The date 8th October 2005 (Just cross checked with Wikipedia) was a date when the NWFP in Pakistan(our immediate friendly country) was shaken by an earthquake on a lazy Saturday morn. The question arises why am I talking about the aforesaid natural disaster today after a good 4 years.
One of my worst fears is Alzheimer, I am afraid at any point of time I may be its next victim thanks to the unhealthy lifestyle I follow, any ways before I deviate from the topic , let me tell the world what was I doing on the fateful morning. I want o remember this incident till eternity.
A FlashbackDate : Approx.One year prior to Aseem and group won the IIT dance fest.
Venue: Auditorium @ IIT Delhi
It all started when I was trying to click pictures of Aseem and his group (FLIRT) as they danced on Mujhse Shadi Karoge using towels as props (The music sucked big time, as my able friend Aseem would have said " ") Coming back, so there I was clicking pictures with my Sony Ericcson W800i, a cellphone with a 2 MP camera was a big thing then. I was very near the stage and as luck would have it I was right in front of the speakers, whose volumes were thundering and deafening as I took pictures. The dance went on for about good 20 mins. It ended at last , so did the duel (My ears Vs Big correction Mega Big woofers- Sub woofers incorporated.) So began the hearing problem, I could not hear properly , and a constant hissing noise would irritate me to the core.
SnapSo once I was back to Chandigarh I went to the Doc . In Sohana Multi specialty hospital (Keep up the good work guys , you people are doing good where else would a person get personal attention in Rs. 10 only ) Met Dr. Hundal for the first time young handsome dashing fellow with a very fit body. Having a vaccum pump inserted in you ear can be a very funny feeling, the Doc. pulled out a wax plug the root cause of all my hearing troubles, I could hear every thing sans the hissing sound, which was a relief.
They say history repeats itself and approximately after about an year the hissing was back, so it was time for a trip to Sohana once again, after several attempts the sloth(me the lazy bones) finally reached the hospital. Now the story begins:
I sat on one of the black metal chairs outside the doctor's room waiting for my turn. The hall was full, there were all sort of people- patients , attendants, ward boys, sweepers, babies.. you name it he was there. Right next to me sat a woman feeding he child and trying to put him to sleep by shaking her thighs as she sat cross legged on the chair... Multitasking ..hehehe. Now all the chairs were connected so when she would move all the chairs of the row would move ie. shake. I was tired I had not slept through the night guess this is what happens to you, when you fall in love with a woman who loves to gradually sleep while talking at night, on second thoughts I could have been chatting or watching porn.. I really don't remember. So there I was wearing an under-turban (I needed my ears to be uncovered for teh doctor's appointment) , sitting on an almost rocking chair thanks to Madam X. May be I dozed off while counting the chip on the floor tile, when I felt that the lady's shakings were getting more and more vigorous every second, with my chair almost rocking, I woke out of my temporary slumber just as I was about the utter "" What the F....? " at the lady, so much for being a through gentleman ,I saw I was the only one sitting in the huge hall, 3 thoughts came to my mind-
1. Where is everybody?
2.Where is the Lady?
3What happened?
The monotony of silence was broken by a some good Samaritan shouting " Sardarji Bhoochaal agaaya Bahar nu bhajj aao." They say there is a certain sense attached to every memory of we have in our life, it may be a smell, a sound, a touch, a sight or may be a taste. Strange as this may sound ever since I try to remember the day, the aforesaid statement just jumps out and brings a smile on my face. Now that is a memory.
On a serious note : May god Bless the departed souls who lost there lives in the quake.
Aseem Gill aka Crappy - I miss you buddy, really mean it. RIP.
Inder
