Individualism - murdered

My mum wanted to visit me on my birthday while I wished to spend the day all by myself. She prevailed. I ended up spending the day in crowded shopping malls, visiting mum’s relatives and friends, and finally someone’s birthday party.

I did not spend any time for myself.

One early morning, my uncle came to my apartment unannounced and made my home his for weeks. He spared nothing. He slept on my bed, scribbled all over the newspaper before anyone could read it, used my toiletries, cell phone and anything and everything I possibly could think of. I asked him to spare the newspaper.

I am now his preposterous nephew.

I was in a meeting at office the other day and the man who sat next to me did not bring a pen or a book even though he knew they are required. He asked me for a paper and I provided him one. Next, he asked me for the pen I had. I told him that I do not share my pen with other people. He did not even seem to care, he plucked the pen from me and started to scribble vigorously.

The tip of my pen bled, leaving a thick blue smudge on the paper as it suffered in his monstrous hand.

Blurry to Blind/Bright - D day

I know it before hand if my day is going to be good. There are these cryptic signs that prop and tell me that I am going to have a great day. Today, the signs came back to wish me luck. I woke up to Toshila's Anbudan Suryan FM and she was at her best as ever. Come 8 AM and I moved over to the TV. Sun music was amazing. It belted out hit after hit and the VJs spoke as little as possible. I went to the saloon to have my head shaved. I realised later that it was a very good thing to do if the doctor was going to ask you to refrain from washing your head and face for a week. My last shower for a week to come! 12 PM the taxi arrived. Canal bank road, IIT Madras, Kottur Puram, Frost & Sullivan, Star Rocks, Raja Eye Care.

cash-counter-woman: Sir, we have had some problem with the billing. I think. I think we billed you twice.

Another round of Snellen's chart and other tests and I am in.

he-doc: Could you take off your glasses? I am going to clean your eyes.

He opened a pack and took out a new 'plastic' surgery gown and got me into it. Then came a cap. And socks! I would be better off to call them as polyethylene bags with elastic at the top. I was whisked into the operation theatre, made to lie down on a table and wrapped in a 'plastic' blanket. The table moved by itself until my head came under a set of three lamps which looked like miniature flood lights in a cricket ground.

she-doc: prasanna, I am going to put this sheet on your face so that only your right eye is open for the procedure.
me: (Are you my blood relative? How did you know to call me prasanna?)

The plastic sheet had mild glue that made sure my eye lashes were stuck behind the sheet.

she-doc: I am going to pour a liquid into your eye and it is going to be cold. I am going to wash your eyes.
she-doc: Can you see a green light at the top. Keep looking at it and it will be over in a minute.
she-doc: I am going to make a flap and so stay steady
me: (why is my bum aching? god-damn-it. I must have remembered to take that 5 rupee coin out of my purse.)
The blurry green became blurrier.
she-doc: I am going to pass laser now. So don't try to blink or move your eyes.
It sounded like a driller on a metal sheet.
me: (what if my phone rings now? Have I got it in vibration mode? It is sometimes good that your friends are not too concerned about you.)
she-doc: I am putting back the flap.
she-doc: Try to blink your eyes slowly. Yeah, that is right. Excellent. It has come out very well.
she-doc: Now we will do it on the left eye.

It was the same procedure. I only had different thoughts now.

me: (what if I voluntarily shake my head? Will I go blind on one eye? Then I can be the new otha kan sivarasan!)
me: (How am I going to pay for this when RPL has trumbled to 210? I am not making a loss in anything. No.)
she-doc: Very good.
me: (Hey, you. Why is it not excellent? Answer me now.)

I was walked out of the theatre and my gown, cap and socks were removed. I was given a box full of eye drops and a glass that was big even to MY face. It covered my entire forehead, eyes and nose. Everytime I wanted to breathe, I had to lift the glasses a little and let some air in to my crushed nostrils.

me: (Why is everything dark? And why are my eyes heavy?)

You-know-who listed out a set of do's and don't and fixed an appointment with the doctor at 11 the next day. During my long ride home my head wouldn't move and my chin was perpendicular to the ground for fear that my opened flaps would fall off if I looked down.

Show time

raja: For god's sake, why don't you put on some clothes?
kiran: why? I used to show it to a lot of people.

La Divine Intervention

jose,

I thought of something philosophical this morning.

If a miracle happens, it is called 'the divine intervention'. It can also be called 'la divine intervention', assuming you still remember a bit of your French. Now read it this way. 'La-di-vine intervention'. Ladi is lady meaning woman. Vine and wine have similar pronunciations and so let’s call it wine. And wine is an alcoholic drink. So doesn’t it mean that when a woman and an alcoholic drink intervene in your life, a miracle happens??

It is said that the most complex things have the simplest solutions and I think this is a great example for it. Live your life with wine in one hand and a woman in the other, and all your life is nothing but a miracle.

raja

Kalyana saapadu

While many of us know that prashanth has a bachelor's degree in engineering, what we do not know is that he has a master's in wedding crashing. During his college days, the last week of every month was a week of empty wallets and grand dreams about the impending big cheque that his dad sent at the beginning of the month. This was the time when the master set out exhibiting his expertise.

Here is an excerpt from prashanth on the do's and dont's of wedding crashing.

- ALWAYS wears your best clothes when you crash weddings.
- Know the bride's and the groom's names
- NEVER crashing the same wedding hall more than thrice a year.
- NEVER go in gangs. Split yourself into groups. If you have many friends, enter in intervals of 15 minutes.
- Confidence is the key. Smile at the lady at the reception and feel free to pick a few toffees from her table.
- NEVER acknowledge your friends at the wedding. They are a nobody to you there.
- DO NOT stare at people.
- Go to the dais and shake hands with the couple and but NEVER pose for photographs.
- STOP staring at the ladies; ESPECIALLY the bride.
- NEVER linger in the hall for a long time. pick up your toffees, sit in a mid row until you have munched all your toffees, go up to the groom and bride, shake hands and head straight to the dining place. Once the job is done, make a move.
- If all is well, ask the beautiful lady at the reception if you could take her place while she went to eat her dinner.
- NEVER feel frightened when caught and always be prepared for a sprint.

Survival lessons – The cheemu way

Back in Bombay, when we were doing our internships, money was scarce. We (cheemu, guji & myself) therefore were holed up in a pigeon hole that was no bigger than a closet. We also didn’t go for extravagant outings during weekends; mainly because we were lazy to venture out. So we stayed at home. I was so lazy to walk to restaurants to eat that I collected all telephone numbers of eateries around the place so I could call them and place orders for home delivery whenever I was hungry. Cheemu was a step further than I was; or anyone I can fathom. Come Friday night, he picked up his telephone and placed orders; one after another, meticulously, for the entire weekend (!) with the time he wanted his meals. That is something we can all try to emulate!

Full Meals - Starters

I have lived away from home for a long time now. I was at a boarding school for a substantial period of my schooling and then at a residential college during my undergrad days. During all those years I have had innumerable friends who grunted at anything and everything edible at the dining halls. To them, mom's recipes were always the best. Me too! My mum makes some of the best dishes I have ever tasted. But I don’t really remember making a fuss out of the food at the hostel. Food was important. I loved to eat the best that was available but I never really cribbed over bad food. Curd rice took care of me when nothing else was available. I was way better than some of my insatiable friends to whom nothing but a full-meals would satiate their appetite.

But life is never the same once you are out by yourself in the real world. It is cruel and dangerous. The bell in my ever-growing belly rang mercilessly at 7 A.M. and 7 P.M. everyday. But there never once was a table of steaming food at the thought of it. It is I who will have to set out in search of sources of food. This search opened up a new world – A world of restaurants, road side eateries, my own experiments at the kitchen and other means of survival.

I plan to post some of those experiences from time to time in honour of my fellow brothers for their valiant struggle against the ringing bell.

dude, where is my...

kiran: prazhandhae, where is my underwear? are you wearing it?

love bite

2 A.M., Thursday morning.

kiran: (jostling a snoring prashanth) Eda prazhandhae, ennika da (prashanth, wake up)
prashanth: Endha da (what is it?)
kiran: If one were to finish B.Sc., what age should she be?
prashanth: tyondy one
kiran: If she did an M.Sc with it?
prashanth: tyondy three

kiran let out a satisfied smile and went back to sleep while prashanth spent the rest of the night watching America's dummest criminals.

Call taxi

I had a chance to speak to a call taxi driver sometime back and this is what he had to say about the operating model of the call taxi company he worked for.

The driver owns the taxi and bears the cost of running it. He has a contract with the taxi company whereby he pays a flat Rs. 4500 a month for the services of the company.The company inturn directs drivers to customers who call for taxis through telephone. Requests for taxis to drivers and the availability of taxis are communicated through radio.

boxed out

11 A.M., another really really busy and nerve wrecking day at work.

Phone rings.

raja: yeah kiran
kiran: why is the iron box not working?

schezwan nights

monday night, dinner time:
kiran: lets order schezwan fried rice

tuesday night, dinner time:
kiran: lets order schezwan chicken

wednesday night, dinner time:
kiran: lets order schezwan noodles

thursday night, dinner time:
kiran: lets order schezwan beef steak

friday night, dinner time:
kiran: lets order schezwan shanghai noodles

saturday night, dinner time:
kiran: lets order schezwan garlic lamb

sunday night, dinner time:
kiran: lets order schezwan fish

Blurry to Blind/Bright - The Night Before

It is like writing your will on a death bed. Why must one pretend to be macho when one is about to die? I must confess; I am afraid; because, for the last few days, there has been a continual flash of dreams of all possible things that could go wrong with the operation. What if the power goes off in the middle of the surgery? I must remember to check The Hindu tomorrow to see if there is a maintenance power shutdown in Nungambakam. What if the doctor mistook right eye’s x-ray as the left eye’s x-ray and the left eye’s x-ray as the right eye’s x-ray as in Mr. Bean at the dentistry? I called up a doctor friend of mine to check the operating doctor’s credentials (a bit late, but late than never) only to find that her number has been terminated. I went to Sathyam to watch Kanna moochi yenada (kanna moochi??) to distract myself. (This could very well be my last movie. How I love movies! Are there Braille movies? I have never heard of them.) But then only the damned surgical animation kept playing on my head. When I think of my head; what if a bunch of hair from my forehead fell into my eyes? I must remember to tonsure it early in the morning tomorrow. A million thoughts. But beyond all that I only hope that I don’t faint on the operation table or run around the hospital road in the green apron with a group of doctors and nurses chasing me. Good luck, doctor.

Blurry to Blind/Bright - Animation

I managed to find a decent looking animation showing the procedures involved in a lasik surgery.

http://www.healthcentral.com/animation/408/42.html

Many-Worlds Interpretation

I came across an article in The Hindu last week about a scientist, Hugh Everett and his theory, which, many notable scientists of his time discarded as rubbish. The theory is now being called by many as 'Many-Worlds Interpretation' - the existence of millions and millions of parallel universes. I have often thought about it myself, though I always referred to it as The Fifth Dimension - The 3 spacial axises -x,y,z and time, t make 4 dimensions while the fifth being probability (its a misnomer but I stuck to it). It must have actually been 'the set of probable events that could occur from a scenario.' At a given place (x,y,z) and time (t), one could react in many different ways to a particular situation, leading to many parallel concurrent universes of events. And here I am, reading about something I have thought about, something that someone has postulated as a theory and many 'now' believe to be true. I therefore decided to find out and understand more about it. This was also an opportunity for me to tell myself that my physics degree was not a complete waste of time and effort. Time, because I spent a few years in the name of studying physics. Effort, because I 'tried' to understand my coursework, and the question 'did I really understand?' is irrelevant here. psi is always sigh for me; and I still think of a 'bra' when someone mentions 'a bra and a ket'.

I googled to read several related articles on the theory, understanding something in some of them and nothing in many of them, until I finally stumbled upon this link, which seemed to be the common-man's version the Many-World's Interpretation.

For the many of you who do not have the patience to read the entire 44 page (A4, Times New Roman, 13.5) synopsis, here is what I think as a simplified version of the simplified version.

'Everything' (universe) is in a wave form. It all started as 'one' grand wave that branched into several branches (possibilities) everytime there is an event. These branches never come back to intertwine with one another. The physical substances of the universe (me, you, men, women, dog, cat, etc., etc.) are called 'macrosystems' and are part of the wave. When more than one macrosystem interacts with other macrosystem(s), it causes an event, which irreversibly alters the state of all macrosystems (me, you, men, women, dog, cat, etc., etc.) involved in the interaction. Upon this interaction, the 'wave' branches into several sub-branches based on the state (reaction to the event) of all involved macrosystems. At this juncture the macrosystems (me, you, men, women, dog, cat, etc., etc.) become copies of themselves and join each branch. They also become unaware of the other copies of themselves in the other branches.

The article also talks about the concept of 'many-minds' - 'an infinity of separate minds associated with each single brain 'state'. When an 'event' occurs, a single physical brain state with its infinite separate minds are 'differentiated' by the event. It also states that the 'quantum noise' of these interactions (events) are so low to affect the free will of individuals.

Some questions:

Is there a possibility of two worlds merging together as one in some distant future?

For such a thing to happen, all the constituents of the two worlds must coincide with their counterparts simultaneously, and there are millions and millions of constituents that form a world and therefore it is virtually impossible for such a thing to happen.

Where do the other world's exist?

In space and time, the other worlds are in the same place as where our world is. However, they differ in the fifth dimension, the dimension that we are unable to experience.

Why am I in this world and not another?

I would like to quote the same analogy used by Michael Price, the author of the article.

Fred has his brain divided into two and transplanted into two different cloned bodies. Let us further suppose that each half-brain regenerates to full functionality (Split brain experiments were performed on epileptic patients. Complete hemispherical separation was discontinued when testing of the patients revealed the presence of two distinct consciousnesses in the same skull. So this analogy is only partly imaginary.) and call the resultant individuals Fred-Left and Fred-Right. Fred-Left can ask, why did I end up as Fred-Left? Similarly Fred-Right can ask, why did I end up as Fred-Right? The only answer possible is that there was no reason. From Fred's point of view it is a subjectively random choice which individual "Fred" ends up as.

To the surgeon the whole process is deterministic. To both the Freds it seems random.

Blurry to Blind/Bright - preliminary examination

I checked in at the hospital at 11 AM for my appointment at 11 30. There must have been a hundred patients and half of them were looking skyward with eyes closed and cotton in hand. There was a tv hanging from the ceiling and a doctor was speaking from it. As I craned myself to understand what he was saying, the doctor disappeared and a magnified view of an eye emerged. We were being shown a taped surgery. The eye was wide open, and then, from nowhere, came something like a scalpel and jabbed at the black of the eye. That was enough. My body went limp while every hair on it stood erect. I am not watching it anymore and please tell me that they are not going to do the same thing to my eyes. And why does the censor board cut scenes with smooth skinned babes but pass such morbid videos? I tried to concentrate on the pleasant things life had to offer. I noticed that most female opthamologists (eye doctors) were good looking but I could no longer appreciate them after the video. I closed my eyes, looked skyward trying to sublime into the motley group when someone called out my name.

The nurse tried to strike a conversation in English as she prepared to check my eye 'power' with the Snellen's chart (Thats a chart with a huge 'A' on top and a random set of alphabets lined up in a number of rows. The letters became smaller and smaller as you went down. If you could read the second last row without doubt, your eye sight is good enough). I replied back in Thamizh. A ploy I use to get special treatment whenever I am speak to someone in Chennai. It worked yet again!

No change in power. Next were the compatibility tests for the surgery. I was passed on from one nurse to another and I couldn't stop but look at in awe at the efficiency of the entire process. After every test, the nurse smiled at me and asked me to wait in the hall adjoining the examining room. I was to be called by someone else in 5 minutes. And it was 5 minutes every single time. The new nurse came in calling for me.

One test I particularly liked was a scan. I was to put my head into a machine that looked like a 1940 still camera and cover myself with a black cloth. From the other end emerged something like an electric blue lightsaber from Star Wars and that was it! A colour printout popped out of the printer with pictures disecting my eyes in all possible angles. It showed my cornea, the retina, all the nerve bundles and a lot more I did not understand. My cornea was thick enough for the surgery.

The nurse for the tear test spoke a lot. She would'nt stop speaking. She handed me a pamphlet that explained the surgery. I pulled out 6 pamplets that the other nurses had given to me earlier in the day and showed it to her. she pursed her lips, let out a wry smile and continued with her lecture. She announced that she was to undertake the pressure test as well. A ball like thing from a machine was to 'gently' press my eyeballs to find out my eye pressure. I better be nice to her. I asked her 'her name'. She had the same name as "You-know-who". Mute. It is better to undergo the pressure test quietly. The pressure was within limits. Nurse 7 continued: 'Now I am going to show you an animation picture'. Me: 'Do you have Tom & Jerry?' She was in splits, laughing so loud that she could be heard at the other end of the hallway. The animation picture was to be a mockup of the surgery.

It was only after four hours I was marked fit for the operation. I had one more Snellen's chart to read before I could go home. The local anaesthetic used for the tests continued to work and I could not even figure out the largest 'A'. But then I had memorised the entire list during my checkup earlier in the day and I could recall every one of them with my eyes closed. The nurse found that out as I was reading with my eyes closed. Nurse 9: 'That's okay. It's just the anaesthetic that is working up. It happens all the time. You are good to go. I will provide you with Shobana's cell phone number and introduce you to her. She will clarify any remaining doubts you have regarding the surgery'. Shobana :D (yamunai aatrilae eerakkaatrilae kannanoadudhaan aada). Nurse 10: 'Yes, how may I help you?' She was the Shobana from Manichithira Thaazhu. Me: Nuh, nothing, I can't think of anything right now. I will call you if something props up.'

Having got my appointment for the operation at 1:30 PM on the 7th, December, I rode back home dizzy eyed.

Blurry to Blind/Bright - spectacle days

I have had vision problems right from a very early age. For a long time I wondered if it was the school bus accident that blunted my eyesight. I later forgot about the whole incident; but that did not improve my condition.

There are several problems associated with wearing spectacles early on when you are kid. First, unless you are popular or any other kid in the class wore thicker glass than you did, you are ridiculed by all sort of characters; sometimes some teachers as well. I was popular and there were a couple of kids who had as much as 4 times my 'power'; so I was normal. I could also punch anyone into unconsciousness. (I did that once and everyone believed I could do that many times over) I missed my first weekend outing without parental guidance, and Jurassic Park with it (I finally saw the movie a year ago) because I broke my glasses the first day I entered hostel. My dad drove 8 hours to get them repaired for me. Swimming was difficult; so were any contact sports (Anyone aware of any non-human-contact sports other than cricket being played in a field?) and I spent 2 hours everyday playing. It was always difficult to distinguish an 'a' from an 'e' on the black board and every word in high school invariably had an 'a' or an 'e'. I cursed the teachers for their bad handwritings and practised mine hard on four line notebooks to make sure that no blurry visioned student cursed me if I happen to become a teacher myself someday in the future.

My physical education director suggested contact lenses. He wanted his team to win at any cost. The cost was Rs 2000/-. Dad's money. I did not regret it; afterall, all I had to do was slip in a lens that was as thin as a peel of an onion and I could go glass-less. No more spectacle breakage in crowded buses, snazzy lay-ups or fist-fights! But that did not solve all the problems. I still woke up every morning to find everything dizzy around me and missed overnight parties because I will have to give my lenses and eyes some rest. The worst was to travel overnight in buses. I wore spectacles while I travelled but did not sleep with them on. But then there was always a thiruttu VCD being played in the TV after I prepare to sleep and there invariably was a raunchy number or a scene where the villain tries to rape the heroine and I can not deny myself of seeing it. I don't want to see ghosts on the screen and so I scamper for my spectacles before the scene ends only to find the pretty female sitting opposite to me staring at me with disgust. (always a pretty female. why? why? and why disgust?) But who cares? I will not miss it for the girl I will never meet again.

So there you see, contact lenses are also not a solution for my problems. The Renu Multiplus has already eaten away a lot of my savings. That was when someone told me about the laser treatment. Voila! After speculating the pros and cons of my either going blind or having a 6/6 eyesight, I am deciding to go for it. And now that I am attempting my 5th blog and I need episodes to fill its pages to give it 'respectable' appearance, I have decided to chronicle the entire process into something of the likes of a mega serial. So expect more...

Children's day

It is children's day today. This is the first time I take note of a children's day in a long long time. I can only think of two reasons for that. 1. The monotony of my new structured life is calling for a break and I can not wish for anything more than my summer vacations when back at school. 2. It is time to bear children.

While I let my thinking mind contemplate which one of these two is the cause, I meander back 15 years to revisit yet another of my children's days.

White shirt, white banian, white pants, white belt, white handkerchief, white socks, white shoes, black underwear and jet black spiky hair. While I now need a set wet styling gel or a visit to Green Trends to spike my hair, then, it was my regular hair-do. Perched atop a table, leaning against the window, I absentmindedly waited for the rain to stop as I stared at the tea-master's astute tea making at the other end of the road (rakkamma kaiya thattu blared from a loud speaker in the background). Those were the day's when breakfast meant a glass of milk, 4 dosais, a banana and a handful of toffees. As the thundering rain reduced to trickling droplets, the sun rose up brightly and it was time for school - time for my mum's suprabaadham. 'Did you do finish the maths homework? Look at your crayon box. It is scattered all across the floor. You should be a role model to your sister and here you are. Try not to dirty your clothes atleast today. Where is your social science monthly test paper?’ The theme remained the same, only the lyrics changed everyday. She dragged me away from the table, put my shoulder bag on and pinned a tri-colour onto my shirt pocket - it was children's day.

wateri thoughts

Last night my roommates wanted me to drink with them. Well, drinking is good. It makes me happy and I always aspire to be happy. There was one problem though. It was raining hard and the roads were slushy. That is bad news as I hate to touch water even on a sweltering day. I am hydrophobic. It is not that I detest diving into a swimming pool but I loathe the sensation of the first drop of water touching my skin. It is why I leave toilet seats up. My roommate showers, speckles the seat with ice cold water and leaves for office. me; the first thing I do every morning is pick up my newspaper and run to the pot. god, how do I explain that feeling - the joy of the bull climbing another 300 points intertwined with the pain of cold water piercing my bottom is inexplicable.

Moving back from my abhorrence to contact with water on the outside to my water for the inside plan; I convinced one of my roommates to do the buying for all of us. I felt bad for him to ride up in the rain, push past dirty men, squeeze in to the counter, harangue with the salesman that beer prices are not RPL shares to change 20% every week, to finally get hold of bottles that are 30 degrees warm.

That is when a fairy appeared.
Isabel: 'I am an angel from heaven. I am looking for directions. The roads here don’t match the blue prints we have up there.'
me: 'yeah, lot of illegal constructions or may be you bought your map when the previous government was in place. We here change street names to city names everytime there is a government change. Anyway, where do you want to go?'
Isabel: 'I would like to meet a doctor to get my boobies bigger. That’s the fashion again back up there now.'
me: 'hmm.. I never had to make any-thing of mine bigger, so I really do not know who you should go to. But why don’t you call just dial. They may be able to help.'
Isabel: 'Thanks very much. I am indebted for your help. I would like to do something for you. Do you wish to ask something? I am a fairy and I can do magical things.'

I have re-rehearsed this scene several times in my dreams.
Starfish: 'Make a wish'
myself: 'I wish for three wishes.'
Starfish swore that I was the devil and smacked me so hard with her wand that a horn popped out of my head.

I didn’t want to get smacked another time. So I told Isabel a more practical problem. She listened intently and said 'I am impressed that you have thought not just for yourself but for millions of other people. I shall be able to suggest an idea but it is left up to you to execute it. Why don’t you start a beer distribution company? Just like these pizza delivery guys. All you will need is a back office operator answering calls sitting atop of a giant freezer, a couple of guys or girls and second-hand motorcycles. Doing some rough math, I can see you will pocket close to 50K a month initially and it isn’t a bad start. You can always expand to other cities or diversify to other services. And when you are dead, you will get an automatic entry to heaven as you would be known as the great man who quenched the thirst of millions.'
me: 'That looks like a good idea. I shall give it a thought. Thanks for the advice.'
Isabel:' you are welcome. I better get going. Your warm beer has arrived.'
me: 'okay. And...'
Isabel: ' And what?'
me: 'Will you come around here just before you go back home? I have never seen an implant before. ;)'

jog-lesson

I am not a long distance runner. Running is comfortable to me only for the first 75 metres. However, sometime back I took to running a little longer than 75 metres; thanks to the many beers that clung to my waist. I had a friend who ran with me and we ran on the road lining the Besant Nagar beach. We ran close to 2.5 kms everyday. I must say that this has been one of my most fruitful experiments so far. For one, getting up as early as 5 30 AM in the morning was an extremely difficult task to me. I fail here half the times. Once I cross the first barrier and reach the sea, we time ourselves and begin to run. Somewhere when I reach the 1 km mark my legs would start to give away and there would invariably be temptations to give up. I must say I succeed here quite regularly. From here on my thoughts wander into several subjects and the temptation to give up increases by the metre. Where I end my day's run depends entirely on the fragility of my mind on that day. However, as days progressed I learnt that I had greater probability of completing my run if I just said to myself to hang on there for a little longer. One more step. One more corner. Here, I understood that once I do this, in a short distance from then, my legs are okay and I could run like the way I ran my first 1 km. I realised that these are moments of pain and despair when your mind asks you to give up and take the shorter route. But If I just hung on to running in those periods, I could overcome myself and finish the distance. I realise I could do the same in other circumstances as well. Just hang on and grit your teeth until things become alright.