Breaking The Four Year Hiatus With My Blog

Its been quite a long journey pursuing my BTech Degree at VJTI, Mumbai with studies occupying most of my time. It could get quiet boring for someone like me who is so fussy at many things. The reason to have this post is not to describe my 4 year life on campus but to restart my hobby of writing here which began way back in school with essays, letters & drafts as part of English assignments. Reading is one thing which I have been disliking since childhood associating it with typical geeks sporting glasses immersed into a book. Reading almost half of Mark Twain's Tom Sawyer was sort of a Houdini Act for me, who hardly gets past two pages of a novel. Its not always the author at fault who cannot keep me interested but my lack of patience. Non-Fiction & Management books are better off for me than fantasies, even murder mysteries excite me but I m yet to embark on my journey to read books & keep up with it. My stint with Suketu Mehta's "Maximum City - Bombay Lost & Found" was very delightful in reigniting my interest in reading. My sister knowing my love-hate relationship with books introduced that book to me while I was for a month just when I had newly joined Kalpataru Power in Santacruz in July 2009 & my parents were having a vacation in Munnar, Kerala after almost 8 years. Unlilke my usual self, I could not stop myself from keeping the book down even after getting past more than 30 pages until it clocked 10 pm & I had to hit the sack for the day.

Experimenting With Piercings

Dating back to my summer holidays, just before the beginning of sixth semester of engineering at VJTI, I had the sudden rage of getting a piercing done; not the usual earrings commonly adorned by the rustics but a barbell in my eyebrow. Many would argue that getting pierced in the eyebrow is not a big deal abroad, but it was me, an Indian college student, born in a family where patriarchial dominance descended since ages. A follow up visit to the doctor with my great grandmother triggered the curiosity. Tried coaxing my parents on seeing the poster on the wall of the clinic. Not surprisingly, the request was quashed citing health risk to my eyes, hideous look, social acceptance & the prevailing conservativeness in the society.Come two weeks later, a repeat visit. This time, dad did not accompany us. Mothers generally tend to give into their boy's nagging.This was my chance & I took it. My insistence on getting it done was a success. Given my everyday-life eccentricity, mother perhaps thought that removable piercing seemed a better deal than agreeing for a permanent tattoo on my body. Thanks to Mrs. Bhave, the lady surgeon, I had a sterile stainless steel curved barbell inserted in my right eyebrow. Sanitizing my eyebrow area with methanol, proceeded by local anaesthesia to numb the region, a big needle pierced through the skin, oozing out streams of blood. With the help of the syringe I could feel the barbell being inserted from the threaded end. For few minutes it was a numbing experience with uneasiness felt with a foreign object jostling inside the narrow tunnel before being screwed to hang tight.

It was truly something that no one would have dared doing all this by my ancestors or my cousins, for it was indeed something going through an ordeal.