The Surgery

So basically, I got that ligament reconstruction – menisectomy surgery done. The surgery which is supposed to fix my leg? Yea, that one.

This post? This post is the result of the boredom, pain, and irritation caused by laying down, without moving my leg, for too long. :P

Oh well, I'm not sure if I have the right to complain though, I mean, this IS the treatment for my leg right?So I really don't know if I'm allowed to complain, :P. But that thought doesn't really stop me from saying, “Goddamn, it hurts. :/”.

The surgery was a success. And it wasn't helped by the fact that I was conscious for the entire thing. :P The anesthesiologist (at least, that's what I think they're called) who was a resident, was kind enough to talk to me during the damned thing and I on the other hand, was kind enough to bug her with my questions. “How long does this thing last normally?” “Can this bed take my weight?” “Am I irritating you?” and at one point of time, I really wanted to ask, “What's your name?” :P. In my defence, she DID look good. :)

Oh well, so after the anesthesiologist tried to put me to sleep, failing miserably, and finally deciding that there was no use of giving me any more sedatives; the surgeon finally proclaimed that he had done his job and could now rightfully claim the five or six digit fee that he charged just to cut open my knee. (I'm sorry, I was a little more concerned about the anesthesiologist rather than how much the surgeon's fee was. :P)

Yes, she looked THAT good. :)

So that was that, and next thing I know, I was being wheeled out of the operation theater so that it could be made ready for the next 5 or 6 digit-fee-paying-victim that the surgeon had set his sights upon. I was taken to the 'Recovery Room', funny they should call it that, I didn't feel like I had recovered at all in that hell-hole. It was all groans and moans of pain around me and an occasional pat on the shoulder from the doctor who had the bad luck to be supervising that room that day. “Don't worry son”, he said, and added after that “You'll be better in no time!”. Well, it's been 2 weeks, and I'll be damned if I did recover yet. :P

Well, I guess that's how doctors work, they promise you that everything's going to be ok, even when they know, as sure as I know that I'm too tall to fit into any of those Guwahati buses, that things are NOT going to be ok. :| Even the doc back in Guwahati, when she first saw my face, and I asked her if it was bad, (I've been getting good at asking stupid questions lately. :P), she said that it was quite minor. Only later did I realise that about half of my face was bruised and bleeding. :D

But, after everything, they DO try their best. And even though they do try their best, I've realised something. (And this is one of those moments when I share a little of my immense knowledge with you :P) I realised that what they do, is like mending cracks in a wall. No one can replace the wall, what one CAN do is, just try to cover up the cracks, and hope that they don't come up again.

Oh well, here's hoping that the cracks that I have, aren't too big or deep. :)

Ciao,
JBY

Today's song: “Canon in D major” by Palchebel

"What I was, and what I am". The writings of a younger me.

This was up on Facebook until now. Thought I'd put it up here :)

What I was, And What I am.

I used to live a life
I used a live a dream
People used to look up to me
And some even envied me...

Now Im lost and hopeless
Trying to find a way
Its amazing that I'm still trying
When others faith would have given way

I used to smile a smile
I had a laugh that made thunder shy
People now wonder
What it is that makes me cry

Little do they realize
What they have done
They've used and thrown me aside
Like a half eaten bun

I used to have friends
I used to have foes
Now I don't know who is who
And have lost faith in my own home

I used to have you by my side
To support and care for me
Now you seem to have disappeared
Caring more about what they think than me

I used to be loved
I used to be adored
Now Ive been thrown aside by you
Coz now you have no need for me

Dont you see that I'm not wrong?
Dont you see that I've not sinned?
Ive been paying for your selfish needs
And your every whim

You care more of what others think
Not giving heed to my words
I'm doin what I know is right I say!
But when no one stands by me....I'm like a flightless bird

I've had my fill
Whats done is done
Is it that you don't care??
Or is it that I ain't a "someone"

But I'm telling everyone of you
That I'll still be there for each one
I'll stay here till you understand
That for me, your a special one

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

I now live my life
I'm now gonna live a dream
People will look up to me
and some will envy me

I was once, lost and helpless
Was trying to find a way
Its amazing that I tried so much
When others faith would have given way

I now smile a smile
I have a laugh that makes thunder shy
People now wonder
what it is that makes me smile

I used to have friends
I used to have foes
Now i know who is who
And have faith in my own home

I no longer care
What others think and do
Because, today?
It is I, who rule...

Cooking 101

Today was “The Day” people. The day I walked into the kitchen with an intention different from that of eating. The day I never believed that would come.

Today, my friends, was the day my mom decided to teach me how to cook.

Out of all the things I could expect that my parents were going to teach me, this was the most unexpected one. :P

“Driving”, or “Reading Telugu”, or even “Laundry” for all I care, were definitely above “Cooking” on the list. And yes, all those fears of burning afternoon lunch, or frying a curry into a black crisp….

They were for good reason.


Cooking’s no art, and no, it’s not a science either. It’s magic, that’s what it is. I mean, the way my mom literally just jerked the pan, and the paratha just did a 180 degree flip and landed, exactly where it was supposed to land. Or the way she just chopped a whole cabbage into mere pieces in a matter of seconds, THAT my friends, is something even Wolverine or Freddy Krueger (Nightmare on Elm Street), would be proud of. :P Or even the way she turned a mush of various items and a bowl of rice into amazing(trust me, AMAZING) biryani.

That my friends, is what she said I would be able to do if I kept practising.

Glee?
Not so much. :P

But what I don’t get is how I’d be able to THAT, when all I was able to do today was cut the rest of the cabbage that my mom, so kindly, left for me. And lets not forget to mention that I cut it like a surgeon would cut open a guy’s chest with utmost precision. And yet, my mom felt that the damn pieces were too big. (To be fair, I merely thought I’d have to open my mouth a bit wider while eating. :P)

But yes, today’s day in the kitchen? Not so bad I must say. I didn’t burn the afternoon lunch, nor did I fry anything to a black crisp. (Toast doesn’t count ok? The damn timer was broken :P)

And most importantly, the fact to remember today is that I walked out of the kitchen alive!
(Seriously, there are enough tools in there to fatally injure someone.)

So yes,

Heres wishing that I’ll learn how to make a paratha do a 180 degree flip.


Ciao. :)