MY superhero denims!

You know the feeling. 

Your favorite pair of denims is beginning to wear out and that t shirt you love so much is beginning to fade. In a perfect world you'd be able to go out and buy another pair just like it in a flash. Only it isn't a perfect world and the sartorial god isn't on your side. Not today, atleast!

My GAS denims have been with me for long. At about twelve and a half grand , sure they were a stretch, but when you consider the fact that I paid about 1500 rupees for them, the deal doesn't seem so bad! How? Don't ask!

Now, these are no ordinary denims mind you. They are Uv protective. They come with a temperature control option and they have a unique florescent gel that can help forest rangers track me, should I get lost on a trek in the jungle. uhh..ok , quit rolling your eyes. Truth be told, these denims can do no such thing, heck... no denims do! but the one thing that makes them soooo good is a fantastic fit! And trust me, that's a novelty! 

Now, if your wondering what's preventing me from buying exactly the fit, shade, size blah blah... problem is GAS in India has shut shop (pun intended) ..and what only began as a dillema about denims is soon going to extend to t-shirts and what not.

Imagine tees that make you look like your in shape, when you actually aren't. Fabric designed to conceal donuts and brownies oh my! What am I going to do when these things begin to wither away? Why can't good clothes last forever. Why, god, why!?

P! ;)

Weeding it out

The weed didn't choose to be a weed. It didn't choose to grow in a pot that already had a more desirable plant in it. The wind just carried its seed there. It had no choice but to grow. Unwanted. It only tried to live. Drank it's nourishment from the soil. Basked in the glory of the sun. That it slowly began killing the other plant, the one that was potted with love, was perhaps not intentional. Or was it?

Is it the weeds fault that its a weed? Perhaps not. Would it be a better living being if it didn't kill the other plant in the bargain? But then it wouldn't have fulfilled the job of a weed, would it now? 

I don't feel great pulling out the weed. But it IS killing the other plant. One that was a vibrant red, and flourished merrily in the first few months is beginning to look more and more frail now. It's space being taken over by another being. Its water being absorbed before it can get to it. The rays of the sun being blocked by the tall stems of the weed. The parasite. 

We simply plant the unwanted guest in another pot. The weed didn't choose to be a weed, after all. 

Of glasses and more.

I wonder sometimes about the glass being half empty or half full. Not because I’m trying to figure where I stand on the optimistic scale…but because I’d like to know which way I would’ve seen it if I didn’t know the psychobabble behind it. Who doesn’t?!

 

I’d like to think of myself as a positive person. Heck, I think I might  even be tipping dangerously towards the “its all going to be great” side of the scale. The tarot deck might refer to it as “the fool”, a card I get very often in my readings. It’s the image of a boy walking merrily, not knowing he’s standing at the very end of a cliff. He couldn’t care less though. Between gravity and good karma, it’s karma that always wins and his chances of falling head first are one in infinity.

 

I remember reading in ‘the secret life of bees’, that people start out one way but don’t often turn out the same. True. I’ve always believed that things have a way of working out. And part of that belief has come from the fact that it’s something that’s always happened. I’m not sure how, but it always has.

 

Back to the half full glass, or half empty, is it?

When I racked my pretty lil brains about who this experiment might possibly work on…the answer flat out was ‘anyone who doesn’t know about the theory’. Like duh. Problem is… its one of the first few things you learn about life when you do personality tests or Type A or type B tests and what not. (I’m type A if I remember correctly). It’s a trick question that everyone knows the answer to. Doesn’t seem so tricky then, does it? If by some stroke of genius you did manage to catch a child before someone spoiled the fun by telling him the rationale behind this lil trick, I don’t even know if his or her vocabulary would be enough to render the experiment conclusive. Assuming our bright little lab rat says “where’s the rest of the water?”..does it mean he’s wildly upset about the glass not being full or curious when it will be. I know, makes no sense to me either.

 

Now whenever I’m taking one of these fun personality quizzes (they never get old, really.). Are you a born millionaire? Are you a good lover? Are you the life of the party? Do you have a penis that all other men envy, …kinda tests…you’ve already figured by the third question which of the a) b) or c) is going to give you the desired personality type. And if they’ve been clever enough to not make the results that apparent…one picks the most flattering ones anyway.

 

A part of me wants to erase the knowledge of the full glass test. In another life perhaps I’d object wildly if anyone even tried to educate me on the matter before I could take an unbiased test myself. Since that’s not about to happen anytime soon, unless a wave of amnesia hits me ( and here I sincerely hope it doesn’t), I’m going to continue being the fool from the tarot deck who might be innocent, but is atleast in the able hands of his dear friend. Fate.

Out, in the open!

We’re sitting by the river Satluj. My cousins, my aunt and I. We’ve come to this exact same spot by the river on my last trip a few months ago. And since then, we’ve longed to come back. On this trip we’re trying to relive the same excitement. If life were a formula…we’d attempted to do all the things from our previous trip…taking pictures, playing Dog and the Bone, Kabbadi…a lil trek. But for some reason…it just isn’t as much fun as the last time. Formulas don’t work for real life.

 

We’re now sitting by the river. Dipping the bottle of warm Mountain Dew in the cold ripples of the Satluj. The water is so cold..that we’re bound to enjoy a cool beverage if we wait a while. The exact opposite is happening with the bottles of water that we’ve carried…that have frozen in the ice box! The water is frozen…so can’t be drunk…the mountain dew too warm. In time, they’ll both be just right.

 

To kill time we eat the junk food we’ve carried. Some chips and peanuts. This is no time to count calories. Carefully carrying back the wrappers with us. My cousins have a little spat and the boy takes some time out to go sit alone. It’s  my job to go get him. He comes. Minutes later he hits his sister like he often does. She cries. She’s consoled…the game is back on track. My aunt is sitting on a big rock. Her pink outfit against the dark rock. The digital camera and the zoom on it..is keeping her amused.

 

Then it happens. I ask Daisy, my cousin if she wants to chant here. By the river, in the open, under the blue sky…the sand beneath us. She agrees, a little more readily than I’d have imagined. Soon we’re all chanting….my cousins, my aunt and I. And it is amazing! I’ve never chanted in the open before this. Certainly not by the river with a rock face so big…that we feel ridiculously small. We’re down about a hundred feet from the main road. The sound of our chanting is very easily drowned by the roar of the river. No contest. But six heads, sitting upright with their hands clasped looking towards nothing…catches the attention of two truck drivers. They stand and watch for a few minutes. Amused, but not amused enough to stay too long. They decide to move along. So do we.

 

The trek back up is fantastic! We’re walking up a dried up waterfall. The rocks are amazing. The thorns are not. I have a few scratches on my legs. Some war wounds and blood stains to earn bragging right back home. We’ll all embellish our stories when we replay the incidents to my grandmum. And if you happen to hear this from my grandmum, don’t be surprised if there’s a crocodile thrown into this story for added effect!

 

I love it here. I really do. I’m so grateful that I get to take time off whenever I want. And that when I do, I have people to share it with. 

C for Cancer

One in 28 women has breast cancer.

Men can get breast cancer as well.

 Club that with the fact that all of us ALREADY have cancer cells in our body...and its enough to make you get seriously worried. In some people these cells mutate. In some others, they decide to not go through all that trouble. You can try the antioxidant diet, green tea, regular workouts and a thin frame...but it doesn't necessarily guarantee that the Big C won't catch you. 

Here's the good news though. For everyone one of these facts that had my brain working overtime...there was the reassuring smile of a Nigerian lady called Peace.We were shooting with her for one of our last episodes for the NDTV Good Times show. She's an ad film maker. A mother of two and had to break the news of her cancer to her family. ..As opposed to the other way around. It's been eleven months since she first noticed a lump on her breast and realized she was already on stage 3....today chemotherapy is over, her hair is growing back, she's considering a breast reconstruction surgery and is throwing a reeeeeeally big party when she goes back home. Her spirit will move you...and if that doesn't give you strength...really nothing else can!

Unfortunately for me, I'm a hypochondriac. If I hear of a new disease..I think I have it. My organs conspire with my brain to make me feel some severe pain in and around the organ that the disease attacks..and I'm instantly imagining the worst! You can imagine my surprise then, when I was listening to Peace...asking Dr Sarin, who's a cancer surgeon about how bad chemo is really..and telling myself...'its no cakewalk..but it doesn't mean the end'.

Really, as an anchor, this isn't a show I'm proud of. This show hasn't provided me with the opportunity to just be..and have a ball and use my mind. What it has done though...is teach me so much about medicine, see surgery..and get over the fear of these big fancy sounding diseases. I know that everything will always be fine with me and my body...but if shit hit does the fan...I know i have a mop ready!

....to new friends!

You travel alone to a new city, the trick though, is to leave with a lot of friends!

Sure, it means having to stretch out of your comfort zone a wee bit...but that's the thrill of it! My month long stay in Delhi has only been fun because of people I've met completely out of the blue! And when I was talking to a friend about all these new additions first to my phone book...and my life, we were quite amazed!

From a young french student who jumped in when I was ordering a juice by saying 'that one no...good..try pineapple....' to the coolest plastic surgeon in the country and his family ...that I so feel a part of, to an Afghani interpreter who volunteers with ailing patients explaining to doctors what they need, to an 18 year old pilot incidentally the youngest one for kingfisher airlines from Delhi (he got his flying license BEFORE his driver's license!!).....my trip has been so cool! 

I've had a gym friend who took me out till the wee hours just because I said Delhi was fuck boring....and by 3 am I was begging to be taken back to the hotel because it was all TOOOO alive for my taste! Can you imagine...if I hadn't been shooting, or gymming, or just buying juice...my path would never cross theirs and I'd never have learnt all the stuff that I have!

Here's what I reaaaaly like about meeting random people and making friends..See, if you and I were working together...we're thrown into a situation. We might get along great...or not. But that relationship (sweet or sour) comes out of that situation. It wasn't voluntary when it began. On the other hand..when you walk up to a total stranger and start a conversation...they have no obligation what-so-ever to continue the chat, humor you, or even keep in touch! Now, THAT'S what I love! Isn't it great to know that you can form a bond with just about anyone instantly....!

I love it. Think about it. It means you're ALWAYS surrounded by friends..you just dont know them yet!! Make it happen ;)

Brain surgery!

Watching someone's skull being cracked open isn't exactly dinner and a movie. But I'd pay good money to watch it happen! Now, before you hop, skip and jump to conclusions about me being a freak and what not...it's only fair I tell you why!

We're in the operating room at the Apollo hospital in New Delhi, and cool cat Dr. Rajendra Prasad is removing a tumor from a patient of his. We happen to be given access because we're shooting for a series called Apollo 11 for our friends at NDTV Good Times. And watching a grinder saw through a skull and the scalp being folded back to expose a squiggly mass called the brain, are just perks of the job! I'm surprised how my brain is reacting to seeing another one of its kind being worked on. I'm not shocked, unlike my producer... I'm not squeamish, I'm actually fascinated. 

The patient is face down on the operating table...his entire body covered in the green hospital cover, only part of his skull is exposed. And that perhaps the reason its so easy to leave your emotions in your back pocket while you simple stand, look in awe...and see how we've managed to understand our bodies so well...that we can actually fix these issues!

Here's the reason I took such liking to putting on a pair of scrubs and stepping into the OT from time to time and see wassup. For one thing we all associate surgeries with a lot of pain and discomfort. Sure it isn't exactly like a peck on a cheek, but the pain isn't as bad (or as horrible) as one might imagine. And that idea was reiterated each time we ran into a patient after the operation and they were roaming around like nothing big really happened! Sure, none of us want these things to happen...but if shit does hit the roof.....bring out the vacuum cleaner, and head to the hospital. 

It's only brain surgery afterall, not rocket science! ;)