FAIRYTALE QUERY TRAIL...

In childhood fables, why is it always the physically smaller character who emerges the "hero"? - The mouse rescues the lion, the tortoise wins against the hare, the monkey fools the crocodile, the elf helps the woodcutter, and so on.

If childhood tales are told to inculcate positive values, why did Jack steal from the giant, and why did the fox give up so soon on the grapes?

If the wicked queen would climb Rapunzel's hair each time to get into the tall tower, how did Rapunzel get inside the tower in the first place?

If Cinderella was allowed to stay out till midnight in the 16th century, why was Princess Fiona only allowed to stay out till sunset in the 21st century?

In the tale of the princess and the frog, was the prince actually cursed, or is the frog a metaphor for all males?!

Scattered Pieces.....

A dream, a vision
A haze, a mist

A step forward, and two backward
A march into the unknown

A battle lost, a foe slain
A battle won, an enemy gained

A faint hope
In darkness i grope

Scattered bits of bones and dreams
I pick these up.....piece by piece....

A pair of Wings.....

Walking in circles, making concentric rings
People and places, and a myriad different things
Each relation comes with it's own set of strings
This time I want a pair of wings.

Under a starry sky, I sit alone by the ocean
The distant horizon is but a notion
I want to cross over, see what the other side brings
All I want is a pair of wings.

I want to wake up in the morning without a worry
I want to relish each moment, not live it in a hurry
I want to resonate with the lark that sings
This time I want a pair of wings.

OF LOVE STORIES AND HAPPY ENDINGS

I hate happily ever afters. Especially the mushy ones with rekindled romance, or love at first sight. I find them too superfluous. And they have a way of leaving you delusional. Your mind stretches the fantasy and you start looking forward to all the unrealistic elements. So the actual experience is somewhat disappointing.

I dislike movies with the typical Mills & Boons storyline. If your boyfriend dumps you with good reason, there's no way in hell he's gonna realize couple of years down the damn line that you were 'the one'. And if you're thinking that he's in some sort of denial, think again. He isn't, YOU ARE. Ditto if you're having an affair. No matter how hot the chemistry is or how desirable he claims you are, the smoothie will never call it quits with his fiance. He won't even contemplate that coz he's only looking for easy access to an alternate object. (That's you.) Don't dig for a deeper meaning coz he's alarmingly shallow. That's the reason there's an affair in the first place.

I'm critical about characters which portray a commitment phobia, or fear of intimacy. There is no phobia really, these people are just plain confused. But to say that bluntly doesn't sound appealing. So we construct some complex terms to lend some depth to their confusion, and add an element of intrigue. Even if we were to assume that a particular character actually suffers from the said phobias, I think that's all the more reason to steer clear of them instead of trying to read between their lines. Why would anyone want to pursue a dysfunctional relationship with a manic-depressive plagued by some inexplicable patho? Even a masochist would have serious trouble trying to derive pleasure here.

I'm equally skeptical about the whole knight in shining armour act. It's way too chauvinist. I think all women have the calibre to deal with their own issues. Besides, a spirited woman who can slay her dragons and fight her demons is far more attractive than the demure damsel in eternal distress. The pretty princess comes across as very needy.

And finally, I find the whole sighing and sulking bit, which fetches cute cards and love poems, a bit misplaced. By default, guys aren't programmed to be sentimental. So I suppose the only way to get them to write a poem for us would be by divine intervention. Or supreme motivation. In which case, pouting seems to be a better option.

To be candid, I think love is very much over-stated. Practically every woman on the planet wants her guy to be insanely crazy about her. Courtesy all the silly love stories that are made to look so adorable. It's phenomenal, in the sense that one man's imagination has become every woman's fantasy! We need to read more intelligent books. And we need to watch more action oriented and sci-fi movies. Infact, movies with crappy love themes should strictly have a warning that reads: ' CAUTION - Don't take this too seriously, or you might end up needing medications.'

Happily ever afters probably do occur, but definitely not in an exaggerated rosy way. In day-to-day life, routine sets in. And that translates into a mechanical way of doing things. There's nothing exciting about sipping martini for the 'n'th time with your spouse after 20 years of marriage. At that point, the thrill is probably in sneaking out with somebody else's spouse.

Sticking to your better/bitter half is more of a ritual. After a point, there are no more surprises or discoveries. So it's difficult to sustain the enthusiasm. You can't be in the honeymoon phase your entire married life. And you can't have an adrenaline rush after you've been married to a person for over 30 years. Pretty much the reason why you don't have sex 4 times a week at 65! At that age, if you're expecting your second honeymoon in an exotic locale with long walks and sweet talks, you're grossly over-looking rickety joints and bladder incontinence. Not to mention the lack of libido ofcourse.

Assuming that you do mange to stick it out together that long, you'll have something far more mellow. Honestly, I have no clue what that would feel like. And the funny thing is, I've never seen it in any of the movies either. Wonder if it's coz the movies don't last that long, or the stories don't?

WARD NO. 33

Theres something about working in a govt hospital. All the gory and crappy stuff appears so magnified, that in a strange way it makes us appreciate the trivial, simple details of life that we otherwise tend to overlook. We are hit with the sober fact that youth is so short-lived, life so fickle. A few extra ions in our blood, a couple of extra impulses in our heart, one ruptured vessel in our brain, and its pack up time. Then again, we are struck with the beautiful realization that the human body is, more than anything else, an amazing combination of science and art. And the human mind is truly the most fascinating thing known to man.

All these revelations do not occur when we enter the hospital. Neither do they occur when we leave. They just catch us off gaurd when we are doing the most mundane things. And then our mind simply runs back to the hospital, and we feel the full impact of something we witnessed back there.

We see shrivelled bodies and fragile structures, fighting gallantly or hanging on by a mere shread of hope. Some of them delirious, some comatose, some fairly stable. The spectrum is broad, and they vary anywhere between being aggressive to passive. Some hypochondriacs, and some incredibly narcissistic. They may come with paralysed limbs, or dysfunctional kidneys, an alcoholic liver, or a failing heart. We cut them open, stitch them up, nurture them, then send them back. Some leave eagerly, some grudgingly. Some dont want to leave at all.

But there are some who can not be allowed to leave. Family members dont know how to handle them, friends are scared of them, and society at large shuns them. The lay man calls them mad, the better educated ones call them psychotic. As medicos, we call them schizophrenics. Our world is too boring for them, and theirs is too much of a fantasy for us to believe. They have a surreal existance, and cant let anybody in. We, with all our medical expertise dont know how to let them out.

Cinema has often portrayed caricatures of psychiatric patients, so we have plenty of preconceived notions about them. Contrary to the general erroneous opinion, these people are not retarded. Neither do they go around yelling incessantly while tearing at their clothes. And please, they are not sick serial killers either, though I admit that they can sometimes get violent, and even homicidal. Still they harbour no malice. Their basic problem is an altered sense of perception. And their patho lies in the complete inability to recognize that problem.

What strikes me about them is that they are always so oblivious to their environment, so detached from everything. Even when they interact with you, they somehow seem aloof. Engrossed in their own world, they just go about doing what they want to do, thinking what they want to think, and believing that what they think is the ultimate truth. They will try to explain their obscure ideas to you. And if you happen to disagree, they will argue endlessly and persistently. Or they might just drop the topic thinking you are too thick to understand! I find that nothing less than endearing.

Despite their eccentric, and sometimes obnoxious behaviour, they can be very appealing. They have a knack to amuse you and engage you, which I think stems more from the disease than from their actual personality. Nonetheless, they do capture your interest. Their enigma perhaps lies in the nature of the disease itself, which is a bitter irony. Trapped and tricked by their own minds, they have to ultimately battle against themselves. And it is more or less a lost battle. But they do it in the most bold and inspiring way. As a mere on-looker, I have never felt more touched. Or more humbled.