayed a muffled laughter.Girls,confused how to react,looked at each other.Why this question? Maybe Sir was angry at Rubal's answer.Maybe,he wanted to tell us that '8 gm' was actually the weight of our testicles.

"How will you measure the chest circumference of a child?"

"By measuring at the level of nipples,Sir," one of the boys answered.Correct answer.A measuring tape is put around the chest at the level of the 2 nipples.But Sir is Sir.He'd be satisfied only if the answer was word-to-word exactly as he had taught it.

"What nipple? One nipple? Two nipples? Three nipples? Suppose the patient has 3 nipples,then where will you put the measuring tape?",thundered Mr.X.

God,how can someone possibly answer such type of questions?

THE OPIUM DEN

2009-04-02T17:56:00.000+05:30

Grandpa's wood-and-cement house at Wakhet Na has an attached bamboo house where the villagers smoke opium throughout the night.Every single night.My uncle is one of them.

There's a fire in the middle and all the opium-smokers or kaniyas as they're popularly called, sit around it smoking,drinking black tea and chattering & nattering non-stop.They talk about the boils in their buttocks with the same fascination they talk about the Taliban and the NSCN.

Opium addiction is destroying Singpho society.The villagers proudly look at it as a part of their culture.Culture,my foot! Culture,my ass!

One of the reasons behind its popularity is the easy,monotonous life of a Singpho villager.Most of the Singphos have been endowed with acres of anchestral land.They need no jobs for income because they earn enough from leasing their land to prospective land-users for a period of 10,20 or even 30 years.Easy income & sitting idle at home turns them to opium.

One of my uncles was a fearless hunter who could tame wild elephants in his youth.Years of opium abuse has turned him into a weak,lethargic man with fire-tanned skin & atrophic,wasted muscles.

I & my cousin often go to the opium room (kani hkawk in Singpho),where the kaniyas,in their opium-impregnated semi-conscious minds indulge in their own fantasy world of gossip where the real freely mingle with the unreal.

One day,they were talking about that great earthquake of the 1950's that shook both Assam & Arunachal.The earthquake destroyed Sadiya,a blooming,prosperous town in Assam.They said Sadiya was a commercial hub next only to Guwahati at that time in the region.

One of the kaniyas seeped in to claim he was a survivor of the earthquake.The ground shook like a 'hanging bridge',he claimed.He saw a gigantic 'bear' rolling down a nearby hill.He held on to a betel-nut tree for about an hour to save his life.(Liar!Earthquakes never last that long!)

The 'Bhool Bhulaiya' track was playing on someone's cell-phone in the opium room one day when Uncle,unaware it was the current hit on Indian charts shouted, "Stop this Hare Krishna Hare Ram bhajan!!"

Constipation is one of the side-effects of prolonged opium abuse.But it's users prefer constipated bowels over a constipated,idle life.

A SUMO RIDE

2009-03-12T18:47:00.000+05:30

Tata Sumos as a means of public transport has been a recent phenomenon in my part of Arunachal.Earlier,villagers clambered their way to any Govt. trucks that came by. O.I.L. trucks,B.R.O. trucks,...etc.Villagers believe that Govt. property is everyone's property.These days a Sumo carries passengers everywhere.

The Sumo driver stuffs his vehicle with passengers beyond limit,as I found out during one such trip.I was travelling with 11 folks inside.Full capacity.And yet,the driver obliged more & more.At last count,there were 15 persons in all.So tight,my balls were squeezed between 2 thighs.
You know:-
closer the crowd------------------->more the heat
more heat-------------------------->more sweat
more sweat------------------------->more itching
more itching------------------------>more scratching.
My lower back began to itch & was begging to get scratched.But alas! my hands were stuck & plastered somewhere & refused to move.

So tight,half of the driver's head,his right shoulders,....etc,etc. & one-third of his buttocks were outside the car,pushed by the passengers on his left (No doors,except backdoor on the car).Both his hands on the steering wheel on one side,his head far to the right,away from the steering control.

And the Sumo went on & on.

Still,the Sumo stopped to pick 1 more.Not by driver's wish this time but the new passenger's stubborn force.The driver begged the new passenger that there was not an inch of space left but the new man rubbished him,saying everything was possible.He was a typical villager,wearing a local lungi,carrying a 'dao' & straps of bicycle tube rubber around his shoulder.Typical,stubborn,eccentric villager.

He took out the rubber strap,tied it over the carrier on the Sumo's roof & wrapped the free ends around both his hands.He stood on the Sumo's door. "Now,let's go!",he ordered the driver.

With the fellow's body dangling outside & only the rubber strap and his feet in contact with the car,the Sumo went on & on crossing jungles,paddy fields & numerous noisy,rickety bailey bridges over Arunachal's countless rivers,streams & rivulets.

ELEPHANTS FART,TOO !

2009-02-28T18:57:00.000+05:30

One of the best things I did this vacation was ride Grandpa's elephant in Wakhet Na.I sat behind the mahout.
Riding an elephant is way more comfortable than a horse.I still remember the torture my bums & buttocks had to endure during that horse-ride in Mirik (Darjeeling) around the lake.How do cowboys endure those galloping horses their whole lives,man?
One of the unique wonders of the world is when an elephant farts.The mahout was splashing water over Grandpa's giant pet when it started farting "BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR..............(it went on & on & on)........followed by ......Thup.......Thup.......Thup........Thup........(till the 'Thup' decreased in volume gradually with every passing second & finally stopped).I waited & waited for it to stop.That big,black ass!Farts are the unsolved mysteries of the world.How is it that every person has a distinct fart sound of his/'her' own (just like fingerprints) ?
Some farts sound 'sad', some 'triumphant', some 'roar', some 'whistle',some end in 1 second,some continue for 10 seconds,and so on.
Have to stop now,guys+gals.It is so complex a mystery,it's better to let it happen as it's happening than to try to solve why & how it happens.

SLUMDOG

2009-02-26T13:14:00.000+05:30

God! I have returned here after so many months.I must be the laziest piece of shit in this whole world.It feels like ages since I posted my last piece here.Actually I got really bored of sitting in front of the computer (ugly excuse).

A lot has happened since then.Slumdog Millionaire bagged 8 Oscars.I saw the movie way back in January.I detected an error in one scene,the climax scene.Jamal is in the hotseat.Latika is watching Jamal on TV.The cruel Javed Bhai,irritated at the show Who wants to be a Millionaire? flips the channel .The TV seems to show a dance no "Aaj ki raat....." from DON.But actually the video is of the song "Fanaa...." from YUVA where Kareena is dancing on the dance floor.

But who cares?Even I don't.Because Slumdog Millionaire satisfies you.

And three cheers for A.R.Rahman! Although he has composed far better music than the one he was awarded for.

MUSIC

2008-07-31T18:20:00.000+05:30

Sometimes when I'm lonely & I lie down on my bed listening to some of my favorite songs,some old memories flash back before the eyes of my consciousness.

These songs seem to strike an invisible chord in my heart.A flood of memories rush to my brain.And life seems so colorful if only for a fleeting moment.So many reactions sprout out:-

"O!This song was my favorite during my school days!"

"O!We used to dance like mad on this song during our school picnic!"

Music has it's own peculiar magic to make us feel like that,unlike movies.This I say even though I watch movies 100 times more than I listen to music.

JUNGLES OF R.K.M.

2008-07-09T18:29:00.000+05:30

The reason I haven't posted anything for so long is due to my laziness.I'm just sooooooo.... lazy,especially during summers.There's something in the summer heat that slows down my cells & makes them lazier.

It's so searing,scorching,steaming hot here in North Bengal,I really miss the cool,wet jungles of Arunachal.

Most of the schools in Arunachal are nestled among thick jungles secluded away from the nearest town.So was our school,R.K.Mission in Tirap.It rains non-stop throughout summer in Tirap.

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I remember playing football a lot in the slippery,water-logged playground during evenings.Everyone would slip forwards,backwards,sideways & crash at one another & the ball would be floating on water in one place.

I slipped & fell flat on my back once.When I got up,I discovered my hair & face was swarming with ants.I had fallen over an ant-hill destroyed by flooded water.Brushing my hair vigorously with my hands,I ran straightaway to the bathroom.

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I thought flying squirrels exist only in Africa.

Once,we were playing volleyball when we saw a really huge squirrel on a branch.We thought it was another normal animal but to our surprise,when it jumped the animal glided more than 20 metres from one tree to another.It had a sort of skin flap from the hind leg to the rear leg.

God!That was one of the most beautiful sights I saw in life.It took my breath away & kept my mouth open in wonder.

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Elephants were a nuisance those days.They'd invade our school & uproot the banana trees planted by our teachers.

All of us were studying one evening.We were shaken out of the silence by loud,bursting noises.I thought those were gun-shots.Everyone forgot their studies & went out to see what it was.

Turns out an elephant was trying to invade the school again.Our Hostel Warden Maharaj was bursting chocolate bombs,leechi bombs,chilli bombs (and all sorts of bombs that you get during Deewali) to scare away the beast.

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IN GORKHALAND

2008-06-23T18:29:00.000+05:30

North Bengal has turned into a volatile piece of shit these days.The Nepalis under Bimal Gurung want Gorkhaland carved out of West Bengal.There have been frequent Nepali v/s Bengali clashes these past few days especially in Siliguri.

Friends & family are worried.They phone us if we're safe here.Bengalis here can't differentiate between a Nepali,Arunachali,Manipuri or a Naga.For them,all are the same because we all look simillar.

The other day,a Nepali v/s Bengali huffle-scuffle broke out in Surya Sen Market near our college auto-stand.We,the students from the North-east were warned from venturing out of hostel by class-mates.

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An indefinite bandh is going on in the hills.

Bimal Gurung promises the Nepalis that Gorkhaland would be a definite possibility by 2010.

Imagine 2010.......

"Where's your medical college?",someone asks me.

"In Gorkhaland." I reply.

****************************************************

A simillar Gorkhaland agitation failed in the 1980's,unsuccessfully led by Subhash Ghising.Kiran Desai's Booker Prize-winning novel "The Inheritance Of Loss" describes that 80's agitation luminously.

I didn't like the book at first.But after a first-hand view of the current Gorkhaland agitation,I re-read it & found it interesting.There were places in the novel that I actually went to.The story revolves a lot around Kalimpong & Darjeeling.

Also liked the cute but doomed love story between Sai & her Nepali tutor,Gyan.

Some comments by the characters in the novel may not be to Nepalis' taste.No wonder the book was banned in Nepal when it released.

***************************************************

BOOZE ELECTIONS.

2008-06-07T16:24:00.000+05:30

The Panchayat elections in Arunachal last month gave me my 1st experience of voting.

Elections in my native village Wakhet Na is a funny business.With a population of roughly 150-160 people,everyone knows everyone.It's easy to know who's on whose side.

In Manipur,Nagaland & Assam,candidates have to please the underground militants with loads of cash if they want to taste victory & the militants will do the rest.In Arunachal,all it takes to influence & tempt the common public is alcohol.

Pre-election days in Wakhet Na were one big picnic.Free alcohol & opium for all.The more bottles a leader can offer,more his chances of winning.

Arunachal is a drinker's paradise.Drinking is a part of the culture here.In my hometown Bordumsa,there are not many shops but wine stores...?There are 5 authorised wine stores.That's a lot for a small town.

******************************************************
As I stood in the men's queue to cast my vote,the smell of alcohol filled the air.During elections,people forget that a liquid called WATER exists.Alcohol becomes God for them.

************************************************

One old man with poor eye-sight complained when he saw the ballot paper.He couldn't make out the party symbols of the candidates in it.Everything was a blur.

"How do you all expect me to vote?I can't see anything",he complained.

*************************************************
All the candidates for ASM,GPM & ZPM seats stood outside the voting room anxiously.One of them had a very ugly bruise all over his forehead & right cheek.It so happened that he had a nasty fight replete with punches & kicks with his election counterpart in a 'house'.Now,all houses in my village are stilt houses erected over wooden poles with split bamboo floors several feet above the ground.

The fight was so violent that the bamboo floor tore down & the bruised-to-be candidate fell through the torn bamboo floor down to the ground.And the bruise was born.

Needless to say,both were drunk.

**************************

GOING HOME

2008-05-20T19:03:00.000+05:30

Dear pals,

Don't expect anything here for atleast 1 week.I'm going home tomorrow.Will return in a week.My excuse is that there're Panchayat elections back home in Arunachal.But I have nothing to do with elections.I just need holidays.Would like to see my baby bro again.

Ta-ta,Bye-bye.

LECTURE TORTURE

2008-05-13T15:45:00.000+05:30

One thing I hate about lecturers is their willingness & eagerness to torture us.Listening to their tasteless lectures is hell enough but when they pick you up & ask questions,they cross their limits of cruelty.

I mean how can they expect us to give good answers when their speeches are too boring for any students' attention.

They keep blah-blahing in the lecture hall non-stop.I enjoy drawing cartoons of lecturers on my note-book during a lecture.There are so many specimens..........Pot-belly,rectangular moustache,triangular face,Island of baldness surrounded by an ocean of hyper-oily hair,expression-less face,........etc.

Sometimes in my cartoons,face is theirs but the bodies are my own versions of creativity.I mean,I create so many rippling muscles all over their bodies in every nook & corner.Muscles much more than Arnold Schwarze-whatever-negger ever possessed in his life.

If you want to escape being asked questions,I have a technique.Avoid eye-contact with the lecturers when they're in a mood to vomit questions.Pretend you're busy scribbling notes or anything.The moment you stare at the lecturer like an idiot owl,the torturer will surely pounce at you-"Yes!You!Stand up!" So,the mantra is Avoid eye-contact.

I've practised this & the percentage of questions being thrown at me has decreased significantly.

SPOOKY NIGHT(s) PART-II

2008-05-03T18:01:00.000+05:30

A Nepali couple,Milon & Rupa Baghdas came all the way from Shillong to work as teachers in my Uncle's school in Bordumsa.I became very close with them when I went home during vacations.I used to volunteer to take Milon Sir's classes & he'd rest in enjoyment.

Then 1 day,both narrated to me the strange encounters they'd been experiencing in their room at night.

Every night,they'd lock their doors & windows securely.But they'd find them open every morning.

"I locked them yesterday night.I woke up today & they were open again.I'm fed up,man." Sir explained in frustration.

Then they also heard babies crying on the roof very often.

Sir also complained about the dogs that slept on their verandah.He said they never barked at night.They were always silent.

************************************

One evening,when Sir went out of his room to cough,he found a woman standing in the playground mimicking his cough.He cleared his sore throat & the woman imitated him again.Sir went in to call Rupa Ma'm but when they came out,the woman disappeared.

Was the ghost flirting with Sir?

***********************************

One evening,Sir & Ma'm were tutoring kids in 2 diferrent rooms.Lights went off.Sir saw a dark silhouette of a woman standing in front of the door.Sir thought she was Ma'm."Jaanu!"-he called to her but the figure went away.

Lights came.He went to Ma'm's class,asked her-"I called you.Why didn't you respond?"

Rupa Ma'm replied-"I didn't come out of my room.In fact,I saw a man standing on the door & I thought it was you!"

************************************

One night,they were sleeping with the kerosene lamp on(no electricity!).Both were half-asleep.Sir was shocked to see a woman standing in front of their mirror applying vermillion powder(sindoor) on her forehead.

**********************************

Sir's health deteriorated & he grew very thin.

Auntie suggested that a Singpho pujari's service should be sought after to ward off the evil spirit.But you know,a Singpho prefers only Singpho pujaris,a Khampti only Khampti pujaris.Naturally,a Nepali thinks only a Nepali pujari can do the trick.

So,both went to meet their pujari but came back empty-handed.

Why?

Sir said when they reached the place,the pujari was half-dead in a state of extreme intoxication & in an extremely happy dreamland of his own from drinking too much liquor.I couldn't help but laugh like mad.The man who was supposed to save them was himself in urgent need of being saved.

They went again when the pujari had woken up from his dreamworld & all the alcohol had evaporated from his blood.

After surveying their room,the pujari said a woman who had died an unsatisfied death while still pregnant was buried below the room.

*************************************

Next vacation I went there.Mr & Mrs Baghdas had left for Shillong never to return again.

SPOOKY NIGHT

2008-04-23T12:43:00.000+05:30

Do you believe in ghosts?It's really hard to believe 'ghosts' really exists because you believe what you see.

I had a spooky experience some months ago.That night I was alone at my hostel room.Room-mates Durik & Hazra were absent.

I was not feeling sleepy.I must've been awake for hours throughout the night.In the silence of the night,I was shocked to hear Durik's bed creaking noisily.Then someone got down from Durik's bed,put on his rubber slippers & walked towards the door.(You can easily make that out from the peculiar sound of rubber slippers rubbing against the floor even in the dark).

I was so scared I spent the rest of the night praying for sunlight to arrive quickly.I kept my eyes shut out of fear though I was not sleepy.

When it was dawn,I got up & checked the door.It was still locked from inside just like it was the night before.

(If you have any spooky experiences to share,do tell me.I passionately love hearing ghost stories!)

HOW TO LOSE YOUR BALLS?

2008-04-17T14:29:00.000+05:30

I forgot to add a very interesting superstition to my list in my last blog.

My school-mates at Chongkham told me eating too much pumpkins will make our balls disappear.They'd explain to me,

"Didn't you hear what happened to Tansen?That greedy pig ate so much pumpkin curry at dinner one night & the next morning,he found his balls missing from his bag."

I had asked Tansen about this.He said he'd searched his scrotum thoroughly but he just couldn't find his 2 marbles there.Where did they go?Some explained the balls had ascended to Tansen's stomach.

The superstition got further enhanced when another boy,Pancha Raja claimed he too had lost his balls due to his favorite pumpkin curry.

But it was easy avoiding pumpkins.The pumpkin curry they gave us at K.F. school was so bad even pigs would've protested a mutiny against the head cook.

And we didn't consider losing our balls a curse at that time.We thought they were vestigial i.e. they were of no use to us except to inflict unnecessary pain when a cricket ball strikes them.

EYE-LASH MAGIC

2008-04-09T19:25:00.000+05:30

One of the fondest memories of school life I have is that I (in fact,everyone) used to believe in all sorts of superstitions I heard from others.
My favorite one was the "Eye-lash Magic",which my class-mate Neetu Manpoong taught me.She said that if I pluck a strand of eye-lash from my eye,keep it on my hand & wish something & then blow it off,any wish would come true.

Every Sunday morning,I practised what she taught me & wished mom would come to see me in hostel with lots of biscuits.And damn yes ! My wishes came true 4 Sundays in a row ! That was the full stop,though.After that 4th Sunday,my eye-lashes seemed to have lost all their magic.
Here are some of the superstitions I used to believe faithfully in school but lost my faith in them as soon as I lost my innocence.

1.Never point at a rainbow.Your fingers will turn rotten. (There's even a cure in case you've already straightened your index finger.Just bite your finger & you're free from the rotten curse !)

2.Never play with fire at night or you'll urinate in your sleep.(A cousin taught me this).

3.Never spit on cow dung lest you want to suffer mumps.

4.Never eat anything while lying down.You'll turn into a snake.

5.Never keep anything that is red in colour near you 0r with you at night.They say,ghosts are attracted to red things.

6.Spit all around your mosquito net before you sleep.That will ward off evil ghosts.

7.Never crack open a mango seed & eat its contents.You'll turn insane.

8.Hollywood ghosts are afraid of the Holy Cross.Our Hindu ayahs at K.F. school taught us to keep dry ginger,onion,garlic or chillies under our pillow at night.You just show these dry things as soon as you see that ugly evil & lo ! They'll vanish out of sight !These superstitions made hostel life so interesting at K.F. school.

SUMMER ARRIVES

2008-04-01T20:45:00.000+05:30

Bye,bye,winter & spring.Here comes summer.I got the first sign of Mr.Summer's arrival yesterday on my way to Siliguri in an auto-rickshaw.

I was sitting in the front seat next to a stocky policeman.The whole 20-minute journey from my college to Siliguri must've been as suffocating as Hitler's gas chamber.His body odour was so powerfully,awfully bad that I've no words to describe it.I'm at a loss for words.God has given him an extremely powerful arm-pit.

It was only 20 minutes for me.I've full sympathy for the criminals this policeman interacts everyday.

O God ! What an odour ! A peculiar odour.....sour,spicy,oily....all mixed up in God's own proportions.Yuck ! Bwech ! Uwok !

So,summer has arrived.So has bad odour.

INDIA OR CHINA?

2008-03-29T19:39:00.000+05:30

Every morning,the papers splash the same news all over my face.Tibetans protest against Chinese rule.Here in Darjeeling,Bimal Gurung's men want their own Gorkha-land carved out of West Bengal.

China claims Arunachal to be their territory.But the media gives no importance to any news relating Arunachal.Would Arunachal be better-off with India or China?I guess China would do to us what it has done to Tibet, i.e. in China-occupied Arunachal,our state would become a developed province but Chinese population would out-number the Arunachalis.Days ago,The Telegraph showed an angry Tibetan chasing a Han Chinese with a stick on a street in Lhasa.Imagine an angry,hot Arunachali running after a Han Chinese with a sharp dao hungry to cut him to pieces.Damn ! That 'd be a sexy front-page photo !

But who said India was better?My Grandpa has never seen a metalled road in his village in decades.Every year the pot-holes gain a bigger circumferance & get deeper.Every monsoon,they become mini fishing ponds.

The rest of India know nothing about our state.A contestant of KBC couldn't even name the capital of Arunachal correctly.Well,they may know just some superficial details.That's all for them.Full Stop.

But I guess I'd like to be in India.I really feast upon Bollywood movies.And yes,cricket.....Not playing the game but being part of the audience.It's an experience that lets go off my steam.During the T20 World Cup IND vs AUS semi-final,all we boys were howling like anything sitting on the table-tennis table.When India won,we literally became animals & jumped & danced & hugged each other & then the table collapsed like it was rampaged by a bull-dozer....DHURUM...DHARAAM......Bloody bulls we were ! Bloody Indian bulls !

PHAAAK DEM OL !!!

2008-03-17T17:19:00.000+05:30

It's been a week since I returned back to college after a self-extended vacation.Much water has flowed under the Teesta ever since.The pork & fish pickle I brought for friends was finished in 2 days flat.

Exam results are out.Everyone (most of them) has moved on to a new academic year.The new interns are the happiest.They'll be earning from now on besides getting to flirt with nurses.Bengalis flirt with Bengali nurses while those from the North-east flirt with pretty Nepali nurses.Not all are pretty,though.Some are more than just pretty.They're really gorgeous.Just yesterday,I saw a slim,beautiful Nepali nurse with a mole on her chin.

Many of our interns from the North-east have been flirts.I guess some of us are going to maintain the tradition with heads held high.A Nepali nurse once presented Tanungda 2 cucumbers.Another offered to go out for a movie show.

Leave the interns alone for now.Durik & Monah informed me about all the Current Affairs of the campus I had been missing.An inter-batch cricket tournament was in progress.It was spiced up by a lot of incidents.In our match against 2nd year,the umpires(who were from final year) gave 5 LBW dismissals against us & our boys got furious.Volcano erupted.A heated argument followed & the ground became a quarrel-ground between players,umpires & spectators.Durik too was an LBW victim.He invited the umpires & their friends for an 'open challenge',a hand-to-hand mortal combat in the field.Durik Ete became Gladiator Ete.Our team gave a 'walk-over' & abandoned the match.

The semi-finals & the final were full of sledging.Whenever a wicket fell,a war cry would erupt-PHAAAAK DEM OL!!! (Bengali version of 'Fuck them all!!!').Too much addiction of Hollywood movies.At times,they'd simply accuse each other names of diseases.Boys of fat,stocky frame who always mis-fielded were the best targets.

"Hydrocoele !!" (A term for accumulation of liquid in the testes)

"Gynaecomastia !!" (Development of breasts in male)

"Elephantiasis !!" (Massive enlargement of body parts due to hypertrophy of connective tissues due to abnormal lymphatic drainage)

In the final,when one of our chutiya seniors from final year called one of our boys a hydrocoele,our class topper counter-attacked with elephantiasis,which was a fitting reply because in elephantiasis,the testes may weigh as heavy as 80 kgs.

Needing 13 runs for victory in 2 overs,Durik smashed 2 fours & ended the final contest.Durik Ete became Megastar Ete.Blockbuster-star Ete.To show off his star status,he went to receive his winners' medal in sunglasses.(It was already so dark that reading the score-board was impossible).All's well that ends well.

VOTE OF THANKS:-My sincere thanks to Bhajji,our inspiration,our role model,our God of sledging.

WILD BOAR SKULL

2008-03-13T15:55:00.000+05:30

This is a photo of 2 wild boar skulls decorating my Uncle's scooter garage in his new house.People in Singpho villages believe that unless you sacrifice animals to please the ghosts,they'll not let peace settle in your new house.So,they seek to make both the God(s) & the Ghosts happy.

GAON KA TREATMENT

2008-03-12T14:24:00.000+05:30

I visited Uncle's village at Miao after 8 years this February.Uncle & Aunty shifted to a new place after the death of Grandpa & Grandma because the old house had too many memories.Also,too many haunted stories.I wanted to visit Grandma's now abandoned house.

I went there with my cousin & her friends to pluck oranges.The old house was in ruins.On our way back after plucking oranges,I accidentally stepped over a long,thick,rusted nail protruding out of an abandoned wooden plank.The nail pierced through my slippers.On retracting my foot,the muscles of my right sole protruded out.

My cousin's friend crushed some wild herbs & applied them over my wounded sole.There was no sign of pain on my face.I wanted to show my manliness to her.

The next few days were literally hell.My leg swelled massively.To cover my distances,I had to hop on one leg like a kangaroo & since Uncle's was a bamboo house,my hopping made irritating noises all day.It was impossible to bend any part of my wounded leg.Outside the house,I had to use a bamboo to jump from here to there.The pain was breaking my patience.I wanted to go to a secluded place & shout my frustrated guts out.Showing my pain in front of women & kids was not manliness.

Treatment was,well....gaon ka treatment.Mother applied a 'very hot' oil-soaked cloth over my open wound.I shouted as loud as an angry prehistoric man.Maybe,even louder.Aunty suggested something less painful.She applied roasted ginger over my wound.It was no less torture.Earlier I only shouted.Now,I roared!Not once,but about 5-6 times.That's the number of times Aunty applied her treatment.Everyone(except me!) sitting around the fire enjoyed the spectacle.

An old lady tied a sacred thread around my wrist.She joked - When you become a doctor,don't forget we three doctors treated you today.

Uncle came in the evening with his haathi mahout.The mahout is full of attitude.He looked at me,smiled cruelly & said that I should apply a hot iron rod over the wound.He claimed it would be painful at first but the next day I'd be riding a bicycle at motorcycle's speed.He claimed-It is instant treatment.

The pain was nothing compared to the difficulty in emptying my bladder & bowels.While emptying my bladder,I had to lift my wounded leg to do my ablutions.That's the way of the dogs.I had to concentrate on 2 things - i)To balance myself on 1 leg. ii)To make sure the urine doesn't wet my pants while balancing myself.On my debut,due to inexperience,the liquid sprinkled all over my legs.It's not easy.Try this yourself standing on 1 leg.

Uncle & the mahout smokes opium every night.I knew opium is a pain-killer.I wanted to ask for a few puffs but refrained.They'll not believe me.

My foot got cured in a week,thanks to the gaon ka treatment.Though I'm a medical student,I was of no use there when I got injured.

VIVA TABLE

2007-12-16T13:01:00.000+05:30

I completed my FSM(Forensic Science & Medicine) Item Card viva yesterday.These vivas are given before the final exams just for revision.I read only 2 days before the viva.The viva turned out so bad,I was asked to come the next day again.The HOD(Head of Deptt) kept asking questions.I kept staring in blank space.I had cleverly tried to murmur my lips silently to give a false impression that I knew the answers but had forgotten it at that moment.But that plan failed to evoke any sympathy.

That night seniors from North-east narrated their own viva anecdotes to comfort me.They said they'd given more stupid answers & still passed.Sample these:-

*******************

1). SIR:What is the definition of Health according to W.H.O. ?

SENIOR(from Manipur) :Sir...aaaa...Prevention is better than cure.

****************************

2).SIR:What is muscle twitch?

SENIOR(from Arunachal):Sir,muscle twitch is a twitch which twitches a muscle.

****************************

The next day,due to shortage of time,the HOD wanted to finish the viva quickly.So,he called all the remaining students to his room at a time for the viva.Oh God!What could be worse than being humiliated in front of my batch-mates?

A huge table separated the HOD from the students.The HOD recognised me.He ordered-You!Yes,you!Bring that chair & sit here beside me! The day was changing from worse to hell.Now I had to sit facing my batch-mates.If I'm red-faced,everyone can see me.Bull shit!!

Luck was bad.In the long sequence of students,I was asked questions last of all.By the time my turn came,all the easy questions became extinct.Sometimes,the easiest questions are the toughest because you don't expect them.I was googly-ed when Sir asked-What is poison?

"Sir,any substance that causes abnormality in the body."(I made my own answer.)

"Is this what I taught in class?"

"No,Sir."

Hearing the HOD's scolds from less than a metre near was a torture for the delicate tymphanic membrane in my ear.Luckily,I was not the only one who gave all the stupid answers.Some guess answers given by batch-mates:-

*************************Q:How do you treat a case of sulphuric acid poisoning?

A:By giving 'stomach wash'? (Smart guess,since stomach wash is given in almost all cases of poisoning.But.....)

Q:Ha Ha!In fact it's the only case where stomach wash is not used.**********************
Q:Difference between cobra & viper.
A:......Cobra is longer than viper.(Foolish guess!)
**********************
Q:Have you read "Vegetable irritants"?

A:Yes,Sir!
Q:Name some vegetable irritants.
A:...................(No answer).
**********************
One was so tense,she explained her answers in Bengali.
**********************
Then there were some brainy ones,too who were asked to name only the constituents of cobra venom but volunteered to utter the ingredients of cobra venom,viper venom,krait venom & all the venom in the world.This is a strong evidence that there are persons in this world who aim to score 20 out of 10.

SHIT! THE BROWN SOUP!

2007-11-30T14:36:00.000+05:30

I've seen porcupines only in zoos,never in jungles.Porcupines really fascinate me,especially their erectile spines.How do they shoot them?

At K.F.School hostel,Chongkham, every winter the boarders were frequently given a special medicinal soup to prevent them from catching cough & cold.A brown soup made from porcupine's faeces mixed with strange jungle herbs.We were made to stand in a long queue & the brown soup was poured into everyone's reluctant mouth one by one.DOSE:1 tablespoon/person. We were set free only after the porcu shit went down our throats.

We wanted to kill all the porcupines in the world so that there was none left to make us drink their shit again.Gradually,we got used to it.It tasted kind of spicy.Hot & spicy.Villagers in Arunachal still have more faith in such type of traditional medicines.

One winter,we visited Grandma's village.Uncle had gone hunting to prepare for our welcome.He returned with a rare prized hunt-a dead porcupine.After we were made to drink so much of porcu shit all those years at hostel,there was not even a microscopic area left in my heart to pity that killed porcu.I enjoyed gobbling that meat.

********************************

I've seen people treasuring porcu spines in so many homes.My classmate in R.K.Mission,Rasti even presented 2 porcu spines each to the whole class as a souvenir during our school-leaving day.God knows where he got that from.

That year,a porcu was found dead in our volleyball ground near the forest.The animal looked fine from outside.No injury,nothing.I still don't know what our Hostel Warden Maharaj did with that porcu.Some said Swapan Uncle (who serves us food in the dining hall) took it home & ate it.Maybe Rasti got the spines from Swapan Uncle.

But how did the porcu die? Why did he come such a long way leaving his jungle home,his family & die there,in our playground? Was it a case of suicide?

******************************

TIP:If you dare to call yourself adventurous,you should really try that brown soup!

AFTER EXAMS

2007-11-20T19:19:00.000+05:30

The Sem exams are over at last.I was sleep-deprived during late nights during the exam week.Now,we have the whole day to sleep but don't feel sleepy at all.I've been hyper-busy these last few days watching movies non-stop.

Meanwhile,4 days ago,Durik's mom & aunties came all the way from Along (Arunachal) for a vacation to Darjeeling & Gangtok.I & Durik went to receive them at the bus station.Bus arrived at about 10 am in Siliguri.Looking at the 1st row seat of the bus,Durik told me,"I recognise her." A girl & a woman sat there.The girl was ever-smiling so I smiled back at her smartly.

When all the women came out with their bags,I found out the woman next to the smiling girl was the actual one from Along.I had been smiling to a stranger.There were 5 women in all.I recognised Durik's mom.I'd seen her in Durik's album.Durik introduced me to all.

"So you are Gumlat."Durik's mom acknowledged.

"Yes,Auntie."

"I've heard you & Durik compete with each other every morning on who can sleep the longest." All the women laughed in chorus.

"No,Auntie,Durik sleeps more than me," I defended unsuccessfully.

Durik went with the womenfolk to Darjeeling.He has been appointed their unofficial tour guide.Durik"s mom said they might enter to see our hostel when they return back from their tour.I & Durik protested,"No!No!The condition of our room is very....not-fit-to-be-seen."

And so they left in a hired Tata Sumo.

They are returning today.I swept our room & cleared all the spiderman cob-webs in case the women party really come inside.I removed my posters of Jennifer Lopez,Beyonce Knowles,Sharon Stone & all the hot bods decorating my wall.

DIWALI DHAMAKA

2007-11-09T14:56:00.000+05:30

So,its Diwali today.And Diwali brings back some fond memories of the past.It was way back in 2004,my 1st Diwali at home.I had a minor accident.My right wrist was fractured & my arms had to rest on a sling with bandages.It was a very embarassing accident.I was riding my bicycle at full speed.All of a sudden,my loose trousers got entangled into the paddle chain.The cycle broke its speed & before I could balance myself,I crashed noisily on the left side in full public view.Nothing is more disgraceful than a cycle accident.The public thinks you can't even control a simple two-wheeler.On top of that,when I pulled my trouser out of the chain,it got torn mid-way through my calf.

That didn't stop me from enjoying Diwali.When I went to Nizam Bhaiya's shop near our house,he was so filled with pity on seeing my bandages that he gave me 10 rockets at the price of 5 ! What a night that was firing those rockets!!!

Mid-way through the night,I began to doubt Nizam Bhaiya's intention to gift me the extra rockets.Only 2-3 rockets behaved normally,the rest were insane.Instead of launching itself straight up,they would fly waywardly at acute angles to the ground in all directions.

I lighted the ignition thread of one of the rockets.There was no response even after I waited for more than 1 min.Frustrated,I turned the bottle down to check.The thread was still red.And then,instantly, like a missile it shot forward parallel to the ground.Destiny made mother come out of the house at that very moment & be at the target end of the rocket.The missile hit the wall & kept bouncing around mom & she kept jumping in one place shouting loudly.We laughed non-stop.I had seen mom jumping for the 1st time.It was a rare KODAK moment.A relieved mom later said-I came to call you all for dinner.

One rocket flew at 45 degrees,hit our willow tree & kept flying in a circle around the brances.Another 45 degree rocket hit the thatched roof of a Nepali fellow across the street.As expected,a hoarse,angry voice showered all the curses of the world on the terrorist who sent the missile to his beloved home.3 or 4 of the rockets were extremely stubborn & refused to take off,only uttering a word,"FOOOOOS!!"

Being fractured didn't stop me from enjoying that Diwali.Nizam Bhaiya's rockets were truly extra-ORDINARY!!!

MAN-SLAUGHTER

2007-10-07T16:01:00.000+05:30

I have seen butchers slaughtering animals.I feel nothing because I see it often.But last week,I saw 'human slaughter' before my eyes.It was a legal slaughter,though.

We attended the Post-Mortem investigations in the Mortuary during our Forensic Prac.There were 5 dead bodies in the P.M. room.The room stinked so bad,it was intolerable.I thought the Anatomy dissection hall with its formalin-preserved bodies was the smelliest.But this room has broken all records.Next time,think twice before you say 'You stink like a dead rat!'. We humans smell no better.

The 1st body we saw was of a man in his late 20s.He was healthy,muscular & had flawless skin.How did he die? Sir showed us a mark around the man's neck,the mark left behind by the rope he used to hang himself.A case of suicidal hanging.

"Dissect it!", Sir ordered a man in green apron (with mask over his face).He was the official butcher of human bodies here.He had such a steady hand.He passed his 'very sharp' knife through the mid-line of the body's chest.Then he expertly & coolly removed the skin,fascia & the fat layer .There before my eyes were the ribs & the adjoining muscles.With 2 parallel strong cuts,he ripped the ribs open.God,it was spine-chilling.Am I really watching this? In order to control myself,I tried to imagine it was not a man being dissected but some animal,say a goat.(Except of course,a goat would never hang itself to death).He extracted the heart.Sir showed us red,blood spots on the surface of lungs.

Ripping the ribs was nothing compared to what Sir ordered next."Now cut the neck!" I turned my face away.I couldn't see someone's neck being cut before my eyes.Sir then showed us the internal findings in the neck.

I felt very happy to see the butcher's forehead sprinkled with sweat droplets even under a fan.So,he's not so cool as I thought.After all,he too is human.

The 2nd dead body was of a pregnant woman.Her upper half was severely burned & badly discoloured.Her uterus was cut & there was a foetus inside,but only the head.The official butcher had mistakenly cut the foetus's head.Sir scolded him for this.The butcher ran his fingers through the intestines,the bladder,everywhere searching for the foetus's body.

"What's he doing around those intestines?A foetus is supposed to be inside a uterus",commented one of us.The body was not found.

On coming out of the room,we found blood-splattered fresh 'dead bodies' arriving to the Mortuary.My mind was disturbed by what I saw.It's going to take some time to get adjusted to all these things.

MEDITATION IS BANNED!!!

2007-10-02T20:19:00.000+05:30

YEAR-1998 (I was in Cl-VI)........
PLACE-K.F.School,
Senior Section (Cl-VI to X),
Chongkham,Arunachal.

The Principal proudly announced during the morning Assembly that a new item would be added to the school curriculum.Every Saturday evening,there would be a meditation session for 10 mins.

Saturday arrived.All the boys,girls & teachers assembled at the T.V. hall.The teachers sat cross-legged on carpets in the front;we students behind them.The Principal advised us to imagine about Kalki Devta with closed eyes,straight back & hands on our legs.Kalki Devta who?Never heard of this God.

"NOW START!!",barked the Principal.

The hall was so silent that it was a torture.But our seniors at the back saved us from the torture.Sitting far away from the teachers gave them courage.Some boys started whispering.Others whistled slowly at the girls.Lots of them cracked their finger knuckles.It was so enjoyable.And then came the big bang.A fart exploded!

The whole hall was filled with controlled laughter.Me,too.I & Doktor,my friend sat right behind the Principal.We were still trying to keep our laughter as inaudible as possible when all of a sudden the infuriated Principal pulled me & Doktor up with his huge arms & gave us a noisy spanking on our buttocks. "GET OUT!!",barked the red-faced 60-plus chap.

Later,both of us were called to the office to say SORRY to the Principal.Instead,they should've investigated & identified the fart who had disturbed all the peace & harmony.

But the boys' courage didn't diminish a bit.Every Saturday,they continued with their whispering,whistling,knuckle-cracking & farting.One Saturday,one of the teachers caught Abhaash,our senior, measuring Rajan Sir's buttocks from behind.Ahmed Sir raised his lungi & was about to kick Abhaash with his bear-like hairy legs but Rajan Sir himself stopped him.

Abhaash became an overnight star among the boys for this daring act.

The Principal couldn't have anymore of this.Next day in the morning Assembly,after a lengthy speech,he announced,

"MEDITATION IS BANNED!!"

MY FIRST LOVE

2007-09-29T17:38:00.000+05:30

The first lady I ever fell in love was my Moral Science Teacher,Rita Miss.I was in Class-IV then.Whenever I looked at her,I felt 'something-something' in my heart.

I always scored the highest marks in all her exams.The first time she shook my hand to congratulate me,I felt goosebumps appearing all over my skin.My heart-beats multiplied x times.
One day she took all my seniors of Class-V to her house nearby.I got so jealous of them.
She was so soft-spoken & kind-hearted,it was difficult not to love her.She left my school after 1 year.I never saw her again.

Here's a poem I wrote in her memory in 2006.

RITA MISS

Once upon a time
I was a boy,10 years old.
Very shy,silent & cold.
We had a cute Moral-Science teacher.
With a voice so soft,so mild,
She drove my heart wild.

Draped in salwar-kameez,eyes in specs,
She was ever so simple.
So young,yet her face
Had not a single pimple.

Every teacher at school
Were hungry,thirsty demons,
Itching to beat with sticks,
To squash us like rotten lemons.

Rita Miss stood alone
Never once using the rod.
So,I & we adored her,
Idolised her,admired her a lot.

I rolled up my quilt
Every night beside me,
And kiss 'Good Night,Miss' to it
Like the beach & the sea
In a voice very,very low
So that no one would ever know
This madness of mine.
I'd then sleep,relaxed & fine.

Though Rita Miss & I
Would never fit the same glove
That was the first time
I ever fell in love.

THE UNDERWEAR SINGERS

2007-09-29T16:50:00.000+05:30

'Underwear Singers' are another name for 'Bathroom Singers'.Only some may be a true singer but everyone is a born bathroom singer.

At R.K.M. school hostel,the bathroom was the favourite haven for everyone to showcase one's singing talent.Every evening,after a dirty & exhausting game of football,the bathroom got crowded.Whatever energy was left after football,all of it got used up in the bathroom.Because there,no one really sings.Everyone shouts.Everyone wants to sing louder than the rest.

Just like the different colours & designs of underwear we wore,each one of us had a distinct singing style.Anil(Bandar,Vaanar) was the most popular.His local Nocte version of Kuch Kuch Hota Hai was a hit.He mostly sang Mohd Rafi songs & we willingly added chorus to his performance.We were like one big band,the Underwear Band.I still remember Moli singing Yeh Mumbai Nagariya in his old-man-like hoarse voice,trying to mimic Lucky Ali.Nima sang Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam exactly like a lady's voice.Anand sang Baagania songs,the type that could drive tea garden workers crazy.Sample:Amar paata lamba-lamba.My friends say that during the whole 2 years at R.K.M.,I sang only one song Dil ka Rishta everyday.I think I'm more versatile than that.

Ah!I can't forget to mention Pengkam & Choi.When they sang(I mean shout),they shook the whole hostel,the trees,the birds on the trees,everyone.They sang English songs at the highest frequency humanly possible.We could hear it even in the dining hall.I once noticed Chandan Maharaj,our Hostel Warden eating his tiffin with difficulty with a disturbed face.His ear-drums were being tortured by our lung-blasting singers.It was difficult to say if Pengkam & Choi were singing or swearing curse words at someone.No one could decipher their lyrics.

One day in class,Maiti Sir commented that our bathroom songs could be heard as far as the teachers' quarters,about 100 meters away.

Bathroom singers are better than stage singers.They don't fuss over their clothes.They don't need an audience.They don't need claps.All they need is a chorus.

A DEVIL CALLED PIMPLES

2007-09-26T16:18:00.000+05:30

Hey guys,here is a poem I wrote when I was in Class-XI.This is the 2nd poem of my 'PIMPLES TRILOGY'.At school I was famous for my big,juicy pimples.I used to spend every second of my waking hours worrying about them.Whenever I called home from hostel,the first thing Mom used to ask was,'How is your pimples now?'
Thank God,those years of hell are over.Here I pay my tribute to them.

A FACE WITH PIMPLES

Afraid I am to see my face,

With pimples invading all its place.

They are there,they are here,

On the forehead,near the ear,

On the cheeks,I just can't bear.

Gives my mates a reason to jeer

And mock and tease

As much as they please.

Now they are mountains,tipped with snow,

One time white,one time yellow.

Sometimes a cone,sometimes round,

But to my face,they're always bound.

Above my skin they rise

Making it their paradise.

They are there more than enough

Making the surface friction-rough.

I don't like the friction,God!

Please God!Please God!

Adjectives of every kind

From many a mate's mind

Have described these pimples of mine

Most of which are not at all fine.

"You look like someone

From a movie of horror!

This face which is yours only one

Is a face of terror!

No need to ask anyone

Confirm yourself in the mirror!"

"How dare you say that

I look like a demon!

If you be kind to me to let

I could squash you like a rotten lemon!"

Prepared I am for a volley of jokes

With replies to all those teasing blokes

But they do not make a day bright

For they gently poke my pride.

Because I know what they say

Are,by God,only the truth

But I'm not in dismay

Though my face be a bit crude.

Those sobriquets from hell

To describe a face with many a pimple

All would have been well

If my face was smooth and simple.

These tiny devils have irritated me a lot

And the friction is still too much.

Can't you be fast,O God!

To remove them with your magical touch?

'What God does is good.'

I've heard but not understood.

What good does pimples do?

For onlookers boo and boo.

It would be really nice

If the pimples leave their paradise.