the girl in the ward.

I need a routine.

No seriously, I NEED A ROUTINE.

The day before yesterday, i was so proud to have attended all classes so i talked about how happy and satisfied i was about it. It felt like an achievement.

But it backfired.

Cause yesterday i bunked. Every single class.

It’s almost like i was tryna reward myself for the amazing attendance, by bunking the next day.

Argh, slap me. Please. Anyone.

But at least i managed to go for jamming with the guys. And i finally was able to catch the rhythm of this certain song i was initially struggling with. Brushed up my piano playing a lil bit. So at least i could tell myself it was a productive day.

Self-consolation rocks. =)

Anyway i felt a tad guilty about yesterday so i forced and dragged myself to all the classes today. And here i am, again, bragging about it.

Mannnn i don’t even know why i’m talking about this. Like, who cares? Lol.

(moving on!)

I was at postings at C.G. Hospital today. Same old routine – went to Ward 205, chose a patient, took history of the patient. Most of the time, i’d just stand aside and let my Indian friends do all the talking and listening, and then i’d copy whatever they’ve written in their book, cause obviously i couldn’t understand a single thing. Everyone speaks Kannada. Occasionally i would just flip through the patient’s records or report lying on the distal end (medical word! Lol.) of the bed, as my own reference, and try to understand what’s goin on with the patient and stuff.

Anyway, today, while my unit members were busy doing their thing, i was standing at this corner from where i could see a tiny little Indian girl, 7 years old i think, about 2 feet away from me, staring at me with so much wonder and curiosity. She was wearing a cute red top with a knee-length skirt with frills which looked like they were donated to her, her hair was tied up in 2 tiny piggytails with a pink hairband on one side and an orange hairband on the other side, and she had the most prominent double eyelids ever, above a pair of big bright talking eyes. I couldn’t decide if she was the sister or the daughter of the patient, cause the patient (an Indian guy) was 24 years old, which i think is too young an age to be a father of an eight-year-old, so she’s prolly his little sister. But then at the same time, with the moustache and ancient looking hairstyle and facial features, he somewhat looked old enough to be her father.

While i was deeply engrossed in trying to figure out their relationship (i later found out that she was his niece), that little girl came closer to me, looked at me with her innocent pair of eyes. For those who have known me for years, you’d know how i never liked kids. There’s just something about kids that makes me feel awkward and uncomfortable. I swear if you put a kid right beside me now, i wouldn’t know what to do with him/her. I’d just leave that kid alone and do my own thing. I think that kid would prolly get bored of me too and run away. And sometimes when i do try to talk or play with kids, especially babies, they’d all of a sudden burst out crying, like i’m a disgusting green monster trying to eat them.

However, this little Indian girl somehow gave me a really different vibe. A pleasant one. My eyes met hers. I was really bored so i decided to talk to this sweet little thing.

I bowed down a little.

“hesaru enu?” i said gently. (it means “what’s your name”)

I was expecting a blurry stare from her, cause people NEVER understood my kannada. I haven’t acquired the Indian intonation yet. But surprisingly she answered!

With the softest and sweetest voice i had ever heard, she said something which sounded like “poor-va-taa” or “paam-vee-ta” or “pamelo” or “pumpkin” or SOMETHING. I can’t remember. I was just really glad that she understood my “hesaru enu”.

So i went on to the next question. “vayassu eshtu?” (what’s your age) and then i flashed a tiny smile at her cause i thought she deserved it for understanding my kannada.

She replied, “gothilla.”

It means “i don’t know.”

Seriously?

Poor girl. She doesn’t know how old she is. I bet she has never celebrated a single birthday ever.

Then she smiled.

I can’t believe i’m saying this but, yea. My heart melted.

That smile was really something.

From that moment, we became friends. I asked her if she had eaten (“oota aita?”) and then she said yes (“aitu”) and then she asked me the same question and i answered yes too. (Mannnnn, i could finally converse in kannada! )

We didn’t talk to each other the whole time at the ward though. Occasionally she would try to be cheeky with me by showing me some small purple torch she kept in her pocket and then hiding it again. Most of the time, she’d just stare at me and smile shyly, then run away, then reappearing few minutes after.

Lol. What was i doing man. Everyone else was busy taking down patients’ history and being all serious with work, yet i was completely in a different state of mind, playing peekaboo with a little girl in the ward?

It really amazes me that i felt so foreign and distant with every single person in that ward, except for that little girl. She was the warmest person in that room whom i could actually connect with.

Oh no, india’s changing me.

Anyway, later on, my professor turned up and we stopped doing what we were doing and he started discussing a case with us. I usually stand at the back, just to keep a low profile so that the prof wouldn’t ask me any question and snap me back to reality from dreamland.

As the discussion went on and on, i started feeling bored and restless.

Suddenly i felt a little nudge on my left waist. Then i realised it was that little girl who had poked me. I turned and looked at her and there she was, walking beside her mother who made her look so small and tiny. She waved at me.

"Is she leaving?" i thought.

"of course she is, you idiot."

Gosh, i can’t believe i was feeling sad about her leaving.

Dear Poomveeta/Paalsava/Pamelo/Pumpkin,

Though i barely know you (i can’t even remember your name, all i could remember were your sparkly eyes and innocent smile.), i just wanna let you know that, on this very day, though you might not have realised it, you’ve effortlessly changed a small part of me. The purity and sincerity exuded through your smile has made a difference in me. It may be small and unimportant, but i know it may potentially turn into something significant in the future.

So thank you.

yes. i'm still Ling Jun Mei.

just to let you know that....

I ATTENDED ALL CLASSES TODAY!
okay fine. Not a big deal.

But it is a damn big deal for me! considering the fact that i’ve never once attended every single class in a day since the start of 2^nd year, which might be due to the following reasons:

Reason #1 :

I wasn’t mentally, physically and emotionally conditioned to attend all classes yet.

Reason #2 :

Things always came up (or you could say i made them to). Toilet breaks (which gives me a excuse reason to come back to the hostel and SOMEHOW bunk that particular class), stomach discomforts (more like hunger pangs actually, so that i can come back and munch on something and feel good), fatigue (more like sleepiness, but doesn’t matter cause both equally call for a cup of coffee).

Reason #3 :

i had to (and still have to) do stuffs for an upcoming band performance. Find a few songs, discussion with Sarah, Nazrin and Peka. Practice, practice and practice. Any ordinary medical student (only those studying in INDIA, i mean) would never, i repeat, NEVER have time for all these. So, of course, i have to bunk a few classes to be able to do these. It’s called DEDICATION. Hehe. So i suppose this reason passes as a good solid one.

Reason #4 :

My first few weeks of 2^nd year were occupied with my room’s makeover. Not exactly a makeover but Yasmin and i were just tryna make our room cosier and more functional. So we spent 2 good weeks hunting for a fridge, an induction cooker and pots (so that we could start cooking), bigger book shelves (to replace the previous ones which were smaller, cause our nerdiness was going to be upgraded in 2^nd year), and all the miscellaneous home stuffs. And mind you, all these shopping is freakin tiring alright! It’s such a chore to go out shopping in davangere. You’ve gotta put up with the bumpy and nauseating auto rides (it’s the cute yellow Indian taxis we call “autos”), air pollution, sound pollution (people here honk at everything, including a cow), miscommunication which leads to frustrations due to language barrier, dirt and dust everywhere including inside the shops, and if you’re unlucky you might step on GOLDs on the streets. Yea stuffs like that. Heck, i even wore an outfit that made me look like i was going for a jungle-trekking – sweatpants, t-shirt, hair tied in a bun, and a dirtygreen-coloured cap. BUT ANYWAY I THINK I’M A LITTLE OFF TOPIC SO MY POINT IS, all these crazy shopping was taking up too much time and energy, so i sort of bunked a few (quite many, actually) classes.

Reason #5 :

I find certain classes too boring and depressing. Attending these classes is suicidal so i don’t wanna kill myself cause i love myself.

Reason #6 :

There's this guy in class whom i've qualified as an eye candy but doesn't go to class often (!) so yea there's no more purpose for me to go to class anymore.

There you go. 6 solid reasons why i’ve been bunking classes and why i think i’ve accomplished so much for attending all classes from 8am till 4.30pm today.

I AM SUPERWOMAN. (you’re absolutely right, Alicia Keys.)

(okay i cheated. i didn’t go for 8am class. Shhh. But it’s only one class. One class!)

so i guess that makes me DUPERWOMAN instead?

Since “duper” always comes after “super” so i’m assuming “duper” is less superior.

OKAY ANYWAYS,

i just heated up some beef steak i brought back from bangalore 2 days ago. stank up the whole damn room but it doesn't really matter cause it tastes damn good. Too good. So if you'd excuse me, i'd like to sign off and enjoy my awesome beef steak. toodles!

bus rides.

I love long bus rides. Coupled with my ipod. There’s just something about travelling in a bus that makes me feel all good, warm and fuzzy, leaving a sweet aftertaste in me at the end of the journey.

Perhaps it makes me feel like i’m in a capsule, or a teleporting machine, frozen and trapped within this serene period of time between 2 places. And during this stagnant yet smooth period of time, i start seeing things differently. I find new appreciation for things i never before, bothered paying attention to.

Like the green green grass with greeniness so green it calms your soul and makes your heart smile.

Like the big trees you see at regular intervals so regular and rhythmical they make you dance mentally to this pleasant new beat.

Like the million stars at night somehow appearing brighter and prettier all of a sudden they almost make you convinced that they’re talking to you.

Or like the nice cool breeze sweeping across your face, whispering beside your ears, washing away all remnants of your worries and regrets in life.

Of course, window seat is a must.

Only during long bus rides can i enjoy the songs in my ipod to the max. The tunes, melodies, rhythms, and lyrics become crystal clear to me, making me feel like i’m listening to these songs for the very first time. These songs play a very important role as well. They manoeuvre my moods and steer my feelings, which altogether affects my thoughts.

Elliot Smith gives me a confusing yet calming sense of mysteriousness towards life,
Led Zeppelin penetrates me deeply with lyrics and melodies so raw and original i almost feel like he’s still alive somewhere inside of me,
Corinne Bailey Rae’s voice is just so sweet and soulful it sways my mind and soul from left to right, right to left like a cradle, assuring me that everything will turn out fine,
Staind gives me the goosebumps with his voice so deep and manly, yet with a slight sentiment and sensitivity exuded in his words,
Puddle of Mudd’s “Blurry (acoustic)” tells me that i don’t ever need ecstasy to feel good. The perfect blend of acoustic guitars, conga beats and the vocalist’s sexy lazy voice is able to make me replay it ten times, and discover a new perspective after each time.

All these thoughts and feelings may mean nothing but mere imagination. But to me, they’re most certainly mentally and emotionally enhancing, forming a big part of my lifelong process of learning how to feel life, how to appreciate life, how to understand life.

That’s why I love long bus rides. :)

"hand of hope"

came across this magical picture today. try to feel it touching the very core of your heart.



A picture began circulating in November. It should be "The Picture of the Year," or perhaps, "Picture of the Decade." It won't be. In fact, unless you obtained a copy of the U.S. paper which published it, you probably would never have seen it.

The picture is that of a 21-week-old unborn baby named Samuel Alexander Armas, who is being operated on by surgeon named Joseph Bruner. The baby was diagnosed with spina bifida and would not survive if removed from his mother's womb. Little Samuel's mother, Julie Armas, is an obstetrics nurse in Atlanta. She knew of Dr. Bruner's remarkable surgical procedure. Practicing at Vanderbilt University Medical Center in Nashville, he performs these special operations while the baby is still in the womb.

During the procedure, the doctor removes the uterus via C-section and makes a small incision to operate on the baby. As Dr. Bruner completed the surgery on Samuel, the little guy reached his tiny, but fully developed hand through the incision and firmly grasped the surgeon's finger. Dr.Bruner was reported as saying that when his finger was grasped, it was the most emotional moment of his life, and that for an instant during the procedure he was just frozen, totally immobile.

The photograph captures this amazing event with perfect clarity. The editors titled the picture, "Hand of Hope." The text explaining the picture begins, "The tiny hand of 21-week-old fetus Samuel Alexander Armas emerges from the mother's uterus to grasp the finger of Dr. Joseph Bruner as if thanking the doctor for the gift of life.

Little Samuel's mother said they "wept for days" when they saw the picture. She said, "The photo reminds us pregnancy isn't about disability or an illness, it's about a little person". Samuel was born in perfect health, the operation 100 percent successful.

Now see the actual picture, and it is awesome...incredible....and hey, pass it on! The world needs to see this one! -taken from facebook-

this picture totally made my day. =)

just a lil flashback.

It’s my second year in medical school and so far, things have been quite alright. First year was pretty extreme, frankly, not just physically, but also mentally and emotionally.

Coming to India the first time and then having to tell myself “okay this is it, i’m gonna live here in the next 5 years” was pretty much like jumping into a huge, deep, borderless pool of mud from 10 feet above. You either try your very best to dig out all the energy and breaths you have to swim and swim and swim, in hope of finding a certain reliable object to which you can cling on and perhaps be saved from drowning. OR you just let loose, relax and let your body float on the muddy water, convincing yourself that it’s clean crystal clear water you’re floating on. OR you just give up, and drown.

well, or course, the consequences to all 3 actions differ quite distinctly.

If you tell yourself to relax, your body automatically and reflexly ascends and stays afloat. That way, you’ll totally stay out of trouble hidden in the mysterious mud water. The best part is, you could just stare into the wide blue sky, totally ignoring the fact that you’re floating on mud, and convincing yourself that it’s not too bad. And that you don’t mind floating forever. This is definitely the safest option, but the downside is, you’ll never get to see the many wonders and excitement hidden under the mysterious muddy water.

If you keep swimming and fighting in pursue of what you believe to be some sort of a shore you can land on, or perhaps a boat, you would be using up alot of strength and will power, which may mount up to the highest limit beyond which you may just breakdown and then lose the battle. However, if you know your limits well, and are good at reserving and balancing up your energy and will power according to the ever-changing circumstances, you’ll be surprised by how the fighting journey could reward you in many ways normally not visible to an ignorant person. Definitely along the way, you’ll swallow disgusting muddy water or encounter a crocodile. But at the end of the day, whether you’ve landed on a shore or not, or whether you’ve found a boat or not, you know that you’ve gone through the battle, be it a winning or a losing one. You swallowed mud water, you fought a crocodile, you develop a great amount of muscles and strength and will power, and most importantly, you know that you had held on to the optimism and positivity in you to strive for the better. And to me, that’s priceless.

Lastly, if you just give up. YOU DROWN. YOU DIE. As simple as that.

well i personally have been opting and re-opting for the first and second options alternately, in a pendulum-like manner. It has never been consistent. Same goes to the emotions as well. And no, i’m not talking about the PMS moodswings. It’s more like the emotional roller coaster ride i experienced in the past one year.

contrary to what i had expected at the start of first year, that first year as a medical student would be as boring as my Anatomy professors, but it was surprisingly, rather eventful for me. I had numerous diarrhoeas, both mild and severe ones, chicken pox (which made me miss my first internal exams), allergic reaction to some fish served in the hostel (my first allergic reaction i never knew of in my whole 20 years of life, which turned me beet-root red and i had to go to the hospital to get a jab), BUT OF COURSE THESE AREN’T THE THINGS I’D WANNA SEE HAPPENING TO ME AGAIN. On a brighter note, there were concerts, band practices, from which i got to know a bunch of admirable, constantly motivated, musically talented people. Adjusting and fitting in the Indian community was difficult. Broke certain rules, got busted by authorities, involved in a police case. (notice how my brief my sentences are getting? Lol.) yeaa THAT’S ENOUGH INFORMATION ALREADY.

my point is, it was definitely an interesting year, i have to say. Satisfactory roller coaster ride. Definitely worth paying the ticket for.

i don’t know what comes next. This time, i think i’m gonna try the space shot. =)

hello again.

it’s been 2 long years and i’m now back to blogging. I don’t know exactly why i’m doing this again cause previously i was annoyed by the fact that my old blog (Little Black Book) was too public and the stuff that i wrote was secretly read by too many people some of whom i don’t even know of. Plus, I thought it kind of defeated the purpose of catching up with friends and family cause this particular situation always occurred.

“heyyy!!! Long time no see! How’re you doin?”

“oh hi! i’m doin okay. Been busy with uni stuff. But uhh, some shit happened last week man... i was back from college and i found out that my dog...”

“OH YOUR DOG DIED, RIGHT? YEA YEA I READ YOUR BLOG.”

See what i mean?

So that’s why i quitted blogging, i felt pointless telling people UNKNOWINGLY about the happenings in my life, when i could actually do that in more proper ways. And also, being blog-stalked didn’t feel nice so yea, i killed my blog.

However.

after 2 incredible years, now that i’m feeling a little detached from the “thinking side of me”, with all the thoughts and emotions that have been built up inside of me in these 2 years unable to be acknowledged and organised into words, i figured, why not start blogging again? I’m now a 21 year old studying in an isolated place in India, bursting with thoughts and ideas, there’s gotta be an output channel for them! Or else i’d have a mental breakdown.

Moreover, blogging does help me open up more perspectives and look at things in many different ways unimaginable.

But this time, things aren’t gonna be the same. In my old blog, i used to talk about lame daily stuffs like somebody’s birthday or some crazy party i attended(with millions of pictures), or endless ramblings and complaints over the smallest things in life. But rest assured, this time, i shall not torture you with such boring materials you never wanted to know. this new blog will be filled mainly with what my life’s like in India and my interesting discoveries on this interesting land. Thought, ideas, emotions, discoveries, all at a whole new level. Hence the name “Little Black Book. Rediscovered.”

So you’ll get to know the new ME. In fact, I MYSELF will get to know the new me BETTER.

Stay tuned. *winks*