Snoring circus

                                                           

When I was asked what kind of a guy I would like to get married to, I would answer without hesitation, a teetotaller who doesn't snore at all. Imagine sleeping every night in a railway coupe. I agree you have a cosy bed, A/C and duvets but You can hardly sleep in the belly of a rattling rhino. So I prayed god, every night when I am pestered by my dad's snores, to get me married to a snore free hulk.

Dad's snores are like the roars of a lion. I often had these night mares and night terrors of wildest possible imaginations when I was a child. At times I would pinch his nose to stop him snore but he shooooos me away like a baby mosquito. I had to put up with him. Then my mum took to snoring. She snores like the whistle of a constable or rather the whip of a ring master. So all the lions inside my head submitted themselves to the ring masters mercy but the cruel trainer lashes her whip on those caged beasts every now and then.

When I complain in the morning "Mom you are snoring" she would treat me like the prankster which I am and choose to ignore me. "Chi Chi! I never snore. My mother never did. My grandmother never snored. Why will I snore when it is not in my jeans (genes) ?" Awake or asleep, the lion king knows better than to mess with her. He plays dumb and deaf. I tried to follow his pursuit unsuccessfully.

Pissed off, one day or rather one night I captured an AV of her snoring. Though caught in the act she denied that it's a fake video, edited, morphed or something she doesn't know much of. After the phase of denial, came the creeping acceptance. She googled the etiology of snoring before she rushed to her physician.

"It's the thyroid pressing on my windpipe. I am sure"  she wailed. The doc assured her that her goiter (thyroid swelling) is not big enough to compress her trachea.

"It must be the adenoids then. I often catch cold" she complained wiping her leaky nose. The doc explained her that adenoids is a childhood ailment and that she is perfectly alright. "Its your over weight that makes you snore madam. you should diet" he concluded. She avoided him and his advise like a bitter potion and walked back her way.

My tolerance to the snoring circus grew miraculously higher until a new inmate joined the club. A hippo? A rhino? A whale? I am not sure what a beast it is but it sure quaked the earth. I'm jerked awake in an adrenaline drive to run away but I found myself rocking on my cot. It took a while to unclog my head and trace the source of commotion. My mighty brother sleeping in the other room is having a whale of a time, so much so that he set the floor dancing.

I prayed god once again "O god! send my saviour, my surname changer, my licence giver, my home shifter, my visa n passport bearer, the one who can make me cross the turmeric smeared threshold and make me feel the wind beneath my wings. Amen"

God answered my call...but in his own way. I got to fly with my bags packed. I slept in pin drop silence at my new abode. I rolled right. I rolled left. I couldn't sleep. To my utmost surprise I found the pin drop silence annoying. I missed Dad. I realized I'm addicted to his mighty snores. It gave me a secure aura saying "I am there for you my little girl". It was my lullaby. My narcotic. My anaesthetic. My relaxant. My euphoriant. "Oh Dad! I really miss u"

I cuddled up in to a ball like a baby in a womb trying to catchy my forty winks. It is then that I heard this cooing dove snore. I turned around to find my hubby snoring subtly. It is quiet a sight to watch this macho gymster snore like a baby and I loved it. I thanked god and slept with a smile playing on my lips as I enjoyed my new lullaby.

Life is a game - play it.

                                                     

 "what are you doing bro?" I asked my fully grown infant brother. No response. I'm talking to a wall.  My bro is known to get himself lost in the seventh heavens while reading and gaming, so much so that mundane pleasures and pain no more deter him. Just to prove my theory I pinched him for a good measure. No ouch. No AAAH. He jerked his hand silently and his super Mario fell in to the valley of death. ARRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. Now came the reeling response.

"You know, you are one of those morons who wakes up a person just to ask him what he was doing" he rebuked me. Just to prove his point I laughed like the bad piggies of angry birds and asked "what are you doing bro?"

"Naren said life is a game. Play it. I'm following the verses of this great man. Thats all" he replied.

"Naren? as in Narendra modi?" I asked sceptically.

"As in Narendra Nadh Datta alias Swami Vivekananda" he divulged. I grunted like the Godzilla of temple run pulling the I-pad from his grip and hit the play button. The only way to spend some quality time with my bro is to disturb him in a Dexter and DD fashion.

"why don't you live up to your age?" I asked him as I jumped in my seat along with my Mario on the screen.

"Well! I'M a kid at heart" replied cheekily grinning ear to ear like the Tom with horns and a arrowed tail. I jumped again but my Mario on screen didn't. Game over. I feared my carotids will tear apart with hypertension if I played on a marathon like my bro. And he calls it recreation and relaxation. God only knows how! My bro seized the moment and snatched the I-Pad on a pretext to demonstrate me how to play dextrously without getting hurt. But I guess the stars are all against him for the day. Both of my nephews, a 4yr old and a 2 yr old, popped up from nowhere and snatched the I-Pad.

"I Vaanth tempal run" the 4 yr old said switching the game. I realized he is an expert player. He played as if the I-pad were an appendage sprouted beyond his fingers ever since birth.  Like father like son I thought. But unlike my brother he would even look up from the screen and respond when he was spoken to with an ease of a 'Master of the game'.

"When did he learn to play so well?" I questioned my brother.

"It's in the very blood and genes" My brother replied with pride. "Ever since he was a baby he would get perked up with the windows Logo and its back ground score as I switch on the lappie. He would watch me play with all his attention and before I realized he mastered it".

The segment of my brain where I stored My Nelsons textbook of paediatrics tantalized me. I thought may be its time to rewrite the books.

Milestones of the 20th millennium:

1 month: Coos and turns head in response to sounds like windows logo.

2 months: Follows the path of a flying angry bird up to 90 degrees.

3 months: Follows the path of a flying angry bird up to 180 degrees.

                 smiles and laughs at the bad piggies.

4 months: Plays with A/C remote when placed in hand. Tries to reach out for the I-fone. 

5 months: Holds I-pad with both hands - bidextrous grip.

6 months : Drops I-pad when I fone is offered.

7 months: Transfers I-pad from one hand to other to hold an I-fone with the other

8 months: Sits n watches the laptop for hours

9months: Uses fingers to punch buttons and swipe the touch screen.
1 year: Graduates the gadgets and tutors the parents in case they have any doubts.

Breaking my chain of thoughts my brother persuaded his son to allow him clear the stage where the kid is blocked for eons. The kid smiled saying "The game is not about winning nanna. It's about playing and enjoying". Having said that he switched the game to "Yangry bards". He sent the bird in the reverse direction just to see his 2 yr old little brother roll in laughter along with the pigs.

My nephew taught us 'Geetha' his style. Karm kar. Phal ki apeksha na kar. That day I learnt how to make my super Mario jump without worrying about his death or my defeat.

The empire of the vampire

As i guessed the other day I slept with my eyes wide open in the physiology gallery as professor Babaji relentlessly taught us blood and its components. Anju who sat beside me, drew an excellent portrait of professor Babaji, with his upturned nose, curly hair and poker face.“ummmmmmm good job” I couldn’t stop myself from giving away the compliment.

I looked around and found Aditi & Dips playing book cricket. Much to Dip's credit Irfan patan made a double century.  Table fan did his job ‘BABE WATCH’ with utmost dedication. Bhalu-The bear, occupied more than half of the last bench, cracking jokes which luckily were not audible. Kaushik, a heap of skin and bones, countered  his barrack. It’s as good as watching “Laurel and Hardey”. Rahul is at the best of his craftsman ship making paper rockets. Rambo snored from the last-but-one bench.

The much awaited bell rang quiet melodiously. Everybody sprang to their feet at once, pushing wooden chairs hither tether with screeching noises.  Paper rockets soared the skies as the female fraternity left the gallery, dropping missile like messages "Hey Baby! Lukin sexy today" "How about a movie?" "waiting for you at the boat point @4pm" "kiss me and you will see the stars. Love me and I will give them to you".

I walked unwillingly to the physio lab with heavy feet in a Jack-sparrow-like-gait (courtesy Jonny depp from the pirates of Carrabin sea).

“Post lunch sessions should be banned” Souji cursed yawing lazily. I walked past the second row looking for my number. 19,20. I moved to the next row 21, 22. 

“Ah! Here it is 23, 24” I spotted it. I had to share my microscope with Hrishikesh. The same self obsessed, head strong, arrogent shaitaan who is in best-buddies-of-the-planet vibe with Aditi.  I’m not comfortable with him. Yet I’m not intimidated by him. I couldn’t understand this strange feeling. I’ll do well to remember not to pick a fight with him. After all that would make things between me and Aditi a little awkward.  I hope he doesn’t push me to the limits of my patience. There is a surge of adrenaline and I felt hyper-alert. I felt as if I am walking in to the cage of a wild beast. Easy baby…. Easy I seated myself on the stool numbered 24 pulling it as far away as possible. I’ll not let him pull out one of his tricks on me again. I’ll be careful.

“Hi, I’m Hrishikesh. We met the other day. Remember?” He held out his hand for a shake.

I mumbled “ummm. Hrudi” ignoring his hand without lifting up my head. He yanked his hand back immediately as though I electrocuted him.  However he sat calm and halcyon with a white-paper-face.

The tutor appeared on the lecturer’s podium and ordered us to begin the practical. “Last week we have done estimation of hemoglobin and today I will teach u how to test for blood groups”. He continued “The first person in each pair will prick the second person and make 3 to 4 huge drops of blood on the tile placed in front of you. And then….” He continued his instructions without ever noticing the growing trepidation among the students.

“Isn’t there any chance that I can wriggle out of this crap?”I heard Sowji comment.

“Good gracious” someone cried as Indu had a black out. she is carried away to the girls common room where she could relax.

“Nah……..these girls are really useless. Pea brained. Of what use they are as doctors in this society? All that they are fit for is to marry and beget children. Why do they waste seats for God’s sake?” the tutor who was notorious as a ‘khoon chusing vampire’ complained as he strolled between the rows.

I’m not too happy with his attitude. I have to prove him wrong. I took a firm determination and turned to Hrishikesh. I held out my finger tentatively, trying my best to appear valiant. He pressed the tip of my finger and cleansed it with spirit with a lop sided grin. I felt as though he was mocking me for not shaking hands with him earlier. I’m extremely uncomfortable as he touched me. More uncomfortable than what it had been with Tom-Dick-and-Harry.

How about requesting the tutor to give me a prick instead? He looks experienced                 

Meanwhile Souji too stuck out her finger at the vampires comment but the middle one. “Go to hell” she hissed under her breath and her partner Itihaas tried to give her a painless prick without touching her. The blood didn’t ooze. He apologized and tried another prick. A small but insufficient drop beaded atop of her finger. He wiped the cold sweat on his fore head with his handkerchief and held the needle with trembling hand for the third time. The tutor snatched the needle with one hand, pressed Souji’s finger with the other and gave a prick with a good depth that she bellowed a cry despite her determination not to twitch a muscle. Blood flooded half of the tile. Itihaas pressed some cotton firmly to her pricked finger looking apologetic. She fought back the tears which welled up in eyes much out of the insult, than the pain. The vampire then looked at us hungrily barring his fangs. Hrish spun on the moment and quickly gave me a prick in a blink of a sec. He swiftly made 4 drops on the slide while the vampire walked away slowly as if we denied his meal. I looked down at my finger. It is covered with cotton. There is no sign of blood. There isn’t any pain. Yet there are these huge drops of blood on the tile. I am confused but dared not to voice my doubts. The vampire is still eavesdropping us. Hrish quickly mixed the antiserum A and B on the drops of blood and mixed them with a match stick.  We waited silently for a couple of minutes and read the results.

“B+ve” we cried out in unison holding out our tile to the vampire as if it is a talisman. He nodded approvingly and walked away to pry on the unsuspecting victims.

“But my blood group is O+ ve” I looked enquiringly at hrish and he winked. I never realized how he managed to prick himself instead of me. And most importantly “why?” I smiled charismatically at him for the first time ever since he set his foot in this lab.

“Well that was a really painless prick” I said coyly extending my hand for a shake.

He looked satisfied and left the hall with a devil’s grin ignoring my hand.

Are you single?

                                       Are you sing-L? A pun story, just for fun :-)

I plonked myself on my side upper berth of the 2nd A/C comp in Ganga kaveri express n pulled the curtains closer. I switched on my I-Pod to my fav playlist and the led light for late night readers, a privilege provided in few trains only. I pulled out a copy of Twilight - Breaking dawn with a packet of lays. "Perfect" I said to myself as I tucked myself in a blanket. Just as I lost myself in the surreal world of the vampires I felt a tap on my bum. Who the hell? I swore under my breath expecting the TC.

"x chuz me"

 To my surprise I found this perky guy in a Adidas tee, Rebook shoes and Rayban shades. I shot up and said "yes?" with a best effort to keep impatience out of my voice.

"Is these your birth?" he asked.

 "wot? oh yea! This is my berth" I replied recovering in time. Desi guy? Not a techie?

"Are you sing-L?" He asked point blank.

"come again?" I said with rage.  He walked away only to come back again and tapped my bum. Kill you B*****d I swore as I shot up.

"who are you?" I fired.

"Myself Hanuman tempal poozari" he introduced himself beaming. Well! The Hanuman temple poojari doesn't seem keen on his celibacy I thought gingerly

"What is your problem?" I showcased my impatience liberally.

"U sing-L? I sleep here" he said politely. How dare! What does he think of me?

"But what made you think I would agree?" I said bubbling with red hot anger.

"Look my-dum!" he addressed me with utmost respect. "Don't be angry.  I assk only for help no. That too, only if you are sing-L"

"I have a boy friend for your kind information" I replied smugly.

"sheegrameva kalyana praaptirastu. sheegrameva suputra praaptirastu. Ishta kamyabdha siddirastu. Mano vaancha phalasiddhirastu" the priest blessed me with sanskrit verses. What I'm I to do now? Touch his feet, offer dakshina and take prasad? Bull shit! I looked back at him adamantly.

"My-dum" he took a pleading tone. "My wife is sleeping here. If you can give birth to my child, we can all stay together" he said showing me his wife and child. It took a sec to uncloud my head. All that this hanuman tempal poozari intended to assk me is weather I'm travelling alone or not. He intended to swap berths with me so that his family can stick together. I tumbled with laughter. The poor priest looked lost. When I recovered from my spell of laughing seizures, I apologized him and agreed to give birth to his child.