Life hasn’t been great lately. Well, it hasn’t been great at any point of time in my life, as my face structure and life choices will tell you, but last few months have been a little extra demanding. I don’t usually introspect, except once in my third semester when I probably had a rather strong dose of ‘herbal’ nebulisation, and went thinking about the meaning of life. In case you are wondering if I found it, yes, I did: “Carrom bambanu, juice peevanu, majja ni life.”
In my small little world, where everyone from my parents to my brother to my special someone has been overprotective of me, I’ve lived rather lavishly in an emotional sense. Yet somehow, I’ve spent the last few months pondering over what all is wrong in my life, so that I can feel Bollywood-ish and look outside my window like Ranbir Kapoor looks at the rain in a lot of his scenes. It will be closer to an uglier Ishant Sharma looking at the Delhi smog in my case, but worth a shot.
So, I tried and made a list of what I thought wasn’t going good for me, and here are a few unedited notes:
1. Least gratitude-inducing job in the medical world.
I’ll be honest here, my pay isn’t so much that I can go home and feel nice about my job because I get to spend the remaining day going online and buying things that I don’t actually need. My only shot at job-satisfaction being a doctor is a patient thanking me for my contribution to his health. My job as an anaesthesiologist ensures that my patients give me utmost respect when they say the words “Matlab aap apni field me exactly karte kya ho?”. It’ll never get old. Or less irritating.
2. Being away from my better(and saner)-half.
No matter how many promises she has made to me about tolerating me for the rest of her life or I have made to her about trying to come up with better jokes and not breaking into “mera rang De Basanti Chola” while passing the Indian Flag at CP, and better general conduct in front of her friends, a little insecurity is bound to creep in when one is in a long distance. She says she has made peace with it, but my friends tell me that the fact that she is dating me is enough to prove that her decision making is questionable. After all, she did say ‘yes’ to a guy whose number plate would probably read “BURI NAZAR WALE TU KYA UKHAAD LEGA, KISMAT PEHLE HI G**NDU HAI MERI”
3. Receding hairline.
May be it’s the tense exam-going year, or may be it’s the fact that I use Ayur/Patanjali shampoo to save money, or may be just unfortunate genetics, but my hairline is receding faster than Arvind Kejriwal’s common sense. A hair transplant will be a necessity in some years, or may be my contacts will ignore my balding head because my nose is still the funniest part of my face.
4. Exam-Going Post Graduate year.
I’m called an EGPG now by my peers, to which my usual reply is “behen ki gaali de do, EGPG na kaho”. My books make as much sense to me as GST makes to economists. Ask Arjun Kapoor to act well or ask me questions about my field, the response will be an awkward 10 minutes of err-umms followed by an amazing dance performance on “Hawa Hawa”.
The above nonsense can also be summarised as a sentence that I’m a mature-for-age doctor in a secure relationship about to be done with my MD degree soon, but what fun is that? Also, it doesn’t allow me to look out the window and imagine “Kabiraa” song playing in the background.
Apni chhoti si duniya me main khud ko hero samajhta hu.