Poems ,Stories and lot more .. By Maneesha Purandare

  When Kiran and I decided to visit Amsterdam, I was excited for tulips, canals, and maybe a bit of Rembrandt. Little did I know I’d end up with more giggles than Gogh and more confusion than Van Gogh’s self-portraits! This bustling hub of history and modernity, commerce and creativity, had a few surprises up its canal-lined sleeves. We checked into this eco-friendly haven called the Conscious Hotel. Right from the funky, upcycled decor to the fact that even the room key felt like it had done a PhD in environmental science, everything screamed “save the planet.” Inspired and guilt-ridden for every plastic bottle I’ve ever used, we set off for a sunny stroll to Dam Square. Now, Dam Square is a people-watcher’s paradise. It was buzzing with both locals and tourists, everyone basking in the crisp autumn sun. As we strolled along the picturesque canals, I noticed an unusual number of folks peering intensely into the water, poles in hand. “Are they fishing for a particular type of fish?” I

 In the land of love handles and muffin tops, Where spare tires and beer bellies never stop, Thunder thighs shake, making quite the scene, And double chins wobble, as if in a dream. Cankles merge calves and ankles in one, Bat wings flutter when raising a ton. Chunky cheeks blush with a rosy hue, As bingo wings flap, like they're in a zoo. The FUPA reigns supreme, a king in its court, While pooches and mommy pouches offer their support. Jelly rolls jiggle with every laugh and cheer, Creating a chorus that's music to the ear. So let's embrace each roll, each chin, each thigh, For in this quirky kingdom, our spirits fly high. In the realm of body slangs, we're perfectly free, To chuckle at our quirks and live joyously!

 "Balconies, Buses, and Missed Millions" I was at the hospital, carrying on as usual with my clinical work  when I saw this kid who came in for a hearing test. He wasn't wearing his school uniform like the other kids who come for their hospital appointments on a school day do .So, naturally, I got curious and asked, "Hey buddy, is today a day off for you? What’s your grand plan for the afternoon?" Without missing a beat, the kid shoots back, “I’m gonna play Minecraft on my PlayStation!” PlayStation, huh? Oh boy, did that send me down memory lane. You see, back in my day, if we had an unexpected day off from school, there was no PlayStation to save us. Nope. My 'play station' was my house gallery or balcony. The most action-packed part of my day would be counting the rare yellow cars that drove by. Seriously, they were like unicorns back then. Or I’d watch the queue of people waiting for the famous 257 bus. That bus wasn’t just a bus; to me it was a ship

 Alright, folks, gather 'round for the tale of the world's clumsiest human – yours truly! I swear, if there's a way to turn a normal situation into a comedy of errors, I'll find it. It's like I have a PhD in Disaster and a Master's in Mayhem. Picture this: There I was, at a fancy-shmancy restaurant, feeling all posh and sophisticated. I'd just demolished a fabulous biryani and was packing up the leftovers like a responsible adult. Little did I know, I was about to star in my own spicy drama. As I'm tying up the takeaway bag, BAM! Suddenly, my right eye is on fire! I'm standing there, frozen like a statue, wondering if I've been hit by some sort of curry-flavoured lightning. Turns out, I'd somehow managed to flick "mirch ka saalan/  मिर्च mirch का का सालन " right into my eyeball! Who does that? Me, apparently. After what felt like an eternity of eye-rinsing and squinting, I couldn't help but think, "If there's a blunder

  Oh, let me tell you, I’m in that fabulous phase of life where youthful enthusiasm has waved goodbye, and my body has embraced the art of shapelessness. More padding than a couch, I tell you! And it's not the kind of development you’d write home about. But then, I stumbled upon this term called sarcopenia. Apparently, muscle mass starts playing a disappearing act at the rate of 3-8% per decade after 30. Well, isn’t that just scary? So, I decided it was high time to take matters into my own hands and drag myself to the gym. Now, gymming has never been my forte. I mean, who enjoys doing repetitive exercises to songs that sound like alien languages, all while avoiding the glaring truth in those wall-to-wall mirrors? Disaster in the making, I say! But hey, why not make it fun? I started spinning stories about my fellow gym-goers. Not shaming, mind you, just naming! Take Betty, for example. This nimble, athletic girl would hop on a huge cube like it was her personal playground. Her una

 "Rain, Robins, and Relentless Cheer: I was sipping my coffee and watching the endless rain through my kitchen window. It had all gone dark and cold, with a drizzle adding to the misery. I felt like I was trapped in a scene from a particularly dreary British novel, where the only exciting thing to happen is when someone misplaces their umbrella. But then, something caught my eye—a fluffy robin hopping around in the garden. Despite the downpour and the November-like gloom ( in the middle of May), this chunky little bird was out there, pecking for worms and perching on my beautiful plants, which had somehow managed to burst into colourful blooms. I was amazed by its tenacity! Here I was, contemplating my life choices over a cup of coffee, and this robin was having the time of its life. Enter Kiran, our in-house Wikipedia, who decided to add his two cents to the mix. He said, "Did you know that in cold weather, birds can't grow a thick winter coat like many mammals do? Inste

  Loneliness and solitude: the twin siblings of alone time, like two flavours of an ice cream—one delightful, the other a bit sour. Living with them is like hosting a neverending sleepover with your weirdest relatives.  It all began when I decided to move to a different country. Boom, just like that, I found myself alone in a foreign apartment, surrounded by the kind of silence that could make a pin drop sound like a drum roll!. Pascal once said, “The eternal silence of these infinite spaces fills me with dread,” and buddy, he was definitely on to something. First to arrive at the pity party was Loneliness. Imagine this: me, sprawled on my couch like a deflated balloon, munching away those ready salted crisps, wondering why Netflix doesn’t have a “talk to me” feature. Loneliness is that awkward guest who overstays their welcome, whispering sweet nothings like, “No one loves you,” while you reread a “haha” text from your friend, trying to decode if they really laughed or just pitied you

 Picture this: I'm in the middle of what feels like an episode of "The Twilight Zone" where promotions are as rare as unicorns, success seems to be on vacation in the Bahamas, and my bank account is giving me the silent treatment. Seriously, it's like my money has developed its own escape plan and ditched me for a better life. So here I am, feeling about as low as a limbo dancer's bar, scrolling through astrology and numerology websites like they're my last hope for a winning lottery ticket. Because, you know, maybe the alignment of the stars can finally explain why my life resembles a comedy of errors. I catch myself staring into the abyss of my closet, wondering if my clothes are secretly plotting a rebellion against me for neglecting them. Like, sorry, shirts, I promise I'll take you out for a spin once I've cracked the code to success and can afford to wear you to fancy parties instead of just Zoom meetings. And let's talk about my kids. I love

 A day at the bookshop!! As the sun danced in the sky, we went to one of the  biggest bookshops in Europe ,Waterstones , which is situated in the heart of London. With its five storeys of literary wonder, it was a sanctuary for bibliophiles, a place where one could discover knowledge the old-fashioned way! In an era before Wikipedia and Google ruled the roost, bookshops were the Mecca for seekers of guidance and advice. I settled into a cozy corner with a book about a couple's escapades on Venus, fleeing Earth's fiery chaos fueled by politics and materialism. Just as I delved into the narrative, a pint-sized explorer approached, clutching a tiny book about a lost dinosaur. Without hesitation, he regaled me with the tale, and soon we were embarking on a 3D puzzle adventure to reunite the lost dino with its home. Lost in the joy of shared storytelling, I momentarily forgot to inquire about his parents!!  But soon enough, his bustling mother appeared, clutching her brood with grea

  So, I had this brilliant idea to bake a chocolate fire cake for my dear friend's birthday bash. Why? Well, simply because it's the latest craze! You know how it is these days, everything's about what's trending, right? So, when it was time to cut the cake, we poured rum on it and lit it up. But alas, no blue flame in sight! We tried everything, from lighting papers to pouring whiskey, but to no avail. It seemed the poor percentage of alcohol was to blame. Then someone suggested lighting camphor for a bigger, continuous flame. We ended up performing an impromptu arti ceremony, complete with holy mantras in the background. It was quite the spectacle, though not the one we anticipated! Fast forward to a week later.It was time to celebrate another friend 's birthday.I was determined to surprise my friend with a fiery cake. But since we were dining out at a restaurant, I decided to check with the manager first: "Hi there, we've booked a table for tomorrow

  Emperor Akbar, in his infinite wisdom, decided, "Hey, let's spice things up a bit in Agra" So, he summoned his architects and builders and proclaimed, "Build me a fortress fit for a king!" And thus, the majestic Fatehpur Sikri was born! Inside this grand building lie treasures beyond imagination, like Jodha Bai's Palace, a sprawling abode that puts other queenly dwellings to shame! Picture this: a courtyard so vast, you could play hide and seek with elephants, a Tulsi vrindavan right in the center of the courtyard and a Krishna temple blessing you from the front. But wait, there's more! The walls are adorned with carvings that scream Rajputana-Persian art fusion, and, get this, even the kitchen has a flair for fashion with earrings etched into the walls! Legend has it, whenever Jodhabai whipped up a culinary masterpiece for Akbar, he'd play the ultimate guessing game: "Pick an earring, any earring, and I'll turn it into gold for you!&quo

  As I sit here, drowning in a sea of endless scrolls, I couldn't help but rewatch reels about the grand spectacle of the "Jamnagar Jalwa."  Amidst all the glitz and glam, I come across a reel showcasing Isha Ambani's blouse, adorned with jadau motifs from her personal collection. Seriously?  this girl is wearing blouses worth more than my annual salary! It's like she's playing dress-up with my mortgage debt!! But then it hits me - what did the Ambanis do to get so insanely rich? Did they make a deal with the devil? Did they do a secret 'yagn' for the mighty "Lord Kubair" god of wealth? I need answers, people! And apparently, in preparation for their festivities, the Ambani clan decided to play SimCity in real life and constructed 14 different temples. Fourteen! Because nothing says "let's party" like building a religious theme park. I can already imagine the tour guides saying,"And here we have the Ambani Temple of Wealth,

  It was the nth time the junior doctors were on strike, and chaos ensued for us not-so-junior doctors! Back to the basics and the hustle-bustle of the on-call life. I reminisced about my days as a junior doctor in India, where a call boy with a quaint little on-call book dictated our nights. Sign, sprint, and attend – regardless of the sleep deprivation! Then came the bleep system, a shrieking disruptor in the calm of the night. It was as if my ENT qualifications had traded peace for sleepless emergencies. Oh, how I wished I had known the grim reality of on-call chaos! Maybe I should've just been a barista, serving coffee and listening to customers' tales. But duty called, especially on strike days. First up, a rugby enthusiast with a mangled nose. He scoffed at the idea of anesthesia, opting for a swift fix. With a deep breath and a crunchy noise, his nose was good as new – one satisfied customer down. Next, an elderly gent with a nosebleed rivaling a faucet. A quick cauteriz

  As I called my next patient in, a sense of intrigue accompanied me, knowing he had experienced a sudden loss of hearing in one ear. A gentleman in his late eighties entered, his age evident but his smile radiant, calming the room. Throughout our consultation, he exuded a remarkable composure and attentiveness. As we delved into the need for further investigation, a sense of familiarity stirred within me. I couldn't quite place it until he revealed, with a humble tone, that he was the inventor of the middle ear implants widely used today. Shock and elation intertwined within me, witnessing a professor emeritus humbly attending an appointment at a local NHS DGH. Not only did he follow my advice diligently, but he also engaged in a conversation about the evolving landscape of middle ear implants, the advancements in hearing technology, and the burgeoning role of AI in modern medicine. His praise for my bedside manner and diagnosis felt more valuable than any accolade.His modest , hu

  As the morning sun tiptoed through the curtains, I embarked on my usual morning routine, anticipating the warmth of breakfast and the comforting embrace of coffee. However, my journey downstairs took an unexpected detour when I stumbled upon the closed door of my daughter's room. Was surprised to see that her room's door was shut .She was at her friend's and hence I  was more perplexed.Then I thought it was probably my son's way of conserving the radiator 's heat and barged into her room , ready to conquer the chaos within.  As I busied myself tidying her desk and inviting sunshine into the room, my eyes caught sight of the telltale mound of duvet at the foot end of her bed. Ah, the familiar sight of youngster disarray—proof that tidiness was a foreign concept to the younger generation, unless it manifested as an obsessive-compulsive disorder. Satisfied with my efforts, I descended to the kitchen, only to be greeted by a bewildered husband, his words a jolt to my

  As Kiran and I sat in the  corner of the Mexican restaurant in London, we were treated to a spectacle both inside and out. The restaurant, despite its small size, boasted expansive windows that made it feel surprisingly spacious. The staff, oh so chic and glamorous , were like eye candy for all the patrons, offering a feast for the senses along with the delicious food. As I savoured my hibiscus mezcalita, I couldn't help but chuckle at the scene outside. London's typical wet and rainy evening had turned the bustling streets into a stage for a diverse array of characters. From the meticulously prepared with their umbrellas to the carefree souls embracing the rain, each passerby seemed to have their own story to tell. But it was the couple sat next to us that stole the show. A young, cute, white pair, with the boyfriend epitomizing the quintessential English gentleman complete with a neatly folded brolly by his side. It was clear he was the type to ensure his girlfriend's h

  So, picture this: we were all geared up for a rockin' Saturday night out, ready to chow down on some grub and catch up with Akshaj, who we hadn't seen in ages. But oh boy, did fate have a twisted sense of humour. Akshaj's train got stuck at Brookmans Park station because of some random incident. No biggie, we thought, we'll just meet him at Hatfield instead. But then, the train decided to play a game of "let's see how long we can keep everyone waiting" for an extra 30 minutes! We were like, "Enough is enough!" and hatched a plan to rescue Akshaj from Brookmans Park. But as soon as he stepped off the train, it suddenly zoomed off without him! Talk about bad timing! We rushed to the station, only to find the road blocked by the police. Seriously, could this night get any crazier? But thanks to Gargi's common sense , she managed to break through the barricade and track down Akshaj at a nearby pub, where his phone decided to call it quits. Afte

 In this age of phones so smart, Humans seem to play their part, Scrolling through screens, day and night, While their own brains lose their might. Phones can now do more than we think, While humans struggle to pour a drink, From reminders to maps, they guide our way, While humans forget what they did yesterday. Autocorrect fixes our every typo, But human spelling? Oh, that's a no-go! With each new app, our phones expand, While human memory slips through our hand. We ask our phones for every fact, Forgetting our own brains we must enact, While our devices get smarter each day, We seem to get dumber in every way. So let's put down our phones and reclaim our wit, Before we become just screens that sit, For in this race of smart and dumb, Let's make sure our humanity doesn't succumb! MKP  8.2.24

  Ah, that first kiss... The surge of electricity that dances through your veins is like a lightning bolt from Cupid himself, leaving you breathless and dizzy with anticipation. But alas, after that initial spark, reality sets in like a cruel hangover after a night of too much wine. The subsequent glasses of life are like a relentless assault on our poor livers, leaving us longing for the intoxicating euphoria of that first sip. Oh, to have every day be as blissful as that first glass of chardonnay, where worries dissolve and joy bubbles up like the effervescence in a fine champagne! And what about those first drops of monsoon? The air thick with the promise of renewal, the earth eagerly awaiting its quenching embrace. But alas, it's fleeting, like trying to hold onto water in your hands. The magic of those initial raindrops fades as quickly as it arrives, leaving us yearning for that fleeting moment of pure olfactory ecstasy. And then there's that unforgettable first walk hand

  I've only been back a week, and I'm already on a first-name basis with Beechams( cough cold syrup/ potion). The local air is like a ninja, sneaking up on unsuspecting noses. Maybe it's the cleaner air's way of saying, "Welcome back! Let me gift you a cold." This cold has me reminiscing about my glorious KEM days, where battling bacterial sinusitis was as routine as morning coffee. Ah, the good ol' antral puncture under local anesthesia – a delightful procedure where we'd tap into the 'cheek' sinuses like seasoned plumbers fixing a leak. Picture the satisfaction as gooey, green stuff flowed out, a sight more gratifying than a waterfall. It was a dance of relief between patient and doctor. Today, suggesting such a procedure would raise eyebrows – barbaric, they'd say! But is it really, or have we just upgraded from medieval decongestants to antibiotic superheroes? In this saga of battling colds and contemplating sinus rituals, one thing rem

  Us friends hit the town for a quick meal  on a day so crisp it could double as a potato chip. Sunshine, a pinkish sky ,great vibes in the air !  Post-ordering, still on an India trip mentally, my brain went full-on foodie. Reminiscing about kheer, pedha, barfi – the all time favourites and then, the fusion dessert  madness:  boondi-custard, ghevar doughnut, gulab jamun cake – it's like my taste buds took a Bollywood dance class! And let's not forget the ice cream scene – guava ice cream with a side of salt and chili, because who needs seeds anyway? Gulkand ice cream's riding the popularity wave too! Observing people order and eat in a restaurant is like watching a culinary circus. You've got the daredevils dunking pav bhaji with such gusto; the slithery sound is practically a horror movie soundtrack – "eeeeeks"! Then, enter the cleanliness squad, armed with sanitizers, treating their hands like they're about to perform surgery on a salad. And oh, the pic