A new achievement, so to say


Ever been in a situation where your head is strapped down to a bed with metal rods and bolts and you are shoved into a metal cylinder which is so small that you can't move your hands around and your only company is a pair of screws that mockingly stare at you from the metal rod that holds your head down and the music to ease your boredom is the weird noises that the cylinder is making?

I was; for full 2 hours and I wasn't amused. It's as if I was being punished for some mistake and I wasn't even asked what my last wish was. It was not a death sentence, I know, but it was close, so damn close.

The technician who strapped me down and turned me into a guniea pig was mad that I revolted against being in this non-enviable position for ten whole minutes while he checked the images! He said I could use some patience. I wanted to tell him, "Yeah, you lie down here and I will strap you down and shove you into the cold furnace. Let's see how much patience you have. Lend me some if you have any."

People around me find it entertaining when I narrate my experience. They ask me stupid questions and when I answer with utmost seriousness and high emotions, all they do is laugh. I don't think that's funny. Not at all.

For people who don't know what I am talking about. This is called MRI (Magnetic Resonance Imaging). Wish none of you ever need to get this done. Ever.

If you ask me how it feels to be given this opportunity of being MRI-ed (that's my addition to the English dictionary, no other word can describe how it feels to get an MRI done), I can sum it all up in just one word. Claustrophobic. That's exactly how I felt.

Mental tussle



I have reached a stage where I have to choose between two wishes. Both wishes are equally important to me and I can't imagine letting go of one for the sake of another. No matter how much I try to defer this decision, I know one day I have to sit down and say I like wish A better than wish B and go with it.

Its sad to know that I have reached this stage at all. Could I have avoided it? Yes. Did I? No.

If I choose Wish A: I am happy that I went with A. Hubby is happy too. I am sad that I didn't go with wish B.
If I choose Wish B: I am happy that I went with B. Hubby is not all that happy. I am sad that I didn't go with B.

If you see the above situation, anybody would suggest that I should go with A because lesser number of people are sad. But, I can't go with A because if I let go of B now, I can never have that wish. Never again. That's not the case with A. I can defer it for sometime, of course with some risk involved.

I have further complicated this situation by telling my hubby about my mental state. He is sweet enough to say that he will support me no matter what decision I take. Even if he wants me to go with wish A from deep down his heart, he won't say it! He is so so so sweet, its all the more difficult for me to see him sad.

The bottom line is, I am in a fix. And I don't know what to do.

If you think I am talking gibberish, that's probably because I am.

That which we call a rose by any other...


Humans think they are the most powerful. To believe that we have the power to decide whether a ball of mass is a planet or not: what a cheek! Who are we to decide whether Pluto is a planet or not? It will remain the size and color regardless of what its title is. I can't fathom how we can declare that 'Pluto will no longer be considered as a planet'? That is pretentious, to say the least.

I can see God reading the Times of India, chuckling to himself and saying, "You forget a teeny-weeny point, my children. If I want, I can wipe out your planet. Are you sure your planet will exist tomorrow?"

And do I hear a far cry of "We are a planet"? And why do I feel they are strange, green colored creatures?

More on Orkut

Further to my previous rant about orkut, I found how someone can exploit orkut to make money.

I got a call on my office extension today. Here is the excerpt:

Phone rings...

Me: Hello
He: Am I speaking to Anamika?
Me: Yes
He: Hi, I am Sankalp. I am a consultant.
Me: Ok...
He: Can you give me your mobile number? I will call you in the evening and brief you about the requirements.

Me: Why don't you give me your mobile number and I will call you back?
He: I can't give you my number because my mobile is provided by the office.
Me: Then how dare you call me on my number which is not only provided by the office, but is within the office campus?
He: Give me your email id atleast, I will send you a mail.
Me: Who gave you my name and number?
He: Some reliable source. Can't disclose the name. (Yeah right, I am Britney Spears and you are paparazzi)
Me: Why not?
He: I can't. Give me your mobile number.
Me: What the ? Who the are you?

Beeeeeeeeeep......... He hung up.


After a lot of thinking and logical reasoning, I somehow feel that this information was procured from orkut. Well, if one has the patience to scan through plethora of unfamiliar faces and their unreadable scrapbooks and note the name of the person and the company he/she is working for, one sure is desperate: not to change one's job, but to make sure somebody else changes their job.

PS: His English was nowhere as good as this. His words were smeared with coconut oil. He was a Mallu.

My new found group



I became a member of the elite community orkut recently. I see my friends from a different angle. It's as if we all put up masks and play different roles when we are on orkut. The moment you log off, you are back to your original self. Strange, huh?

How many of these are you guilty of?

You put up the best of your photographs -- the more modern you look, the better.

You scriblle in your friend's scrapbook hoping that your freind's friend notices you and sends you a friend request.

You disable profile updates and sneak into all your close friends' and not so close friends' profiles to see if they have uploaded their fiancee's or girlfriend's or spouse's picture.

You improve your vocabulary by adding the word 'scrap' to your 2-page-dictionary. The first time one of my friends said, "I will scrap you", I cringed in disgust.

You can't take 2 minutes off to shoot a mail to your best friend, but can find enough liesure to login to orkut (Man, is it slow!) and wade through the list of your friends, find the one you are looking for and then scribble something. Oh yeah, I forgot that the point of scrapping someone is not because you want that person's attention but somebody else's who is on that person's buddy list.

So, why am I on orkut? Because I met some of my old friends who I wouldn't have met if not for orkut. I am not against orkut, I use it to keep in touch with few of my friends whose email ids I don't keep, because they are not that close. I use it to see what's happening in others' lives, just to see if something interests me.

But, when it comes to talking to my best friend, I don't scrap her. It has to be a long e-mail or a live chat or even better, pick up the phone and talk to her. Sad that she is not accessible on phone. I hope she finishes her MS and comes back soon. I miss her.

Steve's irony

The news of the death of Steve Irwin, the Crocodile hunter spread like wild fire. As soon as the words 'Croc hunter is dead' fell on my ears, my brain cells automatically deduced that he must have been killed by a crocodile. What else? He spent all his life amongst deadly crocodiles and alligators! His life was at risk every time he stepped into a lake or a sea, or touched an alligator or cuddled a crocodile. For someone whose life hung from a crocodile's sharp tooth, to be killed by a creature which is termed harmless, is a big irony. I guess he would be have been proud of himself, if he was killed by a crocodile. He would have imagined himself being gnawed by hungry reptiles, but I bet he wouldn't have even dreamt that he would be stung by a stingray. What an irony.