Saturday, April 29, 2006
:-(
Some wounds I feel are too deep to ever heal. They are caused by breach of strong barriers of love, trust or faith. Time and space do nothing to balm them. They keep festering and they infect happiness and peace of mind. You keep pretending it’s not there but life has changed because of it. You try to keep it at bay so you can function normally but with each attempt it advances, gets taller and taller, until one day like a tidal wave nothing would hold it back. What if it engulfed me someday? How do I fight something so painful yet so strong?
Alma mater - 2
The predominant colors in KMC were white or pink.White because of the sea of aprons and pink salwars were the uniform for nursing students.Aprons were an object of pride for each and every student.It is what one wore most of the times over there.The only time the campus burst into colors was during weekends and holiday.I loved my apron too.Every morning as I got ready to leave for my department,I would spend a good 5 minutes and make a ritual of wearing my apron.It was like donning on another role,a different attribute.It made me feel very professional and important.Very responsible and serious.
But all that started only from the second year.First year had only theory classes and most professors never insisted we wear aprons in class.Which they should have because it would have been easier for me to hide my novels and comics,that I read during the class.We really had some classic cuckoos for professors.Every student would probably say that about their faculty but KMC has a reputation for it.First year classes were never boring simply because of these eccentric educators.
The anatomy department,I think,by far,had the greatest share of these fruitcakes,followed closely by physiology and biochemistry.Our histology professor always walked in late and walked in teaching.He would be 5 paces from the door when one could hear him say..."so students the connective tissue capsule of the liver divides it into lobules and each lobule is hexagonal and forms the structural unit of the liver".Could you blame us for missing out on this vital introductory information about the liver??For heaven sake he was on the other side of the door and his flutey voice which desperately tried to get its share of attention was drowned by all the raucous we were creating inside. Then he would step in ominously and silence would spread like a layer of snow.He always had this habit that when he walked into class,he would throw 2 students out.It didn't matter if they didn't deserve it.When he came in,2 lucky souls went out.Some wierd archimedes adaptation I guess.
Then there was another professor who taught the walls.More like the ceiling at the back of the class.He would point to it,wag his finger purposefully and never look anywhere else.No wonder they say KMC is enriched what with our professors inlaying the walls with their lessons.And when he had to pull up a student for misbehaving,he would again look at the ceiling,point to it and say "you there,get up and get out".Quite a dilemma it was for us to figure out who he was talking about.One day this classmate of mine actually got up and said "sir he left the class" even though the student hadn't.He figured since the professor wasn't looking,he wouldn't know eitherways.
Oh!I almost forgot this other anatomy professor who was terribly temperamental and full of issues.The class would go on normally when suddenly he would get into a fit." I hate the NRI students and Iranians" he would say.Shocking!!What he never realised was that we had a 40year old, double PhD, Iranian student in our class.This guy couldn't tolerate it anymore and one day he stood up,mustered all his Iranian anger together and spewed it on the professor and marched out.We never saw him again.
Like I said the Physiology and Biochemistry Prof.s where just a hair breadth behind.Their traits and stories would get covered in some other blog entry.On the whole 1st year was tremendously entertaining.When we got back from our vacation into 2nd year we were still sporting and fivolous, not too bothered about anything, until we donned on our aprons.That was when we realised that our subjects were vast and deep.It was interesting,fun yet serious.Might sound dramatic but those aprons elevated us.
But all that started only from the second year.First year had only theory classes and most professors never insisted we wear aprons in class.Which they should have because it would have been easier for me to hide my novels and comics,that I read during the class.We really had some classic cuckoos for professors.Every student would probably say that about their faculty but KMC has a reputation for it.First year classes were never boring simply because of these eccentric educators.
The anatomy department,I think,by far,had the greatest share of these fruitcakes,followed closely by physiology and biochemistry.Our histology professor always walked in late and walked in teaching.He would be 5 paces from the door when one could hear him say..."so students the connective tissue capsule of the liver divides it into lobules and each lobule is hexagonal and forms the structural unit of the liver".Could you blame us for missing out on this vital introductory information about the liver??For heaven sake he was on the other side of the door and his flutey voice which desperately tried to get its share of attention was drowned by all the raucous we were creating inside. Then he would step in ominously and silence would spread like a layer of snow.He always had this habit that when he walked into class,he would throw 2 students out.It didn't matter if they didn't deserve it.When he came in,2 lucky souls went out.Some wierd archimedes adaptation I guess.
Then there was another professor who taught the walls.More like the ceiling at the back of the class.He would point to it,wag his finger purposefully and never look anywhere else.No wonder they say KMC is enriched what with our professors inlaying the walls with their lessons.And when he had to pull up a student for misbehaving,he would again look at the ceiling,point to it and say "you there,get up and get out".Quite a dilemma it was for us to figure out who he was talking about.One day this classmate of mine actually got up and said "sir he left the class" even though the student hadn't.He figured since the professor wasn't looking,he wouldn't know eitherways.
Oh!I almost forgot this other anatomy professor who was terribly temperamental and full of issues.The class would go on normally when suddenly he would get into a fit." I hate the NRI students and Iranians" he would say.Shocking!!What he never realised was that we had a 40year old, double PhD, Iranian student in our class.This guy couldn't tolerate it anymore and one day he stood up,mustered all his Iranian anger together and spewed it on the professor and marched out.We never saw him again.
Like I said the Physiology and Biochemistry Prof.s where just a hair breadth behind.Their traits and stories would get covered in some other blog entry.On the whole 1st year was tremendously entertaining.When we got back from our vacation into 2nd year we were still sporting and fivolous, not too bothered about anything, until we donned on our aprons.That was when we realised that our subjects were vast and deep.It was interesting,fun yet serious.Might sound dramatic but those aprons elevated us.
Sunday, April 23, 2006
Soups up!
I was making some soup the other day.Ofcourse the way I made it,the only definition soup could have is that it has loads of water in it.Not that it tasted bad.I threw in loads of butter,basil and thyme,so they saved the dish.But I doubt very much if one could find such a recipe in any cook book.I walked into the kitchen with a determined look,put on my apron very meticulously,looked about one last time,took a deep breath and after that point everything was complete mayhem.
This is the way I made my soup.I took a pot(ok...pan if you are so particular about cullinary normenclature) and boiled some water.Then I swung my hands around like a windmill and whatever they touched went into the soup. :-D
Well and why not?I am sure all of you have read that story called "Stone soup".For those of you who spent their childhood bereft of stories like these,here is a quick summary....
This soldier or some hungry bloke walked up to a cottage.He knocked on its door and was greeted by a mean old lady(one didnt know she was mean till the middle of the story but since I took the trouble of reading it,I am informing you right at the beginning,so you don't really have to look at her in a favorable light) .He asked her for some food and she turned him down.So he decided to teach this stingy woman a lesson and told her if she could give him a pot,a stone and some water,he would make some stone soup for himself.As she was very curious she gave him what he asked for.....look basically what happens is,he tricks her into giving him lots of yummy ingredients,one by one and makes a delicious hot soup right in front of her eyes and she never realises he fooled her......phew!!these recaps are tiring!!
Oh and by the way just some random fact :According to Portuguese tradition, the events described in the "stone soup" tale took place around Almeirim, Portugal. To this day, there's hardly a restaurant in Almeirim which doesn't serve stone soup
The point is...I loved that story everytime I read it.It was a mouth watering tale for a perpetually hungry child like me.I imagined the soup with lots of melting butter,fleshy soft mushrooms,scrumptious amounts of colorful vegetables.It always tasted different with every reading.Soups were an adventure for me.There were so many varieties.Some hot,some cold,some clear,some creamy.
I feel when it comes to soups,there are no rules(ofcourse i know someone who believes that this logic applies to life in general.I disagree but thats a topic we'll cover some other day).Its a case of laissez faire.Do what you want.As long as the pot of water is bubbling away anything goes.I used to watch this cookery show called Floyd in France.He would agree through and through with my soup logic.All his dishes were an almalgamation.He threw in loads of vegetables,every kind of meat and buckets of wine.His soup recipes looked ambrosial.Those episodes were my first lessons to some free-spirited cooking.
So it was that my plat du jour was just plain steaming soup yet a unique concoction,a ghoulash.
This is the way I made my soup.I took a pot(ok...pan if you are so particular about cullinary normenclature) and boiled some water.Then I swung my hands around like a windmill and whatever they touched went into the soup. :-D
Well and why not?I am sure all of you have read that story called "Stone soup".For those of you who spent their childhood bereft of stories like these,here is a quick summary....
This soldier or some hungry bloke walked up to a cottage.He knocked on its door and was greeted by a mean old lady(one didnt know she was mean till the middle of the story but since I took the trouble of reading it,I am informing you right at the beginning,so you don't really have to look at her in a favorable light) .He asked her for some food and she turned him down.So he decided to teach this stingy woman a lesson and told her if she could give him a pot,a stone and some water,he would make some stone soup for himself.As she was very curious she gave him what he asked for.....look basically what happens is,he tricks her into giving him lots of yummy ingredients,one by one and makes a delicious hot soup right in front of her eyes and she never realises he fooled her......phew!!these recaps are tiring!!
Oh and by the way just some random fact :According to Portuguese tradition, the events described in the "stone soup" tale took place around Almeirim, Portugal. To this day, there's hardly a restaurant in Almeirim which doesn't serve stone soup
The point is...I loved that story everytime I read it.It was a mouth watering tale for a perpetually hungry child like me.I imagined the soup with lots of melting butter,fleshy soft mushrooms,scrumptious amounts of colorful vegetables.It always tasted different with every reading.Soups were an adventure for me.There were so many varieties.Some hot,some cold,some clear,some creamy.
I feel when it comes to soups,there are no rules(ofcourse i know someone who believes that this logic applies to life in general.I disagree but thats a topic we'll cover some other day).Its a case of laissez faire.Do what you want.As long as the pot of water is bubbling away anything goes.I used to watch this cookery show called Floyd in France.He would agree through and through with my soup logic.All his dishes were an almalgamation.He threw in loads of vegetables,every kind of meat and buckets of wine.His soup recipes looked ambrosial.Those episodes were my first lessons to some free-spirited cooking.
So it was that my plat du jour was just plain steaming soup yet a unique concoction,a ghoulash.
Monday, April 17, 2006
Sunday, April 16, 2006
Alma mater - 1
I loved my masters program in Manipal.It was my first experience in a professional institution and to hostel life.KMC campus is sprawling and beautiful.Although most of the architectural designs cater to the taste of NRI's,there still remains some old silent stone buildings,standing tall and proud as witness to years of progressing medical science.When I saw the campus for the first time,I thought I would definitely get lost(which I promptly did).See...the less said about my navigation and orientation skills,the better!!
MAHE loves building fountains everywhere and lots of them were built the year I joined.Over here I must mention that what MAHE hasnt realised is that they aren't too good at building fountains.They leak.So the architect comes up with the bright idea of laying a lawn around it to soak up the leaking water.This fountain now degraded to a common garden sprinkler experiences its first set back in life.Why?Because the lawn laid is at a very low level and the leaking water mutinously flows over the lawn and all over the campus.Now our architect comes up with the brilliant idea of setting up some drains around it,raising walls,and buildings.So you see,what started of as a beutiful bubbler is reduced to something akin a municipality pipe.There is a general opinion among the students that quite a lot of MAHE was built only to prevent a fountains from leaking.
But don't run away with a wrong impression.The campus inspite of its minor flows...err..flaws still is beautiful.I loved the library.In any medical college the library becomes second home.If we werent in class,we were in the library.Not always to study mind you.That didnt get done too much.It was a place where friends met,shared millions of cups of coffee,billions of hours of gossip,lots more hours of sleep and very few hours of actually studying.When I joined we were still using the old library.It had high ceilings,rows upon rows of desks and chairs,heavily grilled windows that wouldnt allow a wad of gum to pass through and plenty of fans,all of which worked at the same speed creating a sedative,calming,creaking noise.
I love the smell of old books.I always felt very smart when I entered the library not because I knew too much off the books but simply because there was so much knowledge around me.50 years worth collection of books,hundreds of thesis and desertations all proof of inquisitive,eager minds wanting to leave their first mark in this field,surrounded me.There were so many racks for books of all subjects,journals,back volumes of journals that took up almost an entire floor.The top shelves of several racks and sometimes entire racks hidden in the deepest corner of the library never got dusted.So years of dust and intricate cobwebs collected on them.It transformed into an enotmologist's paradise.
The source of lighting was several tubelights.It gave the library sufficient light,but during monsoons it was cold and eerie,silent like a tomb,the sounds of occasional hushed whispers,pages ruffling.Maybe I imagined too much out of it.I dont really know.I liked the older library for several reasons.It was homely,it had a history that gave me the confidence that I could march on too.It had lovely wooden furniture all of which had been carved over the years by students and I could spend hours reading all the messages on them.It made me feel proud that I was a part of the lineage that churned out excellent medical personnels.I have spent countless hours picking out books from forgotten racks and pouring over them by the faint light that washed over me.
Then towards my final year they built the grandiose MAHE building.A treat for newcomers and NRI's but for an old timer like me it was a loss of heritage.This building had the new library called "the science building" I think.As they closed down the old one I trudged into this one.It was a huge monstrous thing,exteriors made of glass,like all those software companies you see in Bangalore nowadays.Centrally airconditioned,entirely computerised.I felt like a country mouse walking into it.There were cubicles in them with colorful plastic chairs!!!oh my god!what fun is a library if you can't see your neighbors face,if you can't see how everyone else is equally struggling over their lessons as you are,if you can't make faces at your friend at the other table because you are getting bored studying grey's anatomy??
Everything was new.Nothing looked the same,smelt the same or felt the same.Even the books had new covers on them.The racks were shining and spotlessly clean.The silence here wasn't comfortable,it weighed down on me.Suddenly there were too many new faces to be seen.Where were all these people in the older library?or maybe I was so deeply hidden in its heart that I never noticed anyone else.
You know.....changes aren't so bad afterall.I hated the new library at first.I hated its pseudo atmosphere.I hated that artificial air from coolers around me.But with time it seemed ok.This library was meant for serious studying (I needed to get a lot of that done as I was in my final year).It was meant to encourage focussed learning.It was a building which admitted people with serious goals and made sure they achieved it.Now,as I look back,I am glad that changes were made and I moved on with it.I achieved what I set out for that year.I topped my class.
MAHE loves building fountains everywhere and lots of them were built the year I joined.Over here I must mention that what MAHE hasnt realised is that they aren't too good at building fountains.They leak.So the architect comes up with the bright idea of laying a lawn around it to soak up the leaking water.This fountain now degraded to a common garden sprinkler experiences its first set back in life.Why?Because the lawn laid is at a very low level and the leaking water mutinously flows over the lawn and all over the campus.Now our architect comes up with the brilliant idea of setting up some drains around it,raising walls,and buildings.So you see,what started of as a beutiful bubbler is reduced to something akin a municipality pipe.There is a general opinion among the students that quite a lot of MAHE was built only to prevent a fountains from leaking.
But don't run away with a wrong impression.The campus inspite of its minor flows...err..flaws still is beautiful.I loved the library.In any medical college the library becomes second home.If we werent in class,we were in the library.Not always to study mind you.That didnt get done too much.It was a place where friends met,shared millions of cups of coffee,billions of hours of gossip,lots more hours of sleep and very few hours of actually studying.When I joined we were still using the old library.It had high ceilings,rows upon rows of desks and chairs,heavily grilled windows that wouldnt allow a wad of gum to pass through and plenty of fans,all of which worked at the same speed creating a sedative,calming,creaking noise.
I love the smell of old books.I always felt very smart when I entered the library not because I knew too much off the books but simply because there was so much knowledge around me.50 years worth collection of books,hundreds of thesis and desertations all proof of inquisitive,eager minds wanting to leave their first mark in this field,surrounded me.There were so many racks for books of all subjects,journals,back volumes of journals that took up almost an entire floor.The top shelves of several racks and sometimes entire racks hidden in the deepest corner of the library never got dusted.So years of dust and intricate cobwebs collected on them.It transformed into an enotmologist's paradise.
The source of lighting was several tubelights.It gave the library sufficient light,but during monsoons it was cold and eerie,silent like a tomb,the sounds of occasional hushed whispers,pages ruffling.Maybe I imagined too much out of it.I dont really know.I liked the older library for several reasons.It was homely,it had a history that gave me the confidence that I could march on too.It had lovely wooden furniture all of which had been carved over the years by students and I could spend hours reading all the messages on them.It made me feel proud that I was a part of the lineage that churned out excellent medical personnels.I have spent countless hours picking out books from forgotten racks and pouring over them by the faint light that washed over me.
Then towards my final year they built the grandiose MAHE building.A treat for newcomers and NRI's but for an old timer like me it was a loss of heritage.This building had the new library called "the science building" I think.As they closed down the old one I trudged into this one.It was a huge monstrous thing,exteriors made of glass,like all those software companies you see in Bangalore nowadays.Centrally airconditioned,entirely computerised.I felt like a country mouse walking into it.There were cubicles in them with colorful plastic chairs!!!oh my god!what fun is a library if you can't see your neighbors face,if you can't see how everyone else is equally struggling over their lessons as you are,if you can't make faces at your friend at the other table because you are getting bored studying grey's anatomy??
Everything was new.Nothing looked the same,smelt the same or felt the same.Even the books had new covers on them.The racks were shining and spotlessly clean.The silence here wasn't comfortable,it weighed down on me.Suddenly there were too many new faces to be seen.Where were all these people in the older library?or maybe I was so deeply hidden in its heart that I never noticed anyone else.
You know.....changes aren't so bad afterall.I hated the new library at first.I hated its pseudo atmosphere.I hated that artificial air from coolers around me.But with time it seemed ok.This library was meant for serious studying (I needed to get a lot of that done as I was in my final year).It was meant to encourage focussed learning.It was a building which admitted people with serious goals and made sure they achieved it.Now,as I look back,I am glad that changes were made and I moved on with it.I achieved what I set out for that year.I topped my class.
Thursday, April 13, 2006
Auguries of innocence
To see the world in a grain of sand,
and heaven in a wild flower,
to hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
and eternity in an hour.......
My favorite lines written by William Blake from his Auguries of innocence I don't think I've read any other poetry written so brilliantly as these 4 lines.Its simple, yet a wonderful thought.
and heaven in a wild flower,
to hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
and eternity in an hour.......
My favorite lines written by William Blake from his Auguries of innocence I don't think I've read any other poetry written so brilliantly as these 4 lines.Its simple, yet a wonderful thought.
Fide et amore
Why do we love someone so much that a life without them seems frozen and pointless?Why do some people come into our lives,change it beyond recognition and leave before we are ready to let go?What are we supposed to gain from all the hurt and disappointments?To fall in love with someone is a miracle.To be with someone who loves you too is a blessing.
I believe love teaches us that there is so much in life that we cannot control.That we can only be patient and wait.That we have to accept hurt as a part of loving and be grateful we got to experience that too.It is so difficult to get up from the ruins of our hopes and dreams and move ahead.It takes so much effort to change the way we think and feel.There are so many moments in love that can never be forgotten.How do we hold on to these memories and yet prevent them from hurting us?
Everyone tells you life must go on.You get so caught up with mundane things,but its such a farce really.What does it alter?Nothing.It doesn't change the past,it doesnt change whats built your present.But then amidst all that hoplessness,I still believe in god and fate.I believe in happiness and love even if it has eluded me.What has to be mine will come my way.So I walk on with just pure faith.....
I believe love teaches us that there is so much in life that we cannot control.That we can only be patient and wait.That we have to accept hurt as a part of loving and be grateful we got to experience that too.It is so difficult to get up from the ruins of our hopes and dreams and move ahead.It takes so much effort to change the way we think and feel.There are so many moments in love that can never be forgotten.How do we hold on to these memories and yet prevent them from hurting us?
Everyone tells you life must go on.You get so caught up with mundane things,but its such a farce really.What does it alter?Nothing.It doesn't change the past,it doesnt change whats built your present.But then amidst all that hoplessness,I still believe in god and fate.I believe in happiness and love even if it has eluded me.What has to be mine will come my way.So I walk on with just pure faith.....
Monday, April 10, 2006
Animal Crackers
Fred Wagner is the creator of the comic strip called Animal Crackers.I love his work because the animals are witty,"civilised",the humor is gentle and whimsical.The animals are from the Freeborn wildlife reserve,situated deep in the heart of Africa.
Thursday, April 06, 2006
Bhagavad Gita
These are some of my favorite lines from the Bhagavad Gita.
Karman eva adhikaras te
--you have the power to act only
ma phalesu kadachana
--you do not have the power to influence the result
ma karmaphal hetur bhoo
--therefore you must act without the anticipation of the result
ma sangostu akarmani
--without succumbing to inaction
Wednesday, April 05, 2006
James blunt
I heard James blunt for the first time on the Oprah winfrey show.Back to bedlam is his debut album and well...I have very mixed feelings about these songs by an ex-cavalryman who exchaged his "rifle for a guitar".They are very obviously melancholy,highly emotional and quite poetic but a little too much of him and you will wonder if this dirge and whining would ever stop.I quite liked "beautiful" and "goodbye my lover".
Apparently people of these three catagories would do well not to vernture into his album.
1. You've just finished with your boyfriend/girlfriend
2. Someone in you family etc has just died
3. You are depressed or are a depressive person
On the whole he is unique,soulful but frankly should be heard in moderate doses.
Here are a few lines from the song -goodbye my lover:
Did I disappoint you or let you down?
Should I be feeling guilty or let the judges frown?
'Cause I saw the end before we'd begun,
Yes I saw you were blinded and I knew I had won.
So I took what's mine by eternal right.
Took your soul out into the night.
It may be over but it won't stop there,
I am here for you if you'd only care.
You touched my heart you touched my soul.
You changed my life and all my goals.
....And I still hold your hand in mine
In mine when I'm asleep.
And I will bear my soul in time,
When I'm kneeling at your feet.
Goodbye my lover.
Goodbye my friend.
You have been the one.
You have been the one for me.
I'm so hollow, baby, I'm so hollow
.I'm so, I'm so, I'm so hollow.
Well...I guess you get the idea about the overtly sentimental lyrics.
Apparently people of these three catagories would do well not to vernture into his album.
1. You've just finished with your boyfriend/girlfriend
2. Someone in you family etc has just died
3. You are depressed or are a depressive person
On the whole he is unique,soulful but frankly should be heard in moderate doses.
Here are a few lines from the song -goodbye my lover:
Did I disappoint you or let you down?
Should I be feeling guilty or let the judges frown?
'Cause I saw the end before we'd begun,
Yes I saw you were blinded and I knew I had won.
So I took what's mine by eternal right.
Took your soul out into the night.
It may be over but it won't stop there,
I am here for you if you'd only care.
You touched my heart you touched my soul.
You changed my life and all my goals.
....And I still hold your hand in mine
In mine when I'm asleep.
And I will bear my soul in time,
When I'm kneeling at your feet.
Goodbye my lover.
Goodbye my friend.
You have been the one.
You have been the one for me.
I'm so hollow, baby, I'm so hollow
.I'm so, I'm so, I'm so hollow.
Well...I guess you get the idea about the overtly sentimental lyrics.
Monday, April 03, 2006
Les chats!
Two of my friends have started a blog on cats.I was asked to join their group because it's open for all cat lovers everywhere.This set me thinking.Would I go so far as to call myself a cat lover?
My first exposure to cats was at my grandmother's place.She stays in a small town called Kumbakonam,situated 1hr away from Tanjore in Tamil nadu.The house is almost more than a century old or as my uncle would say 100BC( thats hundred years before cement).The house is open in all sense.Its got thatched roofing,lots of doors connecting every room to every other,few walls and a huge garden.The doors are open from 5 in the morning till 11 at night and after a point no one monitors the traffic that passes through the house,be it humans or animals.
We've always had lots of pets.They are mostly cows but the list also includes dogs (our regular Bharat hounds,if I may say) who've found the hay stack very comfortable to sleep on,cats who've found all the nooks and corners cozy enough to litter plus they get a surplus supply of mice and rats,assorted goats who are transient but regular pets.They breeze in every morning,meander through the garden,graze to their hearts content and walk out through the back gate,unless ofcourse they are shooed midway because they have been caught chomping important plants.I could never leave out the representatives of class Insecta that inhabit our house too...but I am digressing here.Let me get back to my point.
So we were talking about cats.My first impression of a cat was that of a scrawny creature,skulking around the house suspiciously,jumping across roof tops,meowing pathetically and always littering under the cupboards beyond our reach.Ours was or rather still is a typical brahmin household.So naturally our cats are forced to have brahmin food.Just an innocent bowl of milk and some cooked rice.Eggs,fish and cat food was unheard of in our house.Now as I look back,I wonder how those poor things survived on that meagre diet,but they did and pretty decently at that.I guess they supplemented it with several mice,birds and unsuspecting lizards.
I never really liked cats back then.I found them mean,calculating,sly...well..."catty" creatures.They never came when I called.They weren't interested in playing.They weren't interested in pleasing me or showing their affection.They just skulked about all the time.This was in stark contrast to our dogs who were always hyperactive,involved in our lives and left their impression on us everyday(literally they did,you should see some of the paw prints still seen on my clothes after several washes).
This opinion stayed with me right through my Pre-university days till I met my friend's cat.Yasmin had 24 cats and 2 german sheperds when I knew her then.Going to her house and meeting so many of her pets for the first time was a great experience for me. 24 cats!!!Can you ever imagine such a huge number?!My grandmother's house is huge and sprawling but I have seen 2,maybe 3 feline members at any point.She lives in an apartment so,I had calculated 1 cat for every 10 tile or something on those lines.
When I actually saw her cats,what hit me was their size.They were gigantic and there is simply no other word to explain them.Each one was the size of a 4month old labrador pup(for those of you who are clueless...thats size XXXXXXXL for a cat).The next thing that hit me was their color.Each on of those cats had the most unique coloring I have ever seen so far.Isis the siamese had a deep grey-brown,almost metallic color with black paws and rich blue eyes.Yasmin has old,victorian,dark brown,solid mahogony furniture and I saw Isis sitting atop the chest of drawers the first time.Actually most of her was camouflaged and only her 2 blue eyes shone out radiantly amidst all that brown.I can never forget that picture even after all these years.Then I walked into the kitchen and saw Applepie.Look,if Isis was big,Applepie was a blue whale of cats.I never saw much of the kitchen beyond him that day. Cats spilt from every inch of her house.They were there on the sofas,on table tops,inside cupboards,curled up in the bathroom sink,on the terrace garden,on top of the fridge,in the verranda,on their beds.
I went back to her place again and again.To me it was a retreat,it was unbelievable.Initially most of her cats were weary of me.They glared from a distance and sniffed condescendingly. They sidled along the wall,apparently interested but way too haughty to show it.This drama continued till yasmin plucked one enroute to the kitchen and threw it on my lap.I think it was Applepie although I don't quite remember clearly.Ouch!He was heavy.Kindly recall the reference to the blue whale in the previous para,its an apt description.He was soft,fluffy and irresistable.It took him a moment to adjust to the change of terrain but he settled on my lap quickly and started to purr.Purr would be a understatement here,they were loud rumbles.I was always of this opinion that applepie could be used for those vibration therapies.Put him on the clients back,let him rumble all day and the client walks away all relaxed and cured.
Anyways,initially I only loved the tom cats because they are like pups.They are innocent,dumb,scruffy,helpless and vulnerable.They are ready to be lifted and cuddled.They don't see it as an insult to their dignity to jump on my lap or come to me when I call.Try calling a female and you will be quelled by a stony,superior look.But over time I saw them in a different light.The females are more level headed,they dont run to you on an impulse.They observe and judge you for days before they decide if you are worth their company and if you do get that ticket into her world then its a bond made for life.She dotes on you,mothers you,sleeps beside you while you are sick,sits by you when you are sad and shows her affection in a million innovative ways.
Coming back to that question which started all this narrative....would I go so far as to call myself a cat lover?Well,it really is a complex question.Cats are like a never ending lesson.Just when you have decided,this is all there is to know about them and with this knowledge you could decide if you love them or not...they exhibit another phenominal dimension that throws you off track. They are an enigma,an unsolvable mystery.I don't know if I could love all cats but I know I shall always be intrigued by them.
My first exposure to cats was at my grandmother's place.She stays in a small town called Kumbakonam,situated 1hr away from Tanjore in Tamil nadu.The house is almost more than a century old or as my uncle would say 100BC( thats hundred years before cement).The house is open in all sense.Its got thatched roofing,lots of doors connecting every room to every other,few walls and a huge garden.The doors are open from 5 in the morning till 11 at night and after a point no one monitors the traffic that passes through the house,be it humans or animals.
We've always had lots of pets.They are mostly cows but the list also includes dogs (our regular Bharat hounds,if I may say) who've found the hay stack very comfortable to sleep on,cats who've found all the nooks and corners cozy enough to litter plus they get a surplus supply of mice and rats,assorted goats who are transient but regular pets.They breeze in every morning,meander through the garden,graze to their hearts content and walk out through the back gate,unless ofcourse they are shooed midway because they have been caught chomping important plants.I could never leave out the representatives of class Insecta that inhabit our house too...but I am digressing here.Let me get back to my point.
So we were talking about cats.My first impression of a cat was that of a scrawny creature,skulking around the house suspiciously,jumping across roof tops,meowing pathetically and always littering under the cupboards beyond our reach.Ours was or rather still is a typical brahmin household.So naturally our cats are forced to have brahmin food.Just an innocent bowl of milk and some cooked rice.Eggs,fish and cat food was unheard of in our house.Now as I look back,I wonder how those poor things survived on that meagre diet,but they did and pretty decently at that.I guess they supplemented it with several mice,birds and unsuspecting lizards.
I never really liked cats back then.I found them mean,calculating,sly...well..."catty" creatures.They never came when I called.They weren't interested in playing.They weren't interested in pleasing me or showing their affection.They just skulked about all the time.This was in stark contrast to our dogs who were always hyperactive,involved in our lives and left their impression on us everyday(literally they did,you should see some of the paw prints still seen on my clothes after several washes).
This opinion stayed with me right through my Pre-university days till I met my friend's cat.Yasmin had 24 cats and 2 german sheperds when I knew her then.Going to her house and meeting so many of her pets for the first time was a great experience for me. 24 cats!!!Can you ever imagine such a huge number?!My grandmother's house is huge and sprawling but I have seen 2,maybe 3 feline members at any point.She lives in an apartment so,I had calculated 1 cat for every 10 tile or something on those lines.
When I actually saw her cats,what hit me was their size.They were gigantic and there is simply no other word to explain them.Each one was the size of a 4month old labrador pup(for those of you who are clueless...thats size XXXXXXXL for a cat).The next thing that hit me was their color.Each on of those cats had the most unique coloring I have ever seen so far.Isis the siamese had a deep grey-brown,almost metallic color with black paws and rich blue eyes.Yasmin has old,victorian,dark brown,solid mahogony furniture and I saw Isis sitting atop the chest of drawers the first time.Actually most of her was camouflaged and only her 2 blue eyes shone out radiantly amidst all that brown.I can never forget that picture even after all these years.Then I walked into the kitchen and saw Applepie.Look,if Isis was big,Applepie was a blue whale of cats.I never saw much of the kitchen beyond him that day. Cats spilt from every inch of her house.They were there on the sofas,on table tops,inside cupboards,curled up in the bathroom sink,on the terrace garden,on top of the fridge,in the verranda,on their beds.
I went back to her place again and again.To me it was a retreat,it was unbelievable.Initially most of her cats were weary of me.They glared from a distance and sniffed condescendingly. They sidled along the wall,apparently interested but way too haughty to show it.This drama continued till yasmin plucked one enroute to the kitchen and threw it on my lap.I think it was Applepie although I don't quite remember clearly.Ouch!He was heavy.Kindly recall the reference to the blue whale in the previous para,its an apt description.He was soft,fluffy and irresistable.It took him a moment to adjust to the change of terrain but he settled on my lap quickly and started to purr.Purr would be a understatement here,they were loud rumbles.I was always of this opinion that applepie could be used for those vibration therapies.Put him on the clients back,let him rumble all day and the client walks away all relaxed and cured.
Anyways,initially I only loved the tom cats because they are like pups.They are innocent,dumb,scruffy,helpless and vulnerable.They are ready to be lifted and cuddled.They don't see it as an insult to their dignity to jump on my lap or come to me when I call.Try calling a female and you will be quelled by a stony,superior look.But over time I saw them in a different light.The females are more level headed,they dont run to you on an impulse.They observe and judge you for days before they decide if you are worth their company and if you do get that ticket into her world then its a bond made for life.She dotes on you,mothers you,sleeps beside you while you are sick,sits by you when you are sad and shows her affection in a million innovative ways.
Coming back to that question which started all this narrative....would I go so far as to call myself a cat lover?Well,it really is a complex question.Cats are like a never ending lesson.Just when you have decided,this is all there is to know about them and with this knowledge you could decide if you love them or not...they exhibit another phenominal dimension that throws you off track. They are an enigma,an unsolvable mystery.I don't know if I could love all cats but I know I shall always be intrigued by them.
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