Pain and Punjabi music, Soothing and strawberries

-

 My toenail was hurting a fair bit and I went to the doctor, much against my will. He was going to pull out my nail because it has turned black and it had been bleeding for a while. I got fever yesterday and my head and hand had started hitting as well. I couldn't allow him to pull out my nail though. I screamed and he told me I was being a wuss and my nail wasn't really paining. Well, it was. It was. It was. I don't know why doctors and dentists don't believe that there is pain. Anyway he said that there was no way out and I had to just summon up the courage and get it done. I told him I needed time and could I get anaesthesia. He said that the injection would hurt more.

Anyway I called V, who had offered to come to the doctor with me. I don't know whether he really meant it or not. But I was very upset and I really was in a lot of pain. Talking to him was a mistake because he said it wasn't paining as bad as I was making it out to be (what is it with these men?) And he could come home and pull it out himself. I have no clue why he even offered that as a suggestion. Anyway, he perhaps sensed that all this tough talk was not helping so he has volunteered to come with me tomorrow. But I don't know. I am scared. Dear Ma Kali, please please ...just heal this overnight so I don't have to go to the doctor again. I am really praying for a miracle.

I didn't realise how sick I may have looked. My cook was quite concerned. She offered to massage my head. I thought I would go to Carter's for icecream. On the way, a girl stopped me and asked me if I was okay and if I needed to talk. That was so sweet. I told J also about my immense pain and all of her advice to me usually involves something from Star Wars or doodh haldi. Anyway, it is always reassuring to talk to her. Even if the advice is banal. 

Carter's was nice as was the strawberry gelato. 


And then I walked back home listening to songs that cheer me up:

1. Kudi nu nachne de: https://youtu.be/3lhQX5GvMe8

2. Udtaa Punjab (this is ONE HECK of an album): https://youtu.be/Ezsb5afVXQQ

3. Ex calling: https://youtu.be/3ierD2MJEjY (This singer's voice is so light and cheery. You imagine him smiling when he's singing even if he is singing about his ex).

Well, that was that for today. 


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Check (the) mate

-
My cousin, who was born sixteen hours before me, got married recently. I am expected to follow her footsteps soon. Thankfully, I have been granted more than sixteen hours to do that. My father’s health has taken a turn for the worse. My mother is completely exhausted. Rationally, points 1, 2, and 3 would be distinct from each other. But in my family there is no such thing as ‘rationally’. Therefore all these points are inter-related. Strangely, here, we believe my marriage to be an antidote to mortality and fatigue. I happened to be sitting in my parents’ room while Ma looked through Papa’s blood reports. They didn’t look good. Ma was worried and Papa didn’t help matters much. He kept talking about Sourav Ganguly and why he deserved better. Ma got further agitated and after flinging the reports somewhere inconvenient to retrieve (I should know), she snapped, “So what? There are many like him.” Papa doesn’t believe that and would have no one in his family believe that either. He went to...
Read more

Not the same, all the same - Rang de Basanti, being a Hindu, uniform civil code, and Hostage – in that unrelated sequence

-
I watched ‘Rang de basanti’. That, however, is not the point. Everyone now wants to go to Delhi and cruise around in jeeps at night. And that too is not the point. I need to say something. That, really, is the point. ‘Rang de…’ is a good movie but frankly, I’ve seen better. I’ve seen ‘Yuva’. It is creditable, though, that the movie could say what it did without using the ‘sage on the stage’ (as we say in Instructional Design) approach. The movie does have a couple of ideas that I have been besotted with for a long time now. One is the life of a story. There is the germ of an idea about men who go to their deaths cheerfully. There is fascination about what could inspire such courage in ordinary people. That story lays inside a diary for a long time. How long? Long enough for history to play itself out and begin the process of repeating itself. A nation goes the ‘Animal Farm’ way – humans out, pigs in. The story lays untouched – fermenting in latent vigor. Then someone discovers it. She ...
Read more

Save the Indian (male) child

-
This isn't exactly a feminist tirade, but this is written by a woman, and it is written in annoyance. You raise your girls to be sweet, strong, and independent. (Wise parents teach their children to listen to opinions and discard or heed accordingly. The other ones just teach their kids to bullshit everything that everyone says. Still others bring up girls to be on guard and forget that spine so that everyone thinks well of them. I am not sure which is worse, but I detest people shoving their opinions down other people's throats in a show of liberation, so I'll lean towards the former. But only slightly.) As the gender construct of being a 'female' is pushed even further, you teach your daughter complicated activities – driving, perhaps, sending them off away from home, wearing a sari (those freaking pleats!), cooking and de-veining prawns for added advantage. At the end of that, you have a person who genuinely dislikes blending into anything, doesn't like bei...
Read more