How a Hospital Duty looks like

Philip Kaun Hai (Who is Philip?)

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“Philip, tell me the pediatric dose of Ampicillin”

“Philip, what is the Plan C management of Acute Diarrheal Disease”

“Philip, Philip, Philip”

I begin to yawn

“Philip, Philip, Philip”

Thank god, it’s a classroom, and it’s the final year. There is no reason to panic. Self Control is an automated adaptation for survival. The green eyed monster is having a hard time trying the strenuous act of concentrating. It’s tough when the tutor is a pleasing appeal to the senses. When the smile is charming, the voice is filled with mesmerizing notes, and all these graceful facets are superimposed on excellent teaching skills, the end product is a serious mess in the minds of the innocuous listener.

Let’s call her Hema Ma’am. The first few dialogues used to be repeated whenever she took classes for us. It’s not that “Nithin Jayan”, or “Nithin Humayoon” or “Pooja” never reverberated in the air, but “Philip” itched my nerves. The guy is gifted with real ‘looks’, stupid chicks think he smiles like Tom Cruise…then he’s also a genius who spares very few hours to score well!!! So that means bitterness is justified.

That was about the first pediatrics postings that occurred months back. Time crawled by. Months later we are back. Same department, same unit, same set of professors, nothing has changed except for the minuscule changes that sprouted up as tiny grey hairs in *her head. (*Hema ma’am who else?) Philip is high and mighty these days. He would knock every one down so as to be the first one to step into Hema Ma’am’s O.P.room.

I yawned again. None of us needed an introduction.

But twists do happen.

Pointing at Philip, Hema Ma’am asked, “And You ARE?”

Silence…eyeballs pop out…everyone’s stunned…

TADA…music plays…drums

Tsunami?

“Philip”, he replies.

I am surprised.

“So you are Philip?” Madam’s question should have drilled through his heart.

“But, hmmm, is there another Philip in your class?” Madam probed again.

“No ma’am he’s the only one”, my voice was filled with evil satisfaction and a pinch of salt.

“I thought there was another Philip”

That’s it, that’s it

CHEERS.

Similar episodes recurred in the following days. Other tutors began to ask for “Philip”, but not our Philip.

Thus Mr. Tom Cruise is finally our new goal post.

“Malappuram Kathi, Nadan Bomb, avasanam Pavanayi shavamayi” the famous Malayalam ‘quote’ reverberate in the same air that once cradled “Philip, Philip, Philip”

Question still stays. Who’s this new Philip? Mystery continues

a Luv-leTTer 2 Weddin!!!

(non-fiction!!! itz real)
(originally posted in smiley tissues)
(n dis onez short...so no excuses neha!!!)

TRING TRING ...

TRING TRING...

ME: hELLOOOO
ABC: Hey nithin!!!

ME: (ooops..hmm...?? ive heard dis voice b4) Welll hiiiiiiiiii...!!! wazup...long since v spoke na..!!!

ABC: c'mon da...he he...don't bluff...u havent recognised me yet na..!!!! too long a time has passed since v spoke..!!!

ME: Actually...hmm...dis sound is too familiar..oh cmon slap me 4 not recollectin dese mesmerisin notes of music...!!!

ABC: Oh!! dear u havent changed a bit !!! :) he he...still on spectacles na?

ME: yup...!!!

ABC: Ill giv a clue. I had send u a LUV LETTER...years baak ...11th std...!!!remember???

ME: WHATTTTTTTTTTTT??? LORD...!!! Either i shud curse de postal service or u filled in de wrong address....Pal it NEVER REACHED ME...

ABC: HE HE...DONT worry...im not gonna send it again!! he he..Well here's de second clue. I'D fooled u wid a similar call few months back..!!

ME: WOW.............'ABC'...u idiot...im gonna kick u de nxt time v meet he he...!!!
luvly surprise niway pal....!!!

ABC: he he...so buddy..guess wat i called u 4?

ME: hmmmm...!!! he he....feb 14 is near...!!! perhaps upgrading 2 emails or sms..??

ABC: GRRRRRRRRR....dis kid..!!!! hey...Itz my weddin...!! dis feb...

ME: (errr...) woooooo..CMON...all of a sudden a gal rings me n remind me of her luv letter n den she invites me 4 her weddin!!!!

ABC: HE HE !!!! HEY...dude ive lost my phone buk...send all de numbers u know...k...?? I miss my ol' pals...!!! n u de official bbc shud b in touch wid most na.. :)

ME: sure pal...!!! so whoz de 'chosen one'...poor guy he he...!!!

(de conversation continued)

The CHOVVA DOSHAM (A Star War)

‘TAARE’ ZAMEEN PAR…!!!

If it weren’t my own television set I would have smashed the screen with the remote control I held. Preity Zinta will no longer show off her dimples for BSNL. Instead the long legs of Deepika Padukone are going to lure customers from now on.
Am I happy?

A press on the remote control drives me to a round table conversation, the topic…”Shouldn’t the drunken minister have slapped his wife on her left cheek rather than the right?” Some of the nation’s best thinkers (and that means those thinkers who have nothing else to do) spit out their ‘precious’ opinions.

ME: MAMMMMAA I hope you are not booking tickets to Switzerland to get chocolate.

MAMMA: Kuttu, be patient!!! Chocolate milk is on the way. Ooo…c’mon sonny, you are 21 now…do you know that?
ME: Yeah! And what is that supposed to mean? A quarter of my pals are now employed and messaging me their salaries. And who the hell forced me to join a medical college?

MAMMA : Aha! Okay it’s me. But see the advantage.

ME: Advantage?!

MAMMA: Yeah. You have a reason for not touching the daily newspapers.

ME: Yupp.

MAMMA: Because no economic depression or Tsunami is going to deprive you of your bed coffee.

I had nothing to say. I switched off the television.

ME: Do you know mamma how much it hurts to see them suffering?

MAMMA: Them?

DAD: “Me? Great…this is the plight of every married man sunnie…” Dad popped his head out of ‘Business Today’.

ME:Dad…I said THEM, not HIM…grrrr…
DAD: Ha ha…Okay continue….

ME: I have to wait near the colossal Silver Jubilee gate of our college every morning to board the bus to the Regional Institute of Ophthalmology. I stand there…watching their miserable lives.
MAMMA: C’mon can you cut the suspense off from this?

ME: They earn their bread selling toothbrushes, towels and stuff…Some are paupers selling notes worth lakhs or crores.

You know mamma, some moments it’s a special warmth you get watching them enjoying giggling at each other, fighting with customers (The Bargain Rajas). My sole competitor for the shade of the gate is a self proclaimed healer who assures the mass around him that what he holds is a panacea that can cure all illnesses.

Bravo…I would say…a panacea being hawked right in front of the State’s official gung ho of registered healers.

Of the many vendors is a mother…emaciated out of poor business knack…perhaps her dingy looks held back customers. Her kid, half naked, is playing with a stray puppy…no…not Dobermann or German Shepherd…well it’s up to the Municipal Corporation to decide it’s breed. She has spicy vadas and samosas. Poor lady…!!!


The next moment, sometimes, I would see fear in their eyes. They would pack their ‘shops’, wrap up the articles and run away. After a few minutes, once the jeep of the ‘Flying Squad’ had cleared, everything went back to normal. My bus would come by then.

DAD: C’mon don’t tell me it’s this that bothers you.

ME: What the…? Dad…it is chaos everywhere…the world is really a bad place to live these days.

DAD :Not ‘these days’ son…the day Adam or Eve or whoever walked in, earth was contaminated!!! But what is philosophy doing here at this time of the day…

ME: A pal of mine called, a while back.


MAMMA: And that worried you? What happened sonnie? DAD :Hi…hi…she said no to your proposal?
DAAAAAAAAAAAD.
I was ready to jump over him. But hey…there must be a spy somewhere in my class…did dad really get the news?

MAMMA: RAAAAJ…c’mon…who is the grown up here…? (Mamma interferes)

Sonnie…which gal was it anyway?
ME:Mamma…et tu brutus….Gosh…

MAMMA: Hi Hi.

ME:K. It was Rekha. My school mate.
DAD: BINGO…Wow…your ex??? …she wanted to invite you to her wedding…right son? Howz ma guess?

ME: C’mon this ain’ fair.

MAMMA: Raaj…cut the crap please… (Thanks mammaa….)

ME: Well mom…dad’s right…it’s her wedding…but she says she ain’t prepared. She wants to take her job at Microsoft and earn some bucks for her own before getting ‘wed-locked’.

MAMMA: Aha…but what’s the rush? She’s of your age na?

DAD : Darling…bad memory…the gal is exactly a year older…remember kuttu’s face on that 14th of February? She had rejected, telling “Hey…you are still a toddler”!!!

(If it weren’t my dad I would have poured a bucket of water over him for reminding me about that black Valentine ’s Day.)

ME:Well mamma…’astrology’ screwed her…they found a “CHOVVA dosham “…and that means a groom should also have the same ‘dosham’. And the parents are worried since they can’t risk throwing away the current proposal. They say it’s tough to get everything rightly placed at a time -“Nair” (a Hindu community), “Handsome”, “Chovva dosham”, “Profession”, “Family background”.
MAMMA: What is the problem with the current proposal then?

ME: The guy is 10 years older than her. Mamma…a 31 year old engineer cum bachelor must have some kinda defect

MAMMA: Well…kuttu..31 years…hmmm…you are right…the fact is… A 24 year old Engg.graduate will have a bank balance of his own…but a 24 year old “just MBBS” doctor will just have passed out of his college. I would demand an age gap of at least five between a couple. Am I right Raj?
DAD: Yes Senior

MAMMA: Whaaaaaaaaat?


DAD: Hey I was kidding honey. Well,Kuttu. You know what. Even the most liberal dad will spare time for a second thought when his son falls for a gal of a different community or a religion…


Even the most stringent atheist will wear a mask or use the time of a power cut to visit an astrologer to cross check his child’s ‘fate’ before marrying him off.


But don’t you worry son. Your dad is an odd-man. What is the big deal with all the ‘star troubles’? Even god is a concept manipulated for our own greed.

I don’t even worry about the dowry. Hi hi…a ‘doctor’ son will automatically win a few kilos of gold and at least a Chevrolet…well more ‘degrees’ means…Mercedes or BMW…HI HI…!!!


ME: That’s the spirit dad…that’s the spirit. You know mamma…did you notice our new neighbours? They have a gal…name’s Rhazia…and she’s just entering her college.

It rained last week. I had an umbrella and she didn’t.


Dad, she wants me to hurry…a muslim…she says her dad is already out, searching for a groom.

(I didn’t wait to enjoy the bewildered look in my ‘liberal cum hardcore communist-by-the-heart’ dad’s face. I rushed back having returned the empty glass to mamma.)