TPA

There's something about Hospitals and their sign-boards and well, me. Another hospital- Rockland this time and another sign-board that read- Cash/TPA.

My brother and I had a lot of time to kill so we decided to spend it by figuring out what-the-blazes-in-the-world could TPA stand for. The following are the few full-forms (in decreasing order of relevance and sense) we came up with till we got fed up with the exercise and asked a nurse what it did mean after all.

Total Payable Amount
Therapeutic Painless Administration
Third Person Account
Total Patients Admitted
Total Pain Alleviated
Total Patient Aaram
Troubled Patients Allowed
Talli/Tun Patients Approved
Temperature Pain Ache
Throat Protection Apparatus
Tooth Pick Ache
Toxic Pathogen Ascertained
Tauba Patients Aaye
Tonight's Party Arranged
Theoretical Practical Analytical
Toilet Paper Association
Throw Pillow Around
Tum Pass Aaye
Tootha Phoota Association
Tohar Paise Amaar

The thing is what TPA stands for happens to be Third Party Administrators. How very boring!

The Fall and Rise of Roger Federer

Another Sunday. Another Men's Grand Slam Final. Another jam-packed stadium. The only thing out of place was the finalist. Conspicuous by his absence was Federer's nemesis- Rafa, his place taken by a snowed under Soderling. And, as if by divine intervention, Federer finally won the elusive French Open.

What else can explain Rafael Nadal's absence from his Mecca- the clay court, if not fate? Because had he been there on the court last night, Federer would have had to fight a battle of the indomitable human spirit yet again and in all probability he would have lost- again.
Because had the Spaniard been there yesterday, he would have been in his element and exactly what he is- a bull. A non-tiring, inexhaustible veritable mine of energy. (I sometimes feel he is a mutant or a super-human, genetically engineered, perhaps?)
Because had Rafa won again, Fedex would have cried. And this time, my heart would not have gone out to him the way it did at the Australian Open finals.
But, all these things didn't happen, because destiny finally decided to bestow her smile on Federer and he did cry after all, but there was no mistaking the joy and pride in those misty, dewy eyes.

Jimmy Connors once said "In an era of specialists- you're either a clay court specialist, a grass court specialist or a hard court specialist...or you're Roger Federer."

It is generally agreed upon that Federer is the greatest tennis champion the world has seen for a while. Federer has reached where he is by sheer grit and tenacity. And he needed this win- not to prove to the world the champion that he is, but to vindicate himself. After all, a winner needs to set personal benchmarks, to be the best of the best. And, if it really takes a little bit of luck, a certain tweaking of the circumstances, an evident absence of a worthy opponent to get a hold of what is rightfully yours, so be it. What is meant to be- will be. (He'll take care of Rafa another day!)

So, what exactly does Federer teach us? More importantly, what is that we can learn from him? The Roland Garros cup (and the other innumerable cups and shields) will always serve to remind him and all of us that perseverance and skill are always rewarded. No one can fake effort; talent is great, but determination is necessary.

Federer reminds me of the Phoenix- the mythical bird of lore- his tendency to fall but his ability to rise again; to embrace defeat but acknowledge its learning; to accept fame but be wary of its fallouts; to welcome a winning streak but always with humility; to allow tears but recognize their healing power. And that's what makes a true champion. Way to go, Fedex!

Looking forward to a Wimbledon Fed-Rafa final. And praying for an emphatic Federer win!

AngLES & DeMOANS- Part II

My bro also got the lucky chance to watch A & D at the same theatre where I had the pleasure of viewing it. Apart from the movie, he got a wonderful opportunity of watching a 15 minute documentary titled "Kafann" about alcohol and its effects. After every 2 minutes, someone screamed "Kafann" to emphasize that that's exactly what you'll be wrapped in case you watch movies at this cinema hall; Oops, I meant, that's what in store for you in case you consume more alcohol than you can buy. Also, he saw the silent version of A & D when the sound was turned off for 5 minutes during the film climax. Phew! And, to top it all, he ate stale popcorn and survived to tell the tale. The food isn't poisonous there after all. Wonder what makes people puke then.

What can I say- life is unfair. I missed "Kafann"- sounds so much better than A & D!

AngLES & DeMOANS

The movie distributors - multiplex owners standoff is resulting in very interesting consequences, the most prominent of course being that new movies are being run at non-descript cinema halls. So, I had to go and watch A & D at such a weird theatre near me, which happens to be in R.K.Puram and in case, Aap Panchvi Pass Se Teez Hai, so you'd know which movie hall I am talking about.

Anyway, it was an amazing, life-changing experience. Just makes you realize that you should be thanking God all the time for multiplexes and their lesser revamped, renovated singleplexes. Anticipating a very high turnout for the movie, I thought I'd call up and find out about ticket availability.
Me: Hello, are you currently airing Angels & Demons?
Hall Personnel: Yes, we are airing AngLES & DeMOANS.
Me: In English, right?
Hall Personnel: Of course.
Me: Would tickets be available, let's say for the 3:30 show?
Hall Personnel: Depends- You never know. (I bet he had a twinkle in his eye when he said that but I couldn't confirm it over the telephone line)

As it turns out, I really did not know, because the tickets were so easily available that if I had walked in the next day, I still would have got tickets for the previous day. 100/- Balcony- Imagine! But, let me assure you, a 100/- ticket is not as good as it sounds.

The theatre was, well, in a dilapidated state. It seemed like the roof would cave in any moment. And guess what, there were fans and tube lights there- lends a whole old meaning to surround-sound and light; though I think am being hyper-critical, the fans seem to have been fit-in to circulate the AC air. The seats were fixed, wouldn't budge- neither hither nor thither and the one next to mine looked as if it had been puked on, which wouldn't really be surprising coz the beverages and food being served looked positively poisonous. One very interesting and beneficial feature, though, provided at the theatre was a Spit Box.

Where do you find these in multiplexes? I mean- think about it, if in the middle of a movie, you get an insane urge to spit, what would you do? Where would you go? What- Where, indeed.

A very odd smell permeated the entire area. Could it be because the ladies toilet was broken and under repair? Well, if people are allowed to spit and vomit to their hearts and stomachs content, wouldn't peculiar smells be a theatre owner's USP?

The movie didn't begin a full 25 minutes after the scheduled timing. Everyone was waiting with bated breath (what a surprise) for some special event, Sitaram Yechury included. And as soon as a few enthusiastically bored audience members of the front stall started hooting, catcalling and jeering in general the movie began promptly.

Okay, now for the "film" review- it's a good movie- way better than The Da Vinci Code. It's good to see Tom Hanks return to 1/8th of his usual self. And Ewan McGregor is absolutely yummy. Are we allowed to speak like that about actors who are playing wannabe-popes? Please forgive my sin, Father.

P.S. - The book was better. Aren't books anyway and any day?

Deja Vu!

I came across the following sign on an elevator at Fortis Hospital:

Come Into The Hands Of Our Experts!

I am not very sure if this even requires further comment but me being me, I just can't help myself!

The sense of deja vu is creeping in from all quarters simply because I'm trying to understand if something is incredibly wrong with me or has the scientific establishment gone bonkers? It's a hospital for God's sake- they operate on all organs, they have all kinds of doctors, they administer and cure a variety of conditions but perhaps the English language is too perplexing an ailment that can be diagnosed. Or is this a straightforward case of doctoring?

I am just not ready to believe that not a single soul at the hospital recognized such a double entendre. I guess the only thing I can be thankful for is they didn't choose a phrase like- Our Experts Will Never Let You Come Again! [Back to the Hospital, of course; what were you thinking???] ;)

Dung Ho!

200,000-year-old human hair found in dung.
Paleontologists have discovered strands of hair belonging to a human who lived 200,000 years ago in fossilized hyena dung from a cave in South Africa. Lucinda Backwell, a paleontologist at the University of Witwatersrand in Johannesburg, South Africa, found 40 strands of hair preserved inside the dung. “This find is so unusual as the human fossil record at this time is exceedingly poor, and of course hair is fragile and degrades easily. It is the first non-bony material in the early hominid fossil record,” Backwell said. Experts think it could belong to the first Homo sapiens who evolved 195,000 years ago but the possibility that it could come from a totally new human species was also not ignored.

I came across this piece of news recently in the Times of India. Now, the question is not why it's exciting or relevant or intriguing or worth-being-blogged-about, the question is why, why and why-in-the-world would anyone experiment on dung? Fossilized hyena dung? How can anyone know that some dung, any dung is a hyena’s? And well, really, if you can tell the difference between the various types of excreta, you need to rethink your life’s aims & ambitions. Was it ugly? (That’s a wrong question of course.) Was it emitting a weird kind of laughter?

I just did a wiki on our hyena friends; seems like you wouldn’t really like to have one by your side; they look and sound real dicey characters to me. First, they are extremely conscientious when it comes to dietary behavior, they’ll eat you up whole if you happen to be zonked and befriend them. And when I mean whole, I mean whole- bones, skin, teeth and horns too if you happen to be flaunting some fashion fad. Second, they are born with their eyes open and teeth already fully developed. To me that signifies extremely highly developed senses- Extra Sensory Perception- and that anyway automatically qualifies one’s entry in the psychotic-wannabe bracket. Third, they belong to a group of mammals that commit neonatal siblicide. In simpler terms, in case 2 chaps/babes are born, one will end up killing the other ASAP. Gives quite a turn to the phrase sibling rivalry and makes me an extremely benign sister.

Well, it can be easily determined that how questionable the dung of such sinister beings would be like. Is that what makes it so very apparent and recognizable? A little more online digging helps in establishing that the various species of the hyena clan maintain latrines far from the denning area where the dung is deposited. So, did the paleontologists discover a DDD- a Designated Dung Ditch? And how could they be so sure that this particular DDD belonged to our giggling pals and not to some other distant relative who practiced its excretory habits in a DDD too?

Moving on to the more pertinent discovery of human hair- what exactly do we hope to “discover” by the presence of the 40 strands? That human hair can survive in feces? That non-bony material flourishes in a ‘number twos’ habitat? That the usage of spoor and droppings can be investigated in the manufacture of hair conditioners?

My gripe is not with the purpose or the validity of the research specifically but with the research itself per se. But then again, I wonder if it is just me or is something really wrong with the scientific community? There are so many worthwhile things that can be investigated, discovered, unraveled- a practical example could be to ascertain the psychology of an individual who is the right behind you in a standstill, mind-numbing traffic jam but still insists on honking away to glory.

I guess my thinking is just not perceptive enough- if vanilla fragrance and flavoring can be extracted from cow dung, hairs can certainly be mined from a hyena’s poo!

You've got chat!

I had this conversation below, a few days back, with a very dear friend's hubby:

GagL: hey
can i ask for a favor?
me: sure
GagL: if u r not busy?
me: go ahead
GagL: has wifey mentioned any new friends recently like from her work?
me: naa
v hvnt talked abt her office
GagL: or has she mentioned some new acquaintances anywhere else?
me: naa- she hasn't
GagL: ok
one ques
did she have any boyfriends at school if u dont mind?
i mean was she a flirty type?
me: no- she wasnt
& naa she dint hv any boyfriends
not dat i know of
but i would hv known had she had any
GagL: ok
just wondering these days
me: i guess it's normal 2 wonder but really u hv nothing 2 worry abt
GagL: i guess i am getting paranoid
but
sometimes.......
one wonders..........
me: seriously GagL, pls put dis out of ur mind
nothing 2 worry abt
GagL: i can put things out of my mind
but my eyes cannot deceive
and neither can my ears
something is up
me: c'mon
i dont believe it
GagL: i didn't either
me: she really loves u
datz wat she says alwayz
GagL: but she really has a thing for men in power positions
i mean
men who have more influence than i
me: talk 2 her den
i don't know abt anything
GagL: and lately she has started acting moodily
and wants to spend more time in office
but nobody is there
i know it
the phone rings and nobody picks up
she comes home and claims she is not hungry
i know why
the other day i say a restaurant receipt in her purse
i am telling u
something is up
some guy named iqbal
she was even saying his name in her sleep i think
u sure she has not mentioned anything?
ok
in this time of crisis all have turned their backs......
that's ok
later
i will get to the bottom of this mess
once and for all
me: hey sorry- sum1 was @ my seat
i really hv no idea
i m sorry- i really don't know how can i b of help
GagL: marry me then....that will teach her a lesson

Oh yes, it took me all this while to realize that I was the butt end of quite an elaborate joke. Now, that I go through this little chitty-chat, I realize I should have picked up the nuances relatively early- first "power positions" & then "guy named iqbal" was a dead giveaway. Well, all I can say GagL, is that I whole-heartedly acknowledge your conniving abilities and am glad that I provided you such a wonderful opportunity to laugh your head and backside off.

Just wait till I get back!

And, you know what- I might just marry you, just so as to teach you a lesson!