It's one of those days once again when something unseen keeps egging you to write; and the pen-well keyboard actually- finds itself getting automatically tapped to materialise words and phrases that are grammatically correct, hopefully. 

*laughing emoji*

The world is as it has always been. Good, bad, and the spectrum in between, continue to happen. As this brain has been pitched to see the world as a more positive than a negative place, such situations are attributed to the strangely uncommon evolution of the brain of the human kind (as compared to other living creatures). Somehow, the evolution may not have been such a good thing. A sparrow or a tiger in India determines danger, food, love making partners in the same manner as one in Africa or China. But no, not so for us evolved beings. You get where this is going, so I stop.

*winking emoji**sad emoji*

Ma is not well. She doesn't allow us to get depressed about it. We don't know how long she'll live, but her reasoning about death removes the negative emotions associated with the act. Says she, people die not because they're diseased, they die because they're born. Well, that's logic which is difficult to flaw. We're all going to die, so why make a kerfuffle about it?  Also makes you unsure about the necessity of the afore-mentioned evolution.

*puzzled emoji*

We hobby writers belong to the flock of the hobby singers, musicians, artists, dancers and so on. Having spent all the post childhood life with the medical fraternity, my knowledge of such talents is largely limited to hobby artists from this sorority. Dr Tapan Saikia, Dr Archana Deka, Dr Nabajyoti Saikia keep their Facebook communities enthralled with their writings. It drops jaws to see how language can be used in ways that capture observations and emotions giving the reader paradigm shifts.

Dr Moumi Kalita, Dr Gitali Devi have fans for their musical updates. Dr Pankhi Dutta is a pro-singer and the apparently effortless juggling between her dual professions makes her a role model for many doctors.

So there are points of time where there is a voice in the head that mumbles write write write and when we shut our ears to that voice, which is pointless basically, 'cause the voice is in the head you know, this mumbling becomes louder and louder till you can no longer ignore it and before you know, the writing is on the blog or facebook, whichever is your preferred outlet.

Let me tell you about this trip to Kolkata from Guwahati. My boarding gate was on the ground floor and for some unable to remember reason I took the stairs to the first floor of the airport. There, with unmistakable white hair was the debonair Dr Tapan Saikia. It was a meeting after eons, so duty made me give him updates on the status of my disease that he had treated several years back. The clock on the facing wall created the interruption in the monologue and I wondered aloud why there were no departure gate queues even though the departure was scheduled in some five minutes. Dada asked me the gate number and of course it was on the ground floor, so without the littlest noise or so much as an adieu, I slithered away and took the shortest possible time to reach the flight whose gates had started to shut. The dirty looks from the attendants were something one could live with as the flight at least wasn’t missed.

*shaking with laughter emoji*