The Good Doctor

          

          The interview took place in the doctor's office. Today seemed to be a relatively free day and the doctor(D) seemed  relaxed for the Q&A. It was with great reluctance that the doctor granted the interview and we were relievd that we would finally get some answers. We had been the patients who navigated the COVID trail successfully under the doctor's treatment. And in our misplaced endeavour to help future patients we decided to get a first hand account of  treatment meted out to us by the good doctor. The doctor was short with us; "What is there to know? It is a blessing that you are okay and that should be enough for you". We mumbled something about being altruistic andclearing the misconceptions about the disease. "What is in it for me?" said the doctor. We were vague about the name and fame that the doctor would gain - the doctor gave a derisive laugh and clarified that the query was about monetery gains. After a few minutes of sordid bargaining we settled on an acceptable secret figure. And so started the interview.

Us: What medicines are to be used for COVID?

D :  Did I not give you a prescription? 

Us:  Doctor your handwriting is - pardon our saying so - illegible to the normal human being...

At this point the doctor nearly terminated the interview. It took a lot of persuasion and honeyed words to soothe the bruised ego. 

D: Rather than talk about curative procedures I would like to talk about prevention of this diesease. Everyone wants to go to heaven but no one wants to die first.

Us: And why do you say that doctor?

D: No reason at all. I just wanted to use that quote; (We looked at her dumbfounded. Our speechlessness put the doctor in a good mood)  

Us: You were talking abot prevention...

D: Prevention is better than cure.(The Doctor pontificated). It takes very little to prevent this disease. Washing of hands with soap. Wearing a mask - 

Us: we already know about that (We interrupted). There is a lot of material on this in the Government pamphlets-

D: Yes Yes (It was a season for interruptions). Who would like to go through the pain of of suffering if they can avoid it?

Us: OK doctor . Tell us about prevention.(We recapitulated)

D: The important thing is (in addition to wearing mask and washing hands and social distancing ) to boost ones' immunity. Having Zinc tablets twice a day with vitamin C D and E will help boost immunity.

Us: What about ayurveda? Are there any immunity boosters?

D: as a matter of fact yes. Chyavanprash is an immunity booster. It has a high percentage of amla (Vit C) and flavanoids (which are natural antioxidants). These help in boosting immunity. Natural spices as used in the daily food also boost immunity.

Us: In the event that someone is unfortunate to get the disease how do we go about the treatment?

D: In this world we (the doctors) are the only people who believe in the positivity of negativity. A patient who tests positive is a danger for the medical fraternity also. In the event a person does test positive the most important thing for that person is to isolate themselves -

Us: What is the difference between quarantine and Isolation?

D: People who are sick should go into isolation and people who are suspected of the disease should have their movements restricted till either they are cleared or contract the disease. People who are in Isolation should eat their food in he room they are confined to. Inanimate utensils should also be confined/ they should eat in paper plates. Anyhow these are very broad outlines. Duration can be confirmed from the medical provider. 

Us: Doctor now about the treatment...

D: Why are you on about this treatment? This is a new disease and the treatment is not standardised. Depending on the severity of the disease it is upto the medical provider whether to confine a patient at home or hospitalise the patient. Treatment is mostly symptomatic, including betadine gargles for sore throat, rehydration for diarrhea, fever is treated with paracetomal and body aches with appropriate pain relievers.

Us: Doctor you treated us with antibiotics....

D: Antibiotics is for treating co-infections of bacteria - not for COVID

Us: (We were waiting for the doctor to use the ("Co" word)  Doctor lot of people use this word co morbid - what does it mean?

D:  People who have pre-existing conditions such hypertension. heart problem, Diabetes etc are more vulnerable to the disease as are those who smoke. Liquor  provides sanitisation inside the body. so booze is good. 

Us: (We looked at the doctor incredulously) (The doctor burst out laughing)

D: Only Joking....

Us: (We looked at one another in wild surmise at this sudden levity of the doctor) ....

D:   No I have not lost my mental equilibrium (the doctor protested) . But because of the unknowns of the  disease people can go into depression - especially old people. Care must be taken to look for these signs.

Us: Doctor what is the social responsibility towards this disease.

D: Good Question. It comes into play once a person gets infected. It is the responsibility of that family to report the matter,quarantine themselves, inform the people in contact so that further spread of the diesease can be contained.

Us: Doctor.. 

D: I have not finished. (The doctor said rather rudely- we thought). It is also the responsibility of the society to care of those infected. And the media has contributed to raising the panic of the general populace. (The doctor said glaring at us). The disease, to spread, requires sustained contact. Rational handling and a cool head will help assuaging the fears of the populace.

            Seeing that the doctor was worked up we decided to end the interview, while the going was still good. In any case we got most of the information that we had come to gather. A hurried goodbye we left to publish the article .

The Untouchables

          It started as a niggle in the throat. As was usual I dismissed it as an onset of cold. It could'nt have come at a more inconvenient time . My wife was down with a sore throat and general feeling of tiredness. She was already on antibiotics and all other medications as were applicable to her condition. She took undue advantage of the situation and started sleeping through the day. Again the condition was attributed to normal cold symptoms. And so the first two to three days passed by. All the time I was worried that my cold would worsen and I would end up totally incapable of doing anything - as is the case in normal cold.Mininstations of vicks and gargles of betadine did not help my wife from recovering from her condition. 

          The danger signals were there but we did not recognize them. While we were not able to breeze through our normal day to day routines, we were able to get by.

Doctor in the House

          My daughter who was with us is a doctor. As is the case with most doctors she assumed the worst. A slight cough or forcible clearing of the throat immediately brough her to our room with a number of questions as to why we were clearing our throat/coughing or for that matter any aberration physiologically had her fussing over us with her giving us third degree on the various problems thereafter. So much so that we became apprehensive of her presence and started coughing or cleaaring our throat on the sly. Matters did come to a head when the doctor in the house put her foot down and forced us to go for the dreaded COVID-19 test. Rather than face repeated questioning, we consented for the test.

Hindsight

          They say that hindsight always makes it easy  to be wise after the event (Sir Arthur Conan Doyle). I remember going to the workshop to get my vehicle serviced. As is my practice I opted for an early morning appointment, so that after the delivery of the vehicle I could walk back home and so complete my morning workout. I did walk back but the going was tough. I attributed it to the wearing of the mask and the 'cold' which I had. Now I realise that there was more to it than just the cold and the mask. Comprehension often comes too late (another of my favorite hindsight quotes).

The Test

          One fine morning we - all three of us got into the car, put on our masks and went to the hospital. Then started the torture of filling up of the forms, producing a prescription to get the test done and the production of ID for proving that it is indeed you who is getting the test done. And the waiting. That is what gets you. Added to this is the other patients coming and sitting next to you. I found an ingenous way to keep them away from me. Anyone who came to sit next to me - I told them that I was getting tested for COVID 19. The look of horror on their face when they moved away from me in quick time was priceless. A three hour wait and a quick swab of the throat and the test was over.

The Aftermath

          The consequences of our test hit us hard. Waiting for the result was interminable. In real time for about three days. During this time we checked up all our past transgressions and contacts to check up where we met someone who might have been responsible for our going for the test. We drew a blank. By now my wife was getting slightly better and sleeping only for about eighteen hours a day. The day of reckoning was finally upon us and we were diagnosed as having tested positive. The doctor proved to be right in her diagnosis.

The Untouchables

          We were immediately confined to our room. The mattter was reported to the housing society. Within a few hours the entire society of six hundred flats knew of our predicament. Our block was sealed. My daughter issued us disposable plates glasses and spoons. We survived on the food that my wife had cooked that morning for the whole day. We had to forego our daily cup of coffee because of milk not being delivered. The dog was removed from our room. A general sense of foreboding enveloped the house. Clothes were washed in the washbasin and we felt unloved. The next day also proved to be equally bleak and hopeless. The dog could not be taken for a walk.

The Silver Lining

          Soon requisition was put in to a lab to carry out testing other inmates of the home  to ensure that thay did not contract the diesease while we were waiting for the result and freely roaming about the house blissfully unaware of the impending doom. Thankfully their result was negative and this proved to be a positive outcome to help boost our morale.

The Good People

          Meanwhile messages of "get well soon" from all quarters were working wonders on our psyche. We were getting better. A lady from the neighbourhood offered to help walk our dog - it did wonders to our own digestion - knowing that the dog was getting his daily exercise. A close friend cooked food for us for the next fourteen days . This helped us eat palatable food during our incarceration. My old school mate staying on the floor above us helped us by getting us groceries and milk everyday. There are good people still existing in this world.

Recovery

          The goodwill of the people around us and passing time has helped us recover totally. My wife's tiredness has now left her and she sleeps only 14 hours a day. My sense of smell which had deserted me has gradually returned. The fourteen days of incarceration were at an end. Only one thing remained before my daughter/ doctor declared us fit to resume our day to day routine - a re-test. The atmosphere was palpable with tension, when we gave our sample - this time our nose swab - very painful and makes you want to sneeze. When the result was disclosed we were declared to be negative. This morning I took my dog out for a walk.....

Hospital

         

              I have an affinity for hospitals. It can safely be said that all my mishaps involving hospitalisation are unique unto themselves. And most of them are orthopaedic issues.The first accident happened while I was in training in Belgaum. As was the custom, after a long run, all of us (who went for the run) ran to the old rope hanging off a branch of a banyan tree. I climbed up the rope. My friend, in his impatience also started climbing the rope omitting to take into consideration that I had already reached the top of the rope. The old rope snapped and I came down alongwith it. The tactics employed by me to break my fall proved unsuccessful when it resulted in a fractured wrist reulting in my  admisssion to the local Military Hospital . The reduction of the wrist was done under anaesthesia. A cocktail of anaesthesia, as also the drugs deadened the pain. This feeling of wellbeing continued into the evening. So much so that I skipped the hospital to go get drunk. The  chaos at my being AWOL resulted  in a  reprimand. The next few days in the hospital were not very happy but they paved the way to my recovery. Never would I ever go back to the hospital I vowed to myself as soon as I was discharged.

 

            Passing time and fading memory blurred my resolve. One evening after a  few drinks with friends I committed the cardinal mistake of riding my scooter home (I was on leave). A general feeling of wellbeing made me less cautious and more trustworthy of my own abilities when I decided to drive my scooter with my eyes closed - to see if I could go straight. I was proved wrong when my scooter veered to the right. My scooter and I parted ways  as I went over a culvert, striking my knee hard against a rock in the nallah below resulting in my patella bursting into a few pieces. A quick appreciation of facts as were evident to me forced me to go to the nearest Military Hospital - much against my earlier  resolve of never going back there. The doctor in spite of having been woken up at an unearthly hour - for reasons beyond my comprehension - overlooked my inebriated state and arranged for my admission. Prior to admission I was to have been X-Rayed.

             And then disaster struck. As I was being loaded into the ambulance the stretcher bearer, unable to bear my weight dropped me resulting in a deep cut on my brow. (Five stitches). What was a bad start to a morning did not end there. My people from home were horrified seeing my bloody face (I was not yet cleaned up after my ambulance mishap). After a lot of recriminations I was left alone to meet up with the orthopaedic surgeon.When the doctor did finally arrive, his examination was cursory and his bedside manner brusque. I was slated for getting operated upon in a matter of few days. In the evening I found the ward full of activity. I was told that the orthopaedic surgeon had suffered a cardiac event and was admitted in my ward .

            That put a halt to any further treatment - at least till a replacement for the orthopaedician came in to complete the task at hand. For the next ten days the torture of Injections at odd times - something I did not look forward to with any enthusiasm whatsoever - Waking up early (or rather being rudely awakened so that the nursing assistants could make my bed) and the painful journey to the toilet - somehow I could never master the use of a bedpan all added to my misery. Ensuring that the leg did'nt get banged on the way was an exercise in itself. Meanwhile a search for my suitor/ doctor was still on. Somehow it seemed to be the time when all the orthopaedecians were either on leave or admitted in the hospital with me. My long stay saw me getting familiar with the nursing staff and the nursing trainees. I proved to be a guinea pig to the trainees who took a vicious pleasure in practicing on me with injections.  By this time I had really  dreaded the injections and regarded them as a torture. They suitably softened me. Was I being questioned then Anyone seeking  answers from me would have got them easily. Finally the the day was set for my being operated upon.

             The indignity of wearing a gown with nothing else to keep me away from the prying eyes of the operating staff soon dissolved into nothingness when I was put under anaesthesia. Somewhere in the evening when I came to, I discovered that my legs were clean shaven and the cause of my misery for the past so many days had been reduced to a clean wound which had been stitched across. The torture of the injections continued. Just when I was congratulating myself that the extended sojourn at the hospital was coming to an end, I realised that the doctors had some new techniques with which to make my life hell. The next morning I was taken to the operation theatre where the doctor without much ado squeezed my knee like it was dough. Was it not for the presence of a young lady doctor (I was young and my vanity was intact) I would have howled in pain. I contented myself with a silent gasp of pain which further encouraged the Doctor to squeeze my knee even more harder - removing infection he called it - I think he was taking pleasure in my discomfiture. This continued throughout the time I was in the hospital.  

            My ward mates were interesting in their own way. One of them was a patient who had blown up his foot in the '71 war. His doctor was scared that he would get addicted to morphine and introduced him to liquor to fight pain. Now, after all these years he had become habituated to liquor. His de- addiction programme was not working and every morning he would be up and about pacing the ward. The slap of slippers on the ward floor used to wake me up early in the morning.Then there was this other patient who was interested in tantric rituals. Sometimes he would go into trances, which amused the Nursing staff but was not funny t the patients at all.

            While the patients were interesting the visitors were no less a study in human behaviour. From nagging wives to concerned family members I saw them all . My own friends who visited me - after the preliminaries - handed me my crutches and took me outside where they could smoke in peace. I who had eschewed smoking as a teenager was drawn into this habit again and took it up with a vengeance.

and so the days passed .. Soon it was time to get discharged. Hospital life had made me soft. When I tried to get up and walk , the pain was intense in my leg. For the next few minutes I could not move. The nurse who had come to see me was getting impatient. Finally she said " guys who had lost their leg do not make as much fuss as you do." This spurred me into action and I walked out of the hospital dedtermined tha t it would be the last time. .. But was it? That is another story.

How I met your Mother

           

             On a very pleasant evening, when I was young, I found myself on a beach. I was at an impressionable age and my harmones were raging. It was probably the age when I fell in love with every girl that I saw. And having gone to the beach where the sound of the waves and the constant winds had a lulling effect on me - maybe I was feeling romantic. Or  - since I was alone - I might have been craving for companionship. I missed my friends  The stage was set for my first attempt at befriending someone from the opposite sex. There was this nice looking girl who had come for a walk along with her friend. She was cute. At least as per my perception. When our paths crossed, my reverie was broken and impulsively I turned around to follow them.

             It was dusk and the girls , probably misreading my intent started walking faster. While the sensible part of my brain advised me to stop further investment on this project, my harmones and inbuilt impulses literally forced me to quicken my step. For better or for worse this need to know the conclusion of this story guided all my future actions. Having reached them, I opened with " Hi. I am ------." The girls looked at me as if I had comitted some impropriety. For sometime  the winds and the sea quitened down. Then one of the girls said " My mother told me not to speak to strangers". and with that the girls started walking away at a quick clip from our meeting place. I quietly applauded the instructions of the cautious mother to her child - and at the same time cursed her for being instumental in ruining what I thought would be a perfectly good evening.

             This incident scarred me for life. The mother factor always governed my furture interactions with the fairer sex. At the back of my mind I was worried that all girls' mothers would pass such outlandish instructions to their daughters and that at each time I tried  to befriend some girl this advise would nip my attempt at any relationship in the bud. For a long time I was wary of trying to befriend anyone. Was it my introversion or was I scared at being rejected outright? And then the same mothers would encourage their daughters to converse with some poor soul who was brought forcefully by their family for ' seeing the bride' for an arranged marriage. That fateful evening on the beach had altered my life in a manner which I had never visualised.

            In an attempt at not being a stranger, I decided to approach this problem of befriending girls in a different fashion. During my graduation, the families of many of my fellow students had also come to the graduation party. One of my fellow classmates sister was a stunner. Confident that I had spent three years with my friend and that I was no longer a 'stranger' I approached my friend's sister with all the swagger that a youngster could muster with an intention of establishing a - as I visualised it - a longlasting friendship with this wonderful girl.  She was pleasant to speak to and seemed to be a nice person . Just as I was silently congratulating myself at having established a contact with the other kind, her brother approached her purposefully and said "Don't talk to ----- ; He is a dangerous chap."
Sisters being sisters, the girl conveyed her thanks to her brother and walked away from our interrupted conversation. Of course, while the sister avoideed me because I was 'dangerous' the brother also ensured that he did not cross my path. The aura of 'danger' around me probably intensified when the brother was within my visual distance and he did a great job at avoiding me through the graduation ceremony.

            Over the next few years  my ability to discern between a nice looking girl, good girl, friendly girl, hostile girl etc improved. What did not improve was my capability to establish a meaningful relationship with the fairer sex . The words - from all those years back - still rankled.
           
Who is a stranger? How do you classsify one? Does one know all his/her friends from the previous life? All these questions went through my mind over and over again - all because some mother told her child not to speak to a stranger.  Life throws up many problems at you . Some you solve by yourself, some you solve with the help of friends, some you resolve through learning from other people and those which you cannot solve you sweep them under the carpet .


This was an unsolvable problem which I could not ignore. I am quite adept at forgetting things which irritate me but the fact that a girl did not find me interesting , gnawed at my vitals, kept me awake in the nights and generally started affecting my well being and my work.  I was turning into a shadow of my former self. Stubborn weight which I could never lose by exercising now started melting over my bones. The chubbiness which made me look like a lout was slowly going away - giving me an improved appearance.

People did not know of my internal turmoil. In fact they congratulated me on my good looks. The only person who expressed concern was my mother (She never discouraged me from speaking to strangers) . In her own way she silently kept feeding me. And when I did not put on weight she gave me castor oil to supposedly get rid of the worms in my stomach.

All seemed lost  until I overcame  my inhibitions to  say hello to your mother and she responded.... 

La Bouche II

My new blog has been a long time in coming. For the sake of continuity I am adding the link to the previous blog . It would be a pleasure if you read it and comment....

https://bellavistans.blogspot.com/2019/01/i-am-mouth.html

now continuing the saga of the mouth

            As sage Vyasa I recited the whole Mahabharata and Lord Ganesha recorded it for posterity. Even with my ability to converse continuously I had to put in some difficult verses for Ganesha to stop writing and seek the meaning of these verse. When Lord Ganesha agreed to pen down the Mahabharata his only condition was that I should not pause - and that if I did then he would quit writing - and hence the difficult verses. As Shakuni I set out to achieve what he wanted to do - destroy the Kuru clan. The web of deceit that I wove around the Kuru Vansh with truths, half truths and lies nearly destroyed it. As Draupadi I cried out against the injustices meted out to a woman and succeeded in destroying the Kauravas. I also gained the distinction (Long live Woman Power) of being the first to object against the skewed scale of justice against women.My ability to influence the world's future past and present was phenomenal.

            Posterity will record the fact that those who put their heads down and went with the flow did not ever do anything famous. I expressed Ideas and influenced human kind. I stated facts and put away wrongdoers. I explained things and convinced people that the sun revolves round the earth(initially) and then re-convinced them that the earth revolves round the sun. Some good quotes which I made,  as different people got recorded for the generations down the line, for them to hear and implement. I can safely say that most of the famous people down  the ages are  because of me.

            Not that all I said was gospel. Many wars were fought due to my careless utterances. In fact what I said shaped the life of many people not to mention their character. It would be remiss of me to not mention the the brain, which played a huge part in my ability to articulate. I would also be found wanting if I did not mention my team mates - the tongue the lips and the teeth. Because of them I was articulate clearly.

            With time came clarity and with clarity came revolutionary ideas and with revolutionary ideas came the change in life style of the populace. Those were he heady days . When I was the supreme among the organs. I could ingest anything and force the stomach to accept the ground contents to process as food. Indian, french, Italian, English etc - all foods were tasted and digested. Sugar was never a problem and the so called sweet tooth was satiated to the maximum.

            Those were the days! When we were young. My team and I. We could eat anything, drink anything and chew the hardest of material with no ill effects. I remember when I used the teeth to open a beer bottle. With the help of the tongue and the lips I articulated my dreams, spoke truths , lied to gain benefits, seduced women for slaking my lust, made friends with benefits and sang off - tune at karaoke parties.At the same time I dwelt  on my ambitions and gave them shape. Some of my articulations were never fulfilled but then that is life.

            As a girl/woman I was more circumspect with the opposite sex. I never let my desires and dreams to be publicised . I was wary of the male species and this reticence of mine lent an aura of mysticism to my persona. Many a man spent his lifetime trying to decode me. A pout of my lips could be in anger or it could be an inviting gesture, broadcasting my desire. The tongue played an important part as well. At a very early age I learnt that men were pliable. As a child I had my dad twisted round my little finger. As a teenager I used my tongue to trash my competitors and tell my suitor the things that he wanted to hear. As a young woman I kept my counsel to myself - until the time I found my life partner - that is...

            Once that happened and I was settled for life, I found a change in myself. Now I could nag, scold, tell lies, and do the most important thing that I always wanted to do- gossip. Gossip was the fuel that helped keep things interesting in my life. It was such a thrill to gossip with like minded people that it gave me a high that is indescribable. The ability to change someone's life without even having met them gave me a feeling of power.

            There is a general feeling amongst the people that men were more of doers than talkers. This was mostly true about the men who are married. As a man, after my marriage I found a change coming in my utterances. This was probably due to the fact that I was crushed with responsibilities and the fact that in every married man there comes in a period of self doubt which crushes his soul. And since he is a man he is unable to express himself. As a result the tongue and other parts of me were rarely used. The most used tool were the lips which ensured that no syllable escaped me without purpose.

            With age comes maturity. And this  reflected in my sayings. Also there are other associated problems which afflicted my team of lips teeth and tongue. The tongue could no longer be trusted to reflect the accurate taste of food stuff. The teeth started rotting.  As my body advanced in age the food that I ate was dictated not by the taste but by the requirements. My utterances were governed by my age. I could no longer make irreverent statements and expect others to applaud my stupidity.
With years of abuse the teeth that once were pearly white were now yellowed and decaying. I was afflicted with bad breath which others found offensive - no amount of costly oral hygiene could repair this. With time comes the end of all good things. It happened in my case also. My teeth fell out . The lips were devoid of any colour. The tongue could no longer utter anything. All my thoughts were articulated through grunts and other sounds. My team mates have gone and I am as when I was a child - without the ability to express myself...

La Bouche

I am mouth. They say children are given life through the umbilical cord. But once a child is born I am the means of livelihood of the child . My origin is in the fourth week of an embryo. The anus is of course formed in the eighth week. This goes to prove that whatever muck has been created by me has to be expelled by the anus. Of course due to my volubility and impulsiveness some of the problems which I create can never be easily eradicated by the simple process of defecation  By the time a child is born I am already there for it to help the child development. One of my first tasks - now that the umbilical support has been withdrawn is to search for a nipple to draw sustenance from...

And when that sustenance is not forthcoming then create such a ruckus that people start taking notice of the child. That is my first attempt to communicate. Later in Life I would be responsible for so many things among so many people that I have lost count of the good bad and the ugly things that I have done.

            Like I always say let us start at the beginning shall we? When God created earth and then created Man and Woman, it was through me that the woman persuaded the man to eat the forbidden fruit (ever since then man has always been subservient to women). Many may say that the forbidden fruit was an apple. I beg to differ. Was the word fruit used to describe something forbidden? Work it out for yourself. When Adam actually 'ate' that fruit , the  problems started in this world. It would be safe to say that God created Man and Woman as playthings for himself in a huge toyhouse called the earth where he would interact with them when the things in the Heaven became too mundane. By eating the forbidden fruit (through my insistence ) the man and woman laid down the pathway to many a problem that the earth faces today. We can now safely assume that the forbidden fruit was the first interaction between Man and a woman. Maybe God thought that he would be in control of earth and its population by systematically introducing man and woman to procreation. But that was not to be , and god gave up on earth...

            Getting back to the child in search of sustenance - it has also now been proven that on a woman I am more potent than a man. Growing up was fun. My first companion - the tongue - started learning new sounds and along the way new tastes. We were doing fine-tongue and I - when some sort of hard growth in me started coming up. Both painful and tasting horrible. In an attempt to get rid of it I induced many an expulsion - including all the tasty things that I could get to taste at that age. But this hard thing not only refused to go but started increasing in number. When it did not work out , in an attempt to get these disgusting outgrowths out I started using them to clamp down on people's fingers or whatever else was shoved into my me- in the hope that these adults would help me get rid of these things.In the next few months there was no other alternative but to sign a truce with the white outgrowths. The partnership - I was thrilled to discover was very fruitful. Another fortunate thing was that these outgrowths were in a limited number and the best thing was that the things that I hitherto fore not tasted were now available to me.

            Development of the tongue was not far behind. Over a period of time the tongue reveled in the vast number of tastes thrown at it.Some good some not so good and some horrible. Along the way a misconception developed that a tongue has areas of taste.This has been disproved later.  The tongue was also my main means of communication. New words were learnt and used appropriately as we progressed in life. Clever use of words , construction of sentences and use of swear words at the right time would stand me in good stead over time. Sometimes a wrong usage would either get laughed at or suitably punished. The tongue being a muscular organ would be -as I learnt in later life-put to different uses . But more of that later...

          As the child grew up , so did my vocabulary. On a well behaved child I was nice to listen to. On a ill behaved child , it was humourous to an extent and later became a cause for irritation to others. My ability to convince others (through the gift of gab) as to my intentions was phenomenal . During this process of growth I learnt good things and bad. And was the CEO for the brain. All the brains' intentions were communicated through me. During adolescence, when the body's hormones started going wild my priorities also started changing. The body started noticing the opposite sex and the intention to develop friendship was expressed through me. While I am the first to confess that the overall attraction had something to do with bodily chemistry I helped push the case along with my unique ability to persuade someone as to the acceptability. In this phase , on a girl I really did not have much to do. But I was a boy's best bet in projecting his saleability.

         I learnt numerous ways to manipulate other human beings. Even animals.The funny sounds I made while calling a dog or a cat or a horse seemed to impress them. I am the basis of many an enduring friendships between man and animal and that is what mattered. Early in my life I learnt that manipulation was the key to my healthy survival. One of my main tools was to lie. I used this to good effect for a boy who just smoked his dad's cigarette or a girl who had her first  secret tryst with her boyfriend and was convincing enough to her parents that she was at her friend's place for studies.In a manner of speaking I was indispensable to all my creatures.

            Everyday was a new day to learn and to teach and to manipulate to cheat and to love to hate to make war and to broker peace. For me the process was exhilarating .Tasting of different cuisines also helped satiating my palate(while at the same time not being so good for the stomach) While these are my main functions I also learnt other arts where the female of the species pleases her man through me as does a man a woman. There is so much to say. And I will do it . Don't push it.....

Smartwatch - An Essay

          It was my anniversary. My friend from the USA , Mr C was on a business trip to India. During our meeting this time he presented me with a smart watch. Or rather I asked him to get me one.( It was much cheaper in the USA).

           Gentleman that he is he did not accept any payment and told me that it was an anniversary gift. A part of me was happy that I had been given an expensive gift and another part was feeling bad about the fact that I had asked him to get me a smart wat111ch. Maybe subconsciously I knew that he would not accept any cash from me. Be that as it may I was thrilled with the watch. It was sleek and looked great on my wrist. The moment it was powered it started glowing and my nightmare started officially. It got personal when it asked me my age,weight and other vital statistics. I humoured it by entering the requisite  details.

          C and I went back a long way.We were classmates from 5th Grade. We used to travel by the same bus to school and would sit on the same desk. In those days we would interact even outside the school and it was not unknown for us to visit each others' homes on a regular basis. We knew each others' parents quite well. Whatever mischief was attributed to us during the course of this interaction, encompassed both the school and home.

           Our paths got defined when he opted for the engineering stream and I opted for the Army. While he aimed for higher things in life, my aim of opting for the Army was, that one did not have to study in the Army and it was all one big physical thing.Of course it was a huge misconception.C's brains got him a seat in the premier institution of India. After drifting through a few jobs in India and abroad he finally decided to settle in the USA. The nature of my job precluded the possibility of my going abroad. Internet in the nineties brought us together and with the dawn of the new century we established physical contact. He got married, I got married, we spawned one child and two children respectively. Sporadic contact in the recent years finally fructified in his presenting me with a smart watch.

          The day after, I proudly wore the watch and displayed it to all  and sundry. A flick of the wrist and it told me all I needed to know about myself. The rate at which my heart was beating, the number of steps that I walked till the moment of my seeing the display, the date, the time and a slew of information which was programmed into it. At first it was very novel. I was very careful as to how I used  it. I wiped it clean every time I took it off. and  put it in the case that came along with it. Inevitable comparison with other people who possessed such a device was always happening.... Maybe - just maybe- the thought  that I should have asked for a costlier model with more features flitted through my mind....

          The watch slowly took over my life. .Fittingly I named it Mr C. Every time the blue tooth was on I was connected to Mr C. In this manner I reduced the distance of oceans and continents separating us  to a mere few feet....
         
           If  I did not carry out ant activity for fifty minutes then it reminded me about the fact and suggested a few different exercises to merely prove that I had not become inanimate. I indulged in its reminders and did a few stretches - and when people looked at me oddly then I explained to them about this gadget. At the end of the week it gave me my weekly report - and if I did not exceed the previous week's target then it expressed its disapproval on my indolence. Apart from my wife's nagging I think that the watch was the only one from whom I accepted criticism meekly. And then again when I did well it complimented meI gratefully accepted its compliments. I was like a pet who received who liked receiving a pat on its head.

          The need to please the watch became an obsession. Just like in school when Mr C and I were teenagers with raging hormones - our need to impress girls. We would go to any length to do so. Writing letters (fraught with danger - that is where we learnt - never to leave documentary evidence - something which served us well in later life) studying hard to get good marks - which we thought would impress girls. And of course doing stupid things ... (Only in hindsight - but stupid nonetheless)
We had our good moments with girls at school..

          Pleasing  someone or the other throughout our life is something we all do. Our parents, Siblings, Relatives, Teachers, Neighbours , Friends, Bosses, wife/ves children and so on and so forth. So I did not see anything wrong in extending this desire to please inanimate objects also. The need to be approved was foremost in my mind. and a pre-programmed object goading me on did not seem wrong. So much so, that in one of the weeks I drove myself to ground for this approval.
Extreme Fatigue - the doctor ruled - and advised me a week's rest in the Hospital. All my belongings - including the phone and the smart watch were taken away from me forcibly. I instructed my wife the about the charging schedule and the dos and don'ts with regard to the watch and bid it a silent farewell. The withdrawal was slow and painful but I got over it . Attachments always give us grief - I realised....

          The rest of the week flew by and I came out of the Hospital a new man. The need to get back to a active routine became pressing when I found my tummy falling over my belt.
The watch was lying invitingly on my table fully charged.  Unconsciously my hands went to the watch and I absently strapped it on my wrist. A reassuring vibration and a congratulatory message for going active again got me on the path to fitness... till my next breakdown...