The Placebo effect.

She often came to papa's clinic complaining of bodyache. Papa used to check her up followed by some injection, after which she used to get relieved for half a week or so. She was an old lady of 55+ who looked 10 years older than her age. But she was generous with a grin which made her look like a 'grizzled-wrinkled kid'. Her regular visits made me ask papa if she had some serious ailment, to which he smiled and replied, "beta, its called the Placebo effect. Welcome to the world of Human psyche!" ( He told me that the old woman had no organic illness, but she was frustated for some unknown reason, and often tried to seek attention through posing sick).

"No books are lost because of lending, except those one particularly wants to keep !"
This was the statement by one of my friends that triggered me to blog about it, even though I'd myself felt it the same way. For ex. When i used to go to the college reading-hall to study, i used to carry 5 kilograms of back-pack, just to make sure i don't miss even the least usable book because i knew i would certainly need the book, which is forgotten back in the hostel.

Now i am tempted to write about 'Greedy approach' here.
Whenever i am alone in any closed elevator, i feel like making weird faces and giving funny dance poses (it could be to avoid the latent claustrophobia), and i often do that, unreasonably hoping that it would not open in any of the floors passing by...

Jugheady woes!

"Now there are more overweight people in India than average weight people. So overweight people are now average; which means i have met my new year resolution."

"O docsaab, your wife has borne a beautiful, healthy baby angel..." *fireworks & crackers* "OOO she is so chubby, so cute!!" *cheek pulling* And so it had started.

One of the earliest compromises life had taught me was if you have big cheeks, no matter how much you cry\jump\yell\beg, people are going to pull them atleast once! Be it your contemporary kiddos, elder cousins, old uncles-aunties or teachers. And the deadliest ones were the 'granny' section of the family. They would not only pull cheeks but also smother you with zillions of kisses asphyxiating the young rolypoly!!

In a way, it was nice as i attracted a lot of attention owing to the baby fat on my face, but once u enter the 'irksome' adolescence when u want to look like Hannah Montana, this pad of adipose tissue starts giving u sleepless nights... but since i was too healthy even mentally, i never got into the circle of anorexic psyche.

Somehow i was always too lazy for gyming and food was a temptation i could seldom resist. Thank heavens for my 'tall' genes which effectively covered up for my unhealthy habits.

Do i sound, err FAT??? (ah, even the word looks offensive!!!!)

'God grant me the serenity to accept the things i cannot change, courage to change the things i can & wisdom to know the difference."

*Hariom*

Everyone is entitled to be stupid; but some abuse the privilidge.

I thought to dileneate a few intricacies of human psyche, and even before jotting them down, i must warn those, who would go ahead to read this piece, that the article below may not be in coherence with my usual pen-style. It would be beyond stupidity, but someone of you might relate to it.

*It was a colossal building with one of the most jaw-dropping interiors i'd ever seen, and i was dining there, with my folks and few others whom my father had asked me to address as Sir\Mam. I was so much taken aback by the beauty of the antique jardiniere in the hall, that i forgot the table-manners my mother had admonished me about. "I want to loo fast..." i said aloud. Yes, i was just 10 (so what if i looked elder-for-my-age), and i was a good-looking kid clad in pink, but that did not prevent me from getting surprised glances from everyone and one hard stare from my mother across the table. I must admit that at that very moment i really wanted to loo faster than ever. I was very scared of my mother, who is an otherwise a loving lady, except that she can produce some frightening sound by gritting her teeth (and i still get goose bumps when she does that). She murmured an excuse for my faux pas, and took me to the ladies' room.
I was ushered inside an enormous room with a speckless pot and basin on a corner. As i pushed the door and looked for a latch, there was none! I was confused. I reopened it, and tried to close it again, and again, and again. Everytime it closed but since there was no latch, like we had in ours...i got worried if someone might open it half-way. It was later my mum told me that these doors have an automatic lock system.
But the bent of my mind till date is such that whenever i have to use such a room, i feel cautious, and check the door atleast four times to make sure that it has an automatic lock.

*I had always seen my mum buying the packet of bread in a peculiar way. She would inspect all the packets and after selecting the best two, she would squeeze them (pichak-pichak) both to check which one is fresher and then would ask the shop-keeper, "bhaiya taaza hai na?" to which he'd a chronic reply, "Ji madam, aaj hi aaya hai". As a kid, i found that funny.
Today, I do the same whenever i purchase bread, even if it's from the best bakery in the town, i squeeze it (pichak-pichak) twice to make sure i-dun-know-what and ask the shop-lad if it's fresh. And surprisingly, they all reply me the same.

*My father taught me driving when i was 14. I used to mix-up between gears, i had to read it from the head-top of the gear, and it went on for long. I could well control the wheel but even after a lot of explaining and deliberate practice, i was muddle-headed with the gear-box. So my father told me once, 'Aage jaane ke liye speed jyada chaiye, toh gear ko aage push karo, third gear is faster...' So i made a mental note that time: 'push the gear ahead, it will push your car ahead'. Now i have been driving for the past 10 years, and i know that the car moves faster on the fourth gear, but still whenever i am on a clean patch, lost in some deep thoughts...i drive in third gear. Subconsciously, my car moves faster in third gear.

*This is wierd, and so me-ish!
I identify myself with indefinite pronouns. Whenever someone\anyone will be called, i'd assume it's me. Whenever everyone is asked to do something, i'd feel i am responsible for it. I don't remember the exact instance when it started but it kinda feels strange at times. If a teacher announces in the class that noone has done well in the test, then i feel bad 'coz i am 'noone'.
I wonder what could have caused this??

*end abrupts*

Sweet Nothings of a vacant-head...

"Hey, have you tried your hands on sarcasm?"
"yeah, a phantom one." I snapped without looking up and adjusting my glasses to fit better on my nose.
"Okay, i thought you were those serious-types...."
"I am all serious. My grandfather died with a frown." This time i looked up.

This was a one of our humbug conversations. In all the ways, except one. It tickled a long-lost nerve within me. A nerve to relax! A nerve to appreciate Calvin and hobbes as much as Kane n Abel...to enjoy Main jhooth nahi bolta as much as Matrix (bless all Neo-fanatics)...

FLASHBACK....

I was a born sweetener. Too sweet a neonate- too sweet a toddler- too sweet a kid... and when the process of my ripening into too sweet a girl began, nobody was taken by surprise.
Morons excited me even then. They had something innate which i lacked badly. As a growing kid, i remember trying to imitate them and failing miserably. I wanted o be a poker-faced, churlish bugbear whom people should evade from.
*me and my whims*

So started the process....

(Winning is an inherent trait)
I became a quiet, sullen lass who'd maintain the economy of her words no matter what, keep everyone at an arm's length, and give a mind-your-own-buissiness look!
I was happy assuming that this would keep the sugar-coated diabetic mob at bay.
*Gods were laughing*
I caught more attention by the pseudo-intellects!! To my surprise, people were enhanted by my outward coldness. *people:strange, per se*
I came back to my ground level, leaving a lot of people on tenterhooks with raised eyebrows....*smiles*
I was born sweet. Effusively, life added its aloofness to it. But i stopped maneuveuring with the natural 'I'.
*A devilish grin*

'Nature allows no vaccuum.'