A cube of cheese...

As a male kid growing up in India, I was never given a lesson on how to cook. But after I started staying out, away from my family I began experimenting. Maggi, Tea, Coffee, boiled eggs etc. I soon mastered the most basic stuff. My cooking skills stayed at that level for several years to come coz that was all I needed at times of need. But lately I have started experimenting again. Not coz I need to, but coz its making me happy. In my whole life I never thought that I would have any passion for cooking and here I am. I don't have a lot of space or resources in my tiny flat's kitchen. Primarily coz as I use it as a library, kinda. It houses all my books, notes, rough books, journals, dictionaries etc that I bought for my medical curriculum since I got here. Further I have never made any active efforts into learning how to cook. Just few months back I started taking interest in some simple exotic dishes. Cuz let me tell you, cooking Indian food requires a certain level of...

March 13th was observed as the great festival of Holi in India. A religious Festival which has now become the icon of Indian way of celebration all over the world, with vibrant colours, dancing and partying. I used to play with colours as a child but grew up thinking its lame and gross. Now I miss it more then ever. Four years here, and its today that I had a wonderful, enjoyable experience of Holi as a grown up. Of course, its more than just the colours that I would miss, its a combination of missing family and home, amazing food of my mum and our own local ways and customs of playing Holi. The first Holi in this city, we bought passes to a nice place where some professionals organized a booze party with DJ, which was all very new to me. In my native place, we just play with colours in the morning after a community bonfire last night (called Holika Dahan) and then visit all our neighbours and friends where we are greeted with lots of love and amazing...

This article is a continuation of the original post titled "Real Funny stories from my medical College", don't forget to read that too... Being in a Med-School is a pretty boring affair, but every once in a while entertaining things happen. While in the first part of the post, I talked about things we noticed as a new comer. Here I will talk about stuff happening as of late. So here we go. The Patients hate us-     Generally patients are supposed comply with us students taking up their cases for study and presentation. But they are understandably annoyed when it leads to hours of questioning and examination by students of various semesters. Some of them come down to even abusing us for the reason. Its rare though. The last time it happened, two of the girls in my batch were verbally abused in Marathi. It was atrocious but theres nothing we could do about it. While some male patients have a change of heart when they are to be physically examined by the beautiful f...

I will tell you one thing, I am not a very nice person when someone disappoints me as a customer. Its especially true when that someone is a big multi-billion dollar international firm. You might remember it from my shitty experience at the Café Coffee Day. From Idea Cellular to Hewlett Packard, here are some incidents where I avenged them single handedly on a phone call, or other wise. When Idea Cellular Stole from me- During my first year in the college, upon several localite's recommendation I picked up an idea cellular sim card and started using it as my primary contact. After a few months of service, it started spontaneously sending me to offensive sites to download pornographic pictures or videos, every time I tried to surf the net. It happened several times and each time they would deduct some amount of money from my account for "using" their services, in spite of the internet subscription being fully paid for already. One fine day when I was already mad a...

Calls and invitations are being sent to all the relatives now that my sister is getting married and everyone seems pretty excited about it. While I'm dead scared about what happens when all these people come under the same roof together. Our extended family like any other Indian family has camps which are highly politicised. Each family has to decide which camp they want to be in. While insecurities made a lot of those families to join some camp or the other, my parents boldly decided to fly solo. It means we do not lick other people's butt and don't give a shit of what's happening in other sides of the border. So its a phone call every once in a while to ask if they are still alive and formal invitations to marriages and funerals and vice-versa. It wasn't easy for my parents to cut off the strings but the decision was taken after they faced years of pretence, drama, back-stabbing and back-bitching, insults hurled behind their backs, intended misunderstandi...