Why do famous bloggers stop blogging?
1. Is it because they forget their username/password and get locked out of their blog?
2. Is it because they start new websites and write for the development of that site?
3. Do they lose their speech because some greedy female fan bit off their tongue (a species of Ardentophilus linguophagicus)? Aside– do ‘they’ have a tongue or several tongues?
4. Do they get elected President?
5. Do they rub shoulders in fashion events with scantily clad nymphs who look like Asian Paints representatives?
6. Do they lose their sense of humor and start writing columns for other websites?
In case you guessed it, here is a holiday for two to Alaska from me– here is a priceless depiction of the erstwhile blogger Rambodoc (now occasionally seen, like a horse in pajamas, in social media like Twitter or Facebook) on the ramp. The pictures of sundry Asian Paints representatives rubbing their ample assets on his strong arms have been deleted by the Indian Government.
Oh, and about the Alaska trip? Just buy the tickets. I will buy you a bear beer.
Posted in art, blog, blogging, culture, design, India, Kolkata, life, news, personal, society, world
Tagged fashion, KFW, personal
Over at his blog, the Six Pack Doc talks about balancing caloric intake after you have had a bad nutritional day, pigging out on food and causing nutritional havoc.
If you want to share the gory details of his nutritional excesses, please go there, and spare me!
So this patient of mine (and it was a tough day, lemme tell ya) is asking me in my Outpatient Department room, “So, Doctor, when you say drink a lot of water, why do you say that?”
Me: “Because it is getting hot, and you would lose a lot of fluids from your body.”
Patient: “And how much should I drink?”
Me (increasingly restless with the thought of more such specimen waiting outside): “Around 5 liters…”
Patient: “Should I drink all of 5 liters in the morning?”
Me: “Yes, definitely, if you can. But remember, if you do so, you should NOT drink any more water for the rest of the day.”
Patient (in auto-TV reporter mode): “And how should I drink this?”
Me: “By chewing every mouthful of water properly. Every time.”
There is a class of patient (usually the relative of one) who is born to be a TV reporter. One patient’s husband asked me questions like, “How do you know this doctor (the referring physician)?”, “Where did you study?”, “Are you a South Indian?” and even about my physical lackings (you know how people in India think you have TB if you are looking thinner and ask, “You have become so thin. You used to be more healthy in the past. Why is that?”). To this last question, my patience (not my patients, though) ran out and I said crisply, “Because camel’s milk, which I love to drink, is not available in the stores any more. Can you get me some?”
Then there are patients’ relatives whose stories would need blog posts in their own merit, so honorably funny they were.
Have you encountered the reporter types in the past?
Over at my new blog, I posted on the above topic, something I put in for DR of Health Habits.
I was among an elite group of health and fitness bloggers (from whom I learn on a daily basis) contributing to Fitness Guru DR at his blog Health Habits.
This is my contribution, and check out those of others by clicking this link:
“Indians are always geared to recession, though you may not understand that from the media reports of a resurgent and shining India. Indians are generally conscious of not wasting money, especially while giving it off to people (ask me, I have to take my fees out from my patients through their body orifices!). But, in these difficult times, being careful with your money is a policy that resonates easily with everyone here. We are all finally in one recession-hit global village today!
I have some suggestions:”
Go there if you want to read it.
Posted in blog, blogging, diet, fat loss, food, health, how-to, India, life, personal, world
After the minor display of irritation shown by some local youths in Lahore (that the world perversely perceived as a terror attack on the Sri Lankan cricket team), the ripples are rolling like the surface of a hijab blown by the wind. Cause: comments by the Brits.
Now, we all know how crazy they are.
(pic: the Jugum penis-UK, 1880-1920, device to prevent incontinence and masturbation)
Look at some of their historic medical devices– a large number being designed unsuccessfully to prevent men from becoming master baiters. They had too much time (and some other things) on their hands. Now, is it not obvious that Chris Broad is as crazy as the rest of them? At least that is the opinion of the 100-odd people in Pakistan who can tell the difference between a bazooka and a mashooka (most people in that peaceful country think they are both names for bombs). Former Pak cricket captain Mr. Javed Miandad, that high priest of reason, has called for Mr. Broad to be banned. A broadband connection is not difficult to make in Pakistan, these days, apparently.
Mr. Younis Khan, current Pak captain, is of the same opinion. Any reasonable man would realise that the world, recession-hit and with free time in hand, is plotting to give a bad name to Pakistan, whose reputation is right up there with Michael Jackson. Mr. Khan has said that “On top of that, if the kids here stop playing cricket when we become pariahs, they will become terrorists”. Which, Government sources say, would be a big deterioration from merely marrying into their families.
All sane men who carry assault rifles to the toilet understand this reality. The problem, as the Government sees it, is how to make the world understand that it (the world) is like a drug addict that needs to wake up.
Elsewhere in the world, Sanjay Gupta refused the offer of US Surgeon General because he wanted more time for watching pornography and self abuse (the technical term he used was ‘marriage’). He was puzzled to note some missed calls from Bill Clinton.
In an interesting coincidence, the New England Journal of Medicine published a paper showing cultural differences in sexual education and the ‘first time’ the young learn to have sex. The ‘Conclusion’ section is reproduced below:
American youth first learn to do sex when they lick ice cream cones or try charging iPods with their asses. A small minority learn sex around the same time they can pronounce the word ‘innocent’.
Indian boys first learn slapping and kicking, while the girls learn to deliver and breast-feed babies and get addicted to K serials, by which time they begin to understand how things might work.
Rich Indian-American boys learn the ‘withdrawal method’ first.
Mr. Sanjay Gupta will soon be doing a live program on this important subject, according to a spokesman identified only as a Mr. Larry K.
Posted in bakwaas khabar, blogging, commentary, Cricket, culture, education, humor, India, Indiyana, language, life, news, nonsense, politics, pun, satire, sex, sexes, society, Terror, USA, world
I have not had any urge to write all these days, and I can’t say I am in the best of mindsets to do a good job. However, here is a small essay written, with my active help, by my son. I hope you tolerate me for this. You cannot find a drier piece than this, I am sure.
I live in the city of Kolkata, surrounded by dusty buildings, most of them made of bricks, and some of them of a mix of thatch, wood, mud and plastic. The latter type of building makes for the shanties that freely thrive in my neighborhood.
In one such shanty lives Nandan. I have been seeing him for the last two years. Nandan does not study in my school. He works in a garage next door, by the side of the street.
At those times when the ball flies out of the building walls and lands in the garage (whenever we play cricket in our compound), Nandan is found ready with it, handing it over to us reluctantly. I have sometimes heard him being rebuked by his master for wasting time looking for the ball beneath some damaged car or the other.
Nandan looks like a grease monkey. Really. He works on his back, lying on the rough muddy ground and hands over tools to the car mechanic who is his teacher and mentor. As the day goes by, the muddied lubricants from the spare parts of the cars find their way from his hands to his face and neck. The only thing the black paint cannot hide is his brilliant smile. But that is something I have seldom seen.
Nandan does not play with us, as he is busy at work. When we are at school, he is at the workshop, and when we are playing, he is right there. We got talking sometimes, but not much.
While me and my friends are getting plumper watching TV and playing on the computer, he is thin as a rail. He cannot even find his country on a map, I found! He told me one day that he wanted to learn English and maths, and asked about how my school looked. I don’t know whether he believed me when I told him how grand and old my school was.
At home, Nandan gets to eat with his brothers (while I have none), but his mother is too busy with household work to talk to him or put him to sleep. Or else she is too busy fighting with other ladies in the shanties over whose turn it was at the toilet or the water pump. I have seen this many times from my verandah, high up in my building.
I am sure he must be getting bitten all over at night by bugs, while I sleep in comfort a few storeys above him. I sometimes wonder whether I deserve being better off than him, but then, this is not the age when I need to handle tough questions!
Posted in blogging, education, environment, family, fat loss, general, India, Indiyana, Kolkata, life, personal, random thoughts, society, world