Last week a person who gives out on hire his Dolby music truck for marriages and other functions used a vacant plot near our house to test his equipment. The heavy dose of bass that he blasted from his truck towards our house made me sick to the core. Such loud music is a common occurrence in cities and small towns of India, more so during the various religious festivals like Ganpati, Dussehra and the like. This noise pollution is further exacerbated by firecrackers during Diwali and marriage festivals.
“Since I was a 3 month old baby, I would have to get my blood pumped every two weeks… that is the life of a thalassemia major patient. It wasn’t my parent’s fault, but the negligence on the part of a doctor to inform my parents that because they were both thalassemia minors, there was a high possibility that their child would be a thalassemia major. Even though he profusely apologized after I was born, what was done was done.
With a wound that refuses to heal on her shoulder, nine-month-old Ruksana lives with her parents - and hundreds of others patients from across India - on the footpath outside the Metro station of Delhi's All India Institute of Medical Sciences (AIIMS). After waiting six months amid the noise, dust and traffic, they finally have an appointment with an AIIMS doctor - a year from now.
The car window winds down and new age author Paolo Coelho asks for directions to the expressway. "Here, have this map," I reply, handing him a folded piece of paper with "Follow Your Dream" on it.
Okay, that hasn't happened yet, but scientists say we live in an infinite multiverse which means that it is statistically guaranteed to happen somewhere at some point.
"We need to talk," my wife says. I sit nervously on the edge of a chair. She continues: "I want to hear your views on the comparative merits of the warp propulsion systems of the Millennium Falcon and the Starship Enterprise in tedious detail." For ten seconds, I am the happiest man who ever lived. And then I wake up.