Tag Archives: Health

Winter Agony

January 26, 2013 Ramu Das 9 Comments

Oh this weather! Oh the suffering! I’ve received a chilly greeting from the very beginning of this chilly season. Oh winter, why haven’t you been nice to me this time? Some may like this season, some may not. But no matter you like it or not, it will keep recurring year after year, as so has always been the nature (quality) of nature from time immemorial.

Chest cold, and I’m coughing like some hardcore smoker coughs. I’ve a high body temperature, headache, runny nose (I’ve to sniff every time). My throat pains. My tonsil is hurting. This noisy explosion of air from my lungs is unbearable, to me as well as to the bystanders. At a distance do my friends move, as if they might get hurt, as if a bullet chases them. Perhaps they’ve started considering me a boor by now. “Go away, then, you might be shredded into pieces by the bullet coming out of me.” I want to say but I don’t say. It will make things worse, I know.

And I think bum is the wrong place for a boil, for the area is very sensitive and the pain is excruciating. Had it been in other areas of the body such as the hands or the legs or maybe the shoulder I wouldn’t have complained a wee bit. However, I would have equally complained, had the boil made its place beneath my nose (this area too is extremely sensitive), or on my face, I fear it would damage the handsomeness of my precious face ( ha! – that’s a joke).

I’m not sure if any of these diseases and infections got anything to do with winter, but, since, all these have been making my life miserable in this season of the year, I have no choice but to curse this season, at least this time. Even a little pain in this season seems unbearable. But, I’m pretty sure, married couple or newly wedded couple would prefer winter than summer. I still have enough time for it, I guess.

Today is our Republic Day (that is the 26^th January, here in India). The secondary school near my house has organized a function. I can hear the loud music coming out of the speakers. I can also feel the vibration that is produced by the dancers stamping on the wooden stage (wooden? Yes, that’s what my brother told me, and I gladly believe him, as he had been to the function a little earlier). But I cannot go out and be a part of the celebration; I’m homebound, as for now. I have become so weak that I can’t even walk to and fro. I can just sit in the chair, that too, turning more towards the left side. Why? Because of the damn boil! Oh, this small swollen thing has made my life pathetic. Anyway, I hope everything will be fine soon.

Day 26.365 - Republic Day (India) — Day 26.365 – Republic Day (India) (Photo credit: Akshay Shah)

Happy Republic Day to all fellow citizens of India!

LETTERS, SATIRE AND HUMOR

A Letter To My Ex-Girlfriend

September 8, 2012 Ramu Das 20 Comments

NB: This letter is supposedly written in a drunken state of mind

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O personality of sinful actions!

I’m sorry that I need to write this letter to you, but I really need to do it. As I write to you I’m drinking to my heart’s content in a bar; with my left hand I’m holding a bottle of wine, –my only company at the moment– and with my right hand I’m scribbling and doodling on a piece of paper all the high thoughts which are clouded with sadness over my mind. Believe me; believe everything I write, people here complain that I’m excessively drunk, and that, time has come for me to leave the bar… you see, it’s just 3 o’clock in the morning, and they want me to leave, morons! They are not people, as I see them, they are potatoes… no! They are lizards, no, no they are dragons. Ha ha ha! I’m drunk! I’m drunk! Drunk, drunk… drunnnkkk! achoo! Am I drunk?

I ordered the waitress to pour me the 100^th glass of wine a while ago, now she comes, she looks dashing in her attire, three quarter’s full is her face, she is not a potato, she is an angel, and her ruby-red lips tempts me to have a word or two with her. She gives me a wink and is pouring down the wine hesitantly. But why is she hesitating to serve her customer? Perhaps she doesn’t want me to get over drunk; [doesn’t she know I’m over drunk already?] Why is she being caring, does she like me? I know, she’d like me now but at last she’d turn as knavish as you were. So let me better concentrate on the letter –the words are flying though, or so I see– and not get trapped this time, for I’m already too weak in the heart. Let me pour my blue blue heart out by writing when the lovely waitress pours down the red red wine on my glass. Truth comes out from the heart when a person is drunk, also speaks of love and hate, but truth and only truth a person speaks when chemically imbalanced he is made.

Hold on, let me take a sip, and my mind’s chain let me unzip.

Done.

Ah, yuck! It’s as bitter as you were! Your bitter love and thoughts are running through my heart and spine and brain and… aha… ah… achoo!

What I intend now to say is… is… is… I loved you truly; I liked your smile, your laugh, and your beautiful black glistening eyes, I liked the curl of your hair, I liked the touch of your soft skin, I liked your sexy voice, and I liked your smell, too… I liked everything about you … But you broke my heart, You… You… You… broke my heart! You broke the heart of the greatest literary figure of 21^st century, you shall never be forgiven for that, mind you!

Now, a potato comes to me and puts in his hands on the pocket of my Levis jeans, takes out my purse and a wad of thousand rupee notes from it, I say nothing, instead, I give him the rest of the money –coins– I’ve on the other pockets of my pant and shirt.

Am I drunk?

I feel like vomiting and the world seems upside down, I try to move but every time I try, I fall down, and I’m falling down now. A gorgeous young woman is helping me to stand straight by slipping her arms around my hips; I keep staring at her and finally say: ‘chick, I like your boobs, they bounce well.’ As I said that, instead of getting a ‘thank you’ from her, I hear an echoing sound as though someone has slapped someone hard on the face, but who has slapped whom? Now a lizard approaches me, a speaking lizard it is, and utters something like: ‘Don’t beat this man, he is drunk.’ As he speaks he points his finger at me, ah, he’s referring to me, and the wicked woman just slapped me! She is a bitch! But I couldn’t feel any pain; perhaps the wine has made me stronger. Now, I want to see if any damage has occurred to my precious face by the slap of that disgusting woman. Looking at mirror I see: one me, two me, three me, four me, five me, oh! What the fuss is all about? What is happening? I am drunk, drunk, drunk, I am… brmmmmmmppp!

Tell you what. [What?] Since the time you left me, I’ve realized that I’m a good-looking man with whom many girls want to spend time. You see, love is really blind for it blinded me and I could see no one but you and only you. But, now my eyes are wide open, and I’ve awakened from the deep slumber of your bitter love. And what is this I see? I see everything as I wished they were. Believe me, even Angelina Jolie is saying she’s tired of Brad Pitt, and she’s more than willing to let her children call me their dad. She says she’d help sign me a deal with Warner Bros! That means I’ll be the next Superman of Hollywood.

But, to hell with that life! I don’t want to be with Angelina Jolie or any other girls. I’m a man of integrity, you know. I cannot act like the bollywood’s hitman Emraan Hashmi who asks for sugar from every less seductive girl, and tries to dip his beak in every other girl.

How are you? How is your new love? Caught a big fish this time, eh? Hope you’ve told him that you would love him till the end of your life just like you told me once. This perhaps you’ve said to gazillion of other guys foolish enough to have fallen for you. Tell me; tell me, what magic spell did you whisper this time? Hope your new love is from a wealthy family, unlike me. I’m sure he can take you to expensive theatre and buy popcorn for you every now and then; he can give you treats at McDonalds on a daily basis, buy ice-cream for you as and when you demand. Wish I was in a position to take care of all your whims and fancies. I apologize.

Did you give him all those nicknames by which you used to call me: My baby, my bacha, my janu, my shonu, my darling, my golu, etcetera, and etcetera?

Do warn your new love not to glance at any other girls passing by; let him behave as saintly as possible. He should receive the same treatment as I did. Now, I have known being possessive is your birthright and known that ‘possessiveness’ is a word solely reserved for you; don’t worry, I’ll never interfere in your matters as you’re not mine anymore, but for sure you can interfere with my life as much as you want, for I’m still slightly yours. I’ve learnt to let anger live and die within me without letting it outburst (thanks to the anger management book I’ve read recently), I can now swallow my anger for I’ve known the outcome of a decision one makes while one is angry is always devastating. However, don’t think that I want you back. No, no, I don’t.

A person can get used to anything. As they say, time heals everything. Only in the beginning it seems painful, but when a person starts drinking (just like me) it is not going to be painful for the rest of a person’s life. Wine keeps me rocking all of the time nowadays. I know, your memory won’t be erased entirely in such a short period of time, but the more I drink the more it helps. With more massive hangovers I’ll be able to abandon your thoughts from my mind

Hey Honey, how are you? How is your new love? Do you think I’m drunaaaaak?

So how are you ……? Who am I…?

BRETHREN, FRIENDS, COUNTRYMEN, AND FELLOW SUBJECTS NEVER EVER LOVE A BITCH!

Signing off,

Yours but not yours,

The King of the world

Poems

AIDS

July 17, 2012 Ramu Das 3 Comments

Well, hello everyone!
Now, I want to clarify that I don’t suffer from AIDS or any other diseases. The idea of
writing something about this topic came to my mind this morning when I came across
an article about AIDS on the newspaper. I read, every year a good number of people
die because of this disease. Only if they take a little precaution and care a little about
themselves can they avoid falling under the trap of such untimely death.
That’s how I started typing my thoughts and thus this poem came into existence.

AIDS Awareness (Photo credit: sassy mom)

Goodbye folks, I’m leaving
Never to see any of you again
C’mon! And claim my belonging
My senses shall not regain

The doctor concludes: I suffer from AIDS
A devilishly deadly disease it is
Oh, I blame myself for I had sex with one of my maids
My lust knew not of any contraceptives

Now, my end has come
For death is not mutable
And with fear I’m so numb
Death, I know, is inevitable.

Poems

SCREW ANGER

April 29, 2012 Ramu Das 6 Comments

An upsurge of emotion that makes me burn like fire

The foolishness, the fallacy of being egoist, uncontrollable ire

All sin I commit and still think that I’m always right

Nothing stops me, not any fright, not a thing on earth; and I never give up the fight

The color that accompanies it is always red

The devil takes hold of me, upsets me and often makes me very sad

Stupidity, absurdity, idiocy was never a part of me

But with anger, argumentative and stiff my opinions and stern my face, I see.

My intention was or is never to be rude

But oh, anger makes me a real brute.

From rationality, things change so fast and I move on to irrationality,

What I was and what it has made me- so blunt. Ah, such uncontrollable bestiality!

The undesired, unwanted retaliation, ignorance and deadly revenge

Gives me a tough time, all of a sudden my blood pressure increases and threatens my life to derange

What could have been better, never was

Friends dared never come by my side thus

Not a word of pleasantry came out of my mouth, peace was almost forgotten,

Now, with all despise and contempt, I’m living, almost dead. Wish I was never begotten!

SATIRE AND HUMOR, STORIES

Bloody mosquitoes

April 15, 2012 Ramu Das 5 Comments

Shit, I can’t be here any longer. Oh, the foul-smelling things!

They moved forward by leaps and bounds and straight from the gutter entered my modest abode, which is near the pond; it was in fact a paradise for them. Just like the CIA, they collected and coördinated intelligence and counterintelligence activities. When I was sitting on my chair, staring at the computer screen wearing my boxer shorts and a banian, I noticed a member of the mosquito clan trying her best to rest her gruesome body on my athletically built body, she made much a fuss and moved and danced around my head producing strange sounds which I never heard before, something like: frmmmmmm…. Frmmmmm.

I tried to move away to a different direction of my room without harming her, but wherever I went, she accompanied me just like a parasite and sung many a jungly songs again and again. With the keenest interest, she inspected my body, actually, the tastiest part of my body, and when she found out which that part was, with a lot of eagerness she revealed her evil intention of sucking my red thick blood, and slowly she started thrusting her wicked sharp-edged knife on my body and after awhile, the nasty thing was inside me, it felt like the doctor’s injection. Ah, what a pain it caused!

When one had accomplished the evil task, the others took their course of action, it was a never-ending phenomenon, and one by one they satisfied their appetite, and there I was rubbing the portion where they attacked me to lessen the pain, just in vain though.

Meanwhile a murderous rage got the better of me and I wanted to see them dying, I wanted to rip apart their fluttering wings and if their dead body could have been of any use to the ants, I wanted to offer the mosquitoes’ body to the ants absolutely free of cost, if it was of no use even to the ants, then I wanted to burn the mozzies on the fire and fulfill my desire of taking the revenge, but I was fed up of tiring my hands by clapping them together, and never finding anything in between when I unfolded my hands.

All my attempts proved a big flop; I changed my strategy and implemented some easy way to kill them, I bought a mosquito coil by paying Rs 20 from the market, I Lighted it during the night and dozed off hoping to see their end by morning, but alas! The smoldering coil had no effect on the bloody mosquitoes, and with their vicious demeanor, they woke me up while I was asleep in the middle of the night, they started torturing me once again with their knife, I found some of the mosquitoes completely relaxed and sitting on the coil instead of moving away from it. Right then, I vowed never to buy a Chinese product in my life!

I was going wild and I was furious at my condition, their bulging belly made them unable to fly and every time they tried to fly, they fell down as their wings didn’t have the capacity to pull their overweight body which otherwise is very thin and lean. I could have killed them one by one, but no, I felt quite helpless, I was feeling very weak to do anything apart from sleeping once again.

That’s how I came to this hospital, the smell of all the medicines is unbearable; my father admitted me here as I was suffering from fever and headache, and learnt from the doctors that I’m suffering from malaria, while some of the patients beside are suffering from AIDS, Tuberculosis, pneumonia, cancer, and the names can go on.