The Blog Turns Four And I Refuse To Grow Up

October has always been one of my favorite months, because during childhood it meant less number of school days given all the holidays it has to offer across religions, hence signifying India as a secular, but above all a holiday-loving nation of lazy bums, and now in adulthood it means a month with beer deals at almost every bar because although Oktoberfest is a September festival, but restaurant managers in CP do not believe in general knowledge or wikipedia research. October is a special month personally too because it is the month I met the most important people of my life, like the shady guy I used to rent comic books from and my garbage guy who wipes out every evidence of party from my place. And my girlfriend. Also, 4 years back, on this day, I started this blog.

There have been many conspiracy theories as to why I started this blog. I say that I wanted to share my jokes with the world. My friends say that I am a pathological chatterbox, so when I am alone, I satisfy my urge to produce words by writing, though when I am alone, producing words is not the only urge that I have. #CompulsorySharmaNonVegJoke. My mother says, well, she just screams Punjabi demeaning words at me because I spend too much time on my cellphone. 4th anniversary seems like a good event to be finally honest, so I should tell you, I started this blog because I wanted how it was to be able to say anything on a social platform and get away with it because people don’t read blogs anyway. 

I decided to keep the theme of the blog ‘humor’ because I thought I was funny. Going by the same logic, I could have easily become a fashion blogger too because my mother says, and I quote, “I am her Sundar Rajkumar”. A fashion blog by me would have failed mainly because firstly, my cleavage is too hairy to look good in a dress, and secondly, my mother is much better at sarcastic humor than what I initially thought. I have written a lot of posts in the past four years, and while most of my original jokes have got me pitiful looks and/or death threats, a few jokes have cracked the audience up, but most of those jokes might have been ‘inspired’, and that makes me Anu Malik of the blogging world. 

In the last four years, a lot has changed in the world and my life. The world has started appreciating men who sacrifice their sanity to bring a change in this world, but enough about Kejriwal and Donald Trump for one post. The world has seen Bollywood break the gender barrier in terms of playing a character, and Sonakshi Sinha and Tiger Shroff are just the start in that direction. I have gone from an MBBS student to an MD student with a significant decrease in the frequency of getting humiliated (down from annually to once at the end of three years). I have entered a long distance relationship which has given her the option to say “Hello! I can’t hear you!” and put the phone down, which is the long-distance (and slightly more polite) equivalent of ‘showing the middle finger and walking off’. A lot of friends are already done or are getting married soon, which makes me realise the importance of the institution of marriage and  the concept of Tharak in our culture. I have come a long way in the last four years, except this blog, may be.

I still practise writing the same nonsense bollywood/medical jokes here, and to be honest, I did face writer’s block these past few months. More than content, I have felt short of topics to write about and poke fun at, and this is when I live in a part of a state of which Manoj Tiwari of ‘Jiya tu Bihar ke lala’ fame is the Member of Parliament. 

I refuse to give up though, because I am not a quitter, but more than that no one wants to listen to me in person anymore, so this blog is perhaps my only outlet. I request you readers(excluding my own fake accounts I created to increase my readership) to suggest me any topic on which you think I can write 6 paragraphs worth of incoherent blabber. In return, as a thanks, I promise I won’t pester you to like, share and subscribe to my posts.

Just kidding! Chocolate chalega?

NotInTandem continues…

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Not-So-FAQs About My Tattoo

In this small life of 26 years, I have done quite a few things to boost my self-confidence, like making a fool out of myself dancing on stage at my college freshers’ event, going on a one day trip rediscovering myself alone(which was mostly drinking beer in an AC hotel room because north Indian summers are a bitch), and most recently, getting a permanent tattoo. Getting a tattoo, according to a lot of instagram celebrities (also known as ‘fashion bloggers’ or women who click too many selfies inside a Zara trial room), is a liberating thing, as it makes you feel closer to your body, and though not applicable in every (and especially mine) case, a few extra likes for that new off-shoulder Mango top. 

In this post, I will try and answer a few questions that people usually ask me once they have recollected their senses after looking at my tattoo and shouting “Ye kya hai BC!!

Q: Why did you get a tattoo?

I can give a lot of wannabe-ness as an answer to this, like it made me feel liberated, closer to my soul, for nostalgia and pride, but for right now, I’ll be honest. I just wanted to take the focus off my crooked nose. 

Q: Why did you get it on this part of your body?
Women get it on the back of their shoulder because they usually have nice backs as well as nice clothes to show it off. Men, who can not do that because backs in this part of country are too hairy for anyone’s comfort, usually work out and get tattoos on biceps and chest because they have ripping muscles in those regions. By the same logic, it makes complete sense that I got my tattoo on my right forearm, which, oddly enough, may be the only part of my body with well-developed muscles. 

Q: What did you get?

I got a pair of drum sticks to denote my love for percussion, but the pair mostly looks like chop-sticks, and even though I like chinese food, I’m sure fungal growth on my plate would be faster than my eating speed using chopsticks. 
I also got a pen to signify my love for writing humor. Even though I type my blogs on my phone, but a pen was better than getting a qwerty keypad tattooed on my body. That would have been stupid AND expensive, an adjective combination usually reserved by middle class people for lingerie. 
I also got a stethoscope, because no matter how much my professors may argue, I passed MBBS with my own brains, and meri degree KHREEDI HUI NAHI HAI. The steth might look like a computer mouse from a distance but that is what should happen when your thinking, character and tattoo bill combined together are cheaper than a Littmann. 

Q: Why does it look so funny?

It was supposed to be a personal idea, not some Picasso level work of art. Also, I went to Rajouri and not South Delhi because if I have more than five thousand rupees to spend, I would go Russian for a day (well, night) than get Inked forever.

Q: Did it hurt?

On a scale of 1-10, where 1 is pain just after getting out you-know-what stuck inside the trousers zip, and 10 is getting kicked in the groin, my pain score was *insert Tushar Kapoor sounds from Golmaal movie*. 

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I Could Be Your Average Multi-Talented Anaesthesiologist. 

Many famous philosophers of the world have said that a person without a hobby and talent is like a Bollywood movie without song and dance (OK, so only Shah Rukh said it, but then I have never read good philosophy, and the only time I have read Oscar Wilde is while stalking women and their photos on social media). I’m doing MD in Anaesthesiology and Critical Care (and Hospital Politics, Android Gaming and art of General Gossiping), hence I do find some spare time both inside OT and away from it to hone my multiple talents. This post is dedicated to show of talent inside OT, because outside the OT the usual scheme of things involves getting drunk and sleeping in a nerve-damage inducing posture, which is just a rather pathetic lifestyle, not a talent. 

So, yours truly, an average multi-talented anaesthesiologist, can…

…remove gloves and slingshot them into the red bag (or an area within 2.5 meter radius around it) from any corner of the OT. When I succeed, I do the usual Cristiano Ronaldo celebration, but when I don’t, I make a severely apologetic Darsheel Safary-level utterly gareeb face when the nurses are shouting at me for littering around or my shot has ricocheted off somewhere and hit the surgeon.

2. …break the ampoulle in one clean stroke without hurting myself with a success rate of 68%. The rest 32% of times, the right hand thumb ends up looking like Robb Stark’s wife in the ‘The Red Wedding”, and me and the right hand have to practice abstinence for that day, because although may be mard ko dard nahi hota (hoga), but a sudden penetration of glass into your thumb can be more painful and tear-inducing than accidentally running into a 60-year old couple busy behind the bush at the Budhdha Garden. 

3. …hum the entire playlist of every FM channel on the radio in emergency OT. Of course it is unethical to subject the patient to my voice which, on best days, sounds like Himesh Reshammiya being given Heimlich’s manoeuvre. But trust me, if given a choice between hearing a surgeon’s “Oooh, what organ is this one?” or “Oh no! Not the artery again!” and my unintentional Anu Malik impersonation, you know what anyone would choose.  #AlwaysBlameTheOtherGuy

4. …can completely forget about exam dates and, at times, patient care too, to write blogs in grammatically incorrect English decorated with laughable vocabulary. If you think reading my jokes is tough, then count your blessings that you do not have to hear me in person. You think Bobby Deol as a DJ is bad? I’ll make you beg for something as good as DJ Bobby Deol.

Or as Dharmendra puts it, DJ ‘Condoms are, after all, only 97% effective’ Deol.

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