Watchmen: The movies

Not so good. The book is like a tapestry. There are so many individual threads that make up the story of the watchmen. The thread with the sailor. The thread with the boy reading the sailor comic. The thread with the psychologist. The thread with the original Nite Owl. All of them make the Watchmen comic. The book is more than the sum of its parts, yet what you remember of the book are its parts, which hold your attention long enough, and have you panting for more even after you have turned the last page and put the book back onto the shelf. The movie is bland. It moves forward linearly, which is asinine at least for an adaptation of the watchmen. Overall a 2 out of 5.

Medicine men

Wifey is sick today. She decided to eat healthy today which meant it was all fruit. Now I have a roll of fat around my midriff to take care of me in these situations. She doesn’t. Result, gastroenteritis and much vomiting. Which meant that around eleven I had to go to the nearest hospital with a twenty four hour dispensary for some anti-vomittingy druggy thingy.

This hospital I went to isn’t a government one. It’s called Neelu Angels “Come in and we’ll skin you” Hospital or something like that. Which means that the actual number of resident doctors are around two, most of the actual doctors are visiting consultants and at eleven the only people who are all wearing white coats are the compounders. The dispensary (where the compounders) usually are was staffed by a security guy wearing a white coat and attempting to look like a compounder. So I am like:

“Can I have some medicine which can prevent vomiting”.

“I can’t give you anything. Please talk to the casualty ward”. Which is staffed by a woman who is on the phone and a guy eating a mango bar.

So I go.

“Can I have some medicine to prevent vomiting”

The guy with the mango bar goes:

“Who is it for”

“My wife, she is sick and…”

“Sorry. We can’t recommend medicine till you admit your wife here”

“Really. So I guess if I wanted some over the counter medicine like say Eno here I’d still need to get admitted?”

There was a brief pause and then the mango bar guy respectfully says:

“Sirji. Try ondem.”

Don’t mess with my logic. I have been watching House.

My soul is still mine

It feels good to write this. I am not a corporate whore. I cannot be one.  For a time it did not appear so. For the last four months I have had a difficult time at work. There was tons of it, but that was and remains a non-issue. The work culture was pathetic (even for an Indian company), but that again was not too bad. But there were/and remain a couple of people who are insecure, who could not manage a brown paper bag, and who were made my mentors. I don’t blame these people. Their insecurities are their own, they have their own constraints. Its when they take it out on me that it becomes a problem. One specific person had been targeting me for the last two months. Today I stood up to him. I did not care about my job, my standing. What he did was not necessary, and was not professional. I tried to raise those issues, but then I decided to take a stand. It felt good. It is a wonderful feeling indeed when you realize you can still surprise yourself