Pros and (mostly) cons of having a widowed post menopausal mum and being the only son

As the title suggests , I do have a mum who is post menopausal and a widow..
So, to begin with, the few, well, the very few pros:
1. She will be totally dependent and doting on you.. Coz, considering you are the only son, you get to enjoy immense independence, and as such if you are the owner of a huge property thingy, then you can always be the khandan ka kalank, and sell all and be happy and spoilt, coz mum wont mind a thing..
And well, thats about it.
Now, before the cons, lets first classify mums into two categories:
No.1: the stone blind and toothless variety.. Dealing with them is easy; Missionaries of Charity, Helpage India, or a nice push off the roof... Insurance would then be yours... MUHAHAHAHA!!!
No.2: The non-blind and toothed variety.. Most of the widowed mums in this age group are really into one -ism or the other.. My mum for instance, is in RamKrishnaism... so the pain begins from that focal point and spreads in your neck and ass regions.. to enumerate:
1. She wishes, tries and plots to indoctrinate you in her system of faith.. If you are a God fearing person, she wont go much far, but if you arent, woe betide!! I, for example, am an agnostic and that pisses her no end.. Needless to say, whenever I go home, i spend most of the time trying to keep her or me as busy as possible, coz otherwise i will be made to listen to her rantings on Swami Vivekanand and the likes..
2. Since you are the only son, she wil try to marry you off, even if you are not 18, or atleast try and get you to latch on to some gal or the other whom she likes.. My mum is intent on hooking me onto this brainless git who lives next door.. of course, she has tried to hook me to n no. of girls alreay.. She is already on the verge of settling down for any choice I make, as long as it walks on two legs...(ah! the bliss, i can finally keep the chimp i am having my.... well, not to be disclosed, PETA will lynch me)
3.Since you are (again) the only son, you will be made to listen to each and every petty happenings in your house when you are not there.. its ok if you go back home at the end of the day, but if you happen to live in the hostel like i do, then the proportion of torturous and tortuous details increase exponentially.. tearing out your hair seems such a relief.
4. this point is specially for the hostel walas.. whenever you return home from the hostel, she has a line up of gals she wants u to meet, and no, its not for rakhi, or as prospective patients (tho if they marry me, they will be)..
5. If your mum happens to be lazy along with the above stated preconditions, then be ready for a bathroom straight from hell.. coz she wont have touched the harpic when you were in the hostel..
6. She will have this blind variety of faith in you, and will persist on thinking taht you are the be-all-end-all of every difficulty, even though you might show her ample evidence to the contrary ( a bit like Pakistan, aint it?)
7. She will try to get things done herself and screw up horridly and then will end up telling you when the thing is beyond salvation.. If you end up salvaging it anyhow, welcome to point no.6
8. She has the tear glands under strict control, and whenever she starts to praise or talk about how someone in the colony/muhallah/galli/nukkad praised you, she will choke up and let loose the stream of maternal love and feeling... and in the next breath complain of shortage of water... as if!!
9. She will NEVER pay her bills... u will HAVE to do it.. Period.
10. She will die one day and then all this will be redundant, coz no matter what, you do end up loving her like your own daughter or something; being protective and careful all the time. I know i do..
Something else tomorrow, ciaos

hey... back again
so, i had a night ER ( thats emergency for the uninitiated.. please dont ask what r is... thats room.. and if you are asking me what that is, please shrivel up and die quitely; we might just feel sorry for your uncle then)
so to be back to the topic, i had er yesterday night.. coz abhishek had jaundice... the curious thing is there seems to be an epidemic of jaundice in the hostel and since its most probably feco-orally transmitted, i dont wanna go into the speculations as to what my hostel mates do behind closed doors.. i always thought rimming is strictly porno paradise.. aajkal ke jawaan, jo bhi dikhta hai sab chahiye hota hai..
so, to again be back at the topic i began with to begin with, i was at the er yesterday night.... and Elizabeth was at Buckingham Palace..HAHAHAHA!!! what? not funny? shove it up your arse then you f***ing prick.!!
so, i was in er yesterday night... and there was this patient who came with his mum and wife with breathlessness and all that jazz.. turns out the guy loves narcotics like i love guys.. u know how it is... you dont? well, if you are a girl, now you do.... if you are a boy, i am free on saturday night..
so, i was at the er yesterday and this guy came and i went to treat him and then i came to know that he is a druggy... so out of the good natured feelings that i had (and out of feeling him good naturedly... and not in that sickening gay sort of way... wait.. i am a bi, aint i? thats the problem with us folks, we kinda lose our orientation mid way), i counseled the guy to stop taking the drug and then asked his wife for driving some sense into his head... turns out, she was the perfect example of an airhead herself...
anyway, to further my intentions ( both good and ulterior), i went off to see him at his place coz he lives near my workplace in Rajabazaar... and what I saw put me off of philanthropy for quite some time now..
I mean, i am not the addict here; he is. I went to his place, I went out of the sheer need to counsel him coz i hate addiction; specially narcotics addiction, and there i see him indulging in the most irreverent behaviour with his wife in front of my eyes!! I would have thought that the time tested formulae of shame and discretion would be at play here, but what I saw was blatant tomfoolery..
I am quite firm that this is the last time i ever go out of my way to help any patient in his attempts to improve his lot.. Not the least coz this guy had the audacity to actually go and inhale dendrite in the middle of the session, but because it is a wastage of time, effort and self respect..
ciaos

so... am back
the blogging thing is a bit tricky for a person as technologically impaired as me...so it took me some time to understand what is going around...
so to continue.. last time i had just started elaborating the hilarious life and times of the wry neck teach, who by the way, thinks he knows the best clinical medicine on this side of the planet..
So, this one fine day this guy, thats the teach, reaches over to this patient admitted in the chronic male ward. Curiously this guy had tremors as one of the complaints he was suffering from..What followed was a hilarious episode where the teach, whose head is continuously wobbling was trying to incorporate in his body language the finer nuances of tremors to ask the patient the duration of the above mentioned affliction.. considering that the teacher's neck was already wobbling the scenario was hilarious, though we did have to keep shut about that.. jaw aching!!
Then again, there is his another sweetheart teacher in surgery.. i can hazard naming him here. Its none other than the gem of surgery, Dr. Makai Das, who provides the best reasons for NOT undergoing surgery, coz even though you might be about to die due to the lack of surgical treatment, its better than dying bit by bit at the OT table under the scalpel of the venerable Makai Das..
Sample question: what can be a complication of cholecystectomy?
Answer: The thyroid gland can be lacerated...
Now, you ask, how is that possible? It is possible coz its Makai my dear.. Elementary dear Watson..
As he once famously said, When I on round, explosion of knowledge...
More on the next blog.. Ciaos

Now that I have started, let the whining begin..
I am one of those peculiarly singular individuals, to whom nothing appeals much.. Yeah, I have read Neitzsche and saki to such an extent that no more sense of moral proportions remain... I know that some might say that moral sense and the judgement of right and wrong have certain well defined boundaries, but then its like the erstwhile British Empire; the boundaries are there, but they keep on changing now and then..
Being a student of the medical proffesion (mouthful, aint it?), I get ample oppurtunity to get whine worthy material... and then there is the rare breed of docs, who can actually turn the tables on patients and their family n frenz..
To begin with there are the Profs.
Now, though we might have tucked away a gem or two in the surgery or gynae dept. but medicine dept. abounds in specimens of typically twisted minds, who needless to say, provide good spice in our otherwise insipid lives..
To begin with, there is the venerable teacher in unit 4 (cant say anything further; i havent yet had my med wards, and the poor soul like me so)..Whenever he enters the wards on a round, the Patient Party (PP herefrom), is made to know in no uncertain terms that they are to scoot off.. How, you ask? Well, the man, in his stentorian voice, loudly asks them to do so, or insults them in the most amusing ways possible...I will be revealing more about him as we go on, but the amusing thing here, is that the PGTs (post graduate trainess for the uninitiated) fall head over heels to copy him, which leads to some pahetic and hilarious chicanery..especially when boys of not even a shred of personality try to put on his voice and end up rasping something in the pit of their stomach...
Then there is teach with a wry neck, whose antiques i will intimate in the next blog..
ciaos

Since every man and his wife are here, specially from my college, and since one does come across the oddball species who is interested in making you read his/her pathetic attempt at poetry or story or whatever (nothing personal intended here, but if you do take it personally, so much the better; i wont have to read your creations then), I have decided to unleash my entire bile on this blog and hope that people who do decide to follow me (woe betide!!) might actually inthe end decide to leave blogger for good, coz there are people here, who rant on like Arundhati Roy(thats me!!) and there are people who can be scathing about others although they themselves dont possess an iota of brain(me again!!)...
And here I just finished of stretching a line into a para, just like Virginia Woolf in Mrs. Dalloway.. I wish I had "a room of my own"..