Making My Ears Bleed

William the Shakespeare wrote some awesome tragedies – at least that’s what critics opine.

He wrote about a man who got nagged by his wife to kill his king

He wrote about a pothead klutz who hung around graveyards and managed to kill himself while trying for vengeance

He wrote about a pair of moronic imbeciles who committed suicide because the whole concept of breath in breath out was a mystery to them

He wrote about a king who was Brutally murdered

He wrote about a luj character who lusted after one Ceaser’s wife and who rebelled against another Ceaser

He wrote about a king who was an idiot and got his arse handed out to him by his daughters

And he wrote about a man doing ‘honour killing’ of his daughter (so its not only a sub continental phenomenon people; people are heinous idiots worldwide)


But all those tragedies pale into insignificance when compared to the wonder that is my life.

My mental problems, scars and battles with depression are known only to a few, cared for by even fewer, helped by nobody.

My organic – see what I did there –  or physiological problems are far more numerous in errr number.

Remember that Operation board game from our childhoods? My body is like an extreme version of that. Whatever you touch is malfunctioning.

Go ahead, pick an organ, any organ – bam, its not working and I have to take meds for that.

Heart? bam

Lungs? bam

Liver? bam

Spine? bam

Shoulder? bam

Knees? bam

Pelvis? bam

Brain? bam

Eyes? bam

I have accepted all that.


What gets my goat is the inexplicable stuff.

Today, I woke up and my left ear started bleeding.


Its life’s and nature’s way of telling me “fuck you, that’s why”

And it was my left ear, mind you. Not my right ear. As you may or may not know, my right ear is already damaged and my hearing is impaired in that one. So any further damage to that is par for the course and not too great a loss.

But no, it has to be left ear which starts acting up.

The  only positive that can come out of this is complete deafness which will lead to my mom, my bosses, Jyotika Khullar et all having to learn sign language in order to shout at me.


I am going down in a blaze of medicines people.

Shakespeare should have written about me.

There is a fine line between comedy and tragedy.

My life story would have been his first farce.


5 thoughts on “Making My Ears Bleed

  1. Ah! reading that comment, I know that I sound heartless. Who am I kidding? I am. But frankly sorry to hear about your condition, mate. Keep your chin up. Remember, Enid Blyton’s Rilloby Fair Mystery? I am assuming you must have read it, and understand the reference to the storm bird and the pressure cooker. Both sing in tough conditions — just like you. Take care & Keep smiling. I know it is easy to say that; but remember life is like constipation: no condition lasts forever.


    1. My dear fellow, if there is one thing you can always be sure with me, its that I never mind a good joke or quote, so absolutely no need to feel sorry …. and I know life does not last forever, that’s the only thing I still have hope about 🙂


      1. I read, I laugh, I then feel pangs of guilt; you really should make movies, even the sex jokes are funny!

        Seriously though, on the depression side I stumbled onto a CES device and it saved me! A fucking miracle my ‘doctors’ claimed to not know about!

        What was really weird was her response when told of this ‘success’: “I DID NOT give that to you!”. A fearful response it was like she would get into trouble with the ‘bosses’! (It appears I was under some sort of mind control from a surgery and it broke whatever they had done to me!)

        It was like waking up from a fog; the depression lifted, my mind cleared and I’ve felt about 10 years younger; very, VERY weird!


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