10% doctor

With a total of 10 semesters over 5 years, I figure one semester done should make me 10 percent of a doctor, right? Right.
After starting at university again I've realized I need lots of fancy quotes around me to excuse my recently acquired antisocial tendencies. Not to mention, they still haven't shown us any dead bodies. With all the deaths in Karachi, you'd think they'd be able to get their hands on a few cadavers for us, but no. Still not showing us the morbidness which med schools are famous for.

I'M BACK

Hey all,
So after a hiatus of over a year I am back again to start adding inane details about my life to the already overcrowded world of the interwebz. But that's freedom, right?
 Moving on, why have I been away so long and what have I been doing? Mundane questions. Suffice it to say, I've changed from a multitude of incidents. And I like the new me.
Why am I back? Well, I've recently started reading a number of blogs and I've been toying with the idea of restarting my blog. The real pushing factor came from a class fellow's blog, which I unexpectedly stumbled across and which kind of fascinated me. So now, I is back.
What is happening now? I'm in med school, I'm having fun and I'm finding out I have hitherto unsuspected depths of depravity in my soul.
Who do I think will read this? I shall have to wait for the comments for that one.
Until then, bless ye who read this

Time Travelling

So for those of you who don't know nothing about my comic craze, allow me to explain. I love drawing. I have these dreams of becoming a comic artist someday. And NO, I am not one of the sad creatures who wanted to study fine arts but instead are being forced into the murky world of science by the parental body. I simply find the idea of being a doctor plus part-time comic artist, fascinating. So enjoy the bizarre humour of my comics.

Cliches

So yea, we're all taught to frown upon cliches and avoid them at all costs. And nothing is more annoying then having cliched versions of "i told you so!" when you've just flunked a university entrance exam.

But sometimes they're so damn true. Take this for instance,

Grief comes in 5 stages: denial, anger, depression, regret, acceptance.

DENIAL: NO! NO! NO! HOW CAN THIS HAPPEN TO ME! I'M SUPPOSED TO ME SMART! HOW CAN THEY FAIL ME BY 4% *tosses letter aside* this not happening! this is not happening! *starts tearing at hair quite literally*

ANGER: oh so you've rejected me huh? I'll be the best fucking doctor in asia one day and then when you beg me to come work for you I'll spit in your faces! HAH! I'm better then this! I can do so much better! *has no idea what the hell to do* 

DEPRESSION: *lolling around in bed* i wanna diiiiiiiiiiie! *sends emo suicidal text to friend who freaks out and starts texting back like crazy* i was born to loooose! why do people like me exist! *forgets about the exam being held next day*

REGRET: *sits crying at kitchen table in front of mommy* MY FAULT! MY FAULT! I should've worked harder! why didn't i work harder! why did i waste so much time on the computer! WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME! *bangs down fist hard enough to spray self and mommy with mashed potato bits* I'll never feel like this again! I'll always work hard for what I want!

ACCEPTANCE: will blog about it when it comes -_-


Currently, I'm still hovering between no 3 and 4 with random bursts of hysterical-laughter induced optimism thrown in.

A Japanese dream come true

This incident actually happened quite a while ago, but I thought it worth blogging about since I have nothing else to blog about at present (not writing about drones yet). So the other day I went to the super market to get some stuff. And this was one of those big, fancy markets where all the foreigners come too. I'm standing in front of the chocolates rack and suddenly all these Asians come outta nowhere, like 7 or 8 of em. I almost swooned there and then (LOVE the far east). So anyway, they're standing in front of the racks, and I'm like "Uh excuse me" No response. "EXCUSE ME" NO RESPONSE. Then I say, "Sumimasen?" (excuse me in Japanese). ALL of them turned around to look at me with these wide eyes and shocked expressions. One minute nobody's paying any attention to me, next minute they're gaping at me. Instead of making small talk (THEY'RE ASIANS. HOW COULD I MISS OUT ON THAT OPPORTUNITY), I grabbed the chocolates I wanted and walked away, highly confused by their gaping. 

Such an ultimately spontaneous experience. I will never forget the sheer epicness of that encounter. Ever. Not even when I'm cruising through the sea of Japan on my private yacht.  

Unity

Most Pakistanis, it seems, are born and bred to hate the nation that was once a part of their own. Come any competition and along with a fervent desire to see Pakistan win, we start booing down India. But recently, I found out from a friend across the border that most Indians actually support Pakistan unless they're playing against India. He told me there were so many fans (Indian and Pakistani) who swapped tickets with each other so that they could watch one inning each. And this guy has never once said anything insulting about Pakistan or Islam. Which leaves me wondering, if so many of us common citizens can overcome the hatred of decades, why is it so hard for those political bigshots to not be at each others throats. Pakistan, India, Bangladesh; we're all the same race, same land, share a common past. What is it that makes it so hard for different facets of the same culture to co-exist in peace?
These thoughts are exactly why I've shocked half the people around me by saying; "COME ON INDIA! I'm as much on your side as Srilanka's!" :p

Addiction of a whole new kind

I've heard that the radiations from your computer screen can eventually turn your brain to goo; destroy the left side of it, which is the creative part of the brain and in general do lots of other horrible stuff. All the horrible stuff that comes from an unhealthy addiction. And for me that's typing. I love typing. It's so soothing. The keys giving way, the staccato clicks, the plastic feel: oh so lovely and mechanical and familiar. I'm addicted to typing. No wonder people think I'm nuts.