In case you are not able to view the image(s) below completely, click on it so that it opens in a new window/tab. Duh.
You heard it right.
Os and all other inhabitants of Voracity are in a state of suspended animation. It's highly likely that it'll take almost half a month to set things right.
Readers are requested to stay calm and not panic. Meanwhile, in case you are really desperate to fill that deep hollow within you (pun not intended), you can read some comics mentioned on the left side panel of this page. I read them often; they're worth every byte your modem downloads. Plus they're updated quite often.
Shoo.
I might scribble something in this space in a few days.
Still freaked out.
I’m socially retarded. I’ve got nothing more to say :(
Edit (in response to comments)
I thought you guys would forgive me for cutting short the text that accompanies the cartoon.
The rant, 'I'm socially retarded' was the day I went to a nice Bandra Chinese joint. It has little to do with Gonecase; though it has a lot to do with my profession. Anyway, the entire story sounds pale now.
I know quite a few people who love dominating, foul-mouthed women. This cartoon was supposed to poke fun at them.
Anyway, I'm a lot myopic. So see you later. Pun suspended. Oops. Intended.
I hope you remember Dr. Serclage. I think most people have a memory better than mine – at least that’s what my pharmacology textbook has made me realise.
At the moment I’m really freaked out – it’s after I drew the cartoon I realised that Gonecase has one foot in the air, sort of. Never mind, as long has both his hands are in the pocket. His own pocket.
I have a reason to believe that most medical students are perverts, if not anything else.
Some purists may be up in arms against me after reading this; it might offend some geniuses. But, dudes, you haven’t paid me for anything.
I can cite some examples, but I won’t – because I know one of you is just waiting to report this blog and put an end to my creative bravura. Creative – haha :)
Until next time – remember that a horse can’t bend its knees. If you can’t too – go for a DNA test.
Some people have started to believe that I’m anti-human.
But I still think that many people deserve a deep poke with the beak of a bird on their skull when they act sick. So if you still think I’m anti-human, there’s more. I can come up with something worse.
It’s just that I’m too bored to elaborate now. Maybe some other time…
Marathi is one of my favourite languages, especially for its slang – though I can’t speak much of it (oops! Did RT hear me?).
I’ve been abused countless number of times by this certain clerk in my college office in Marathi. She’s given me choicest gaalis, much to my entertainment. I didn’t even have to pay her, like I did for Dean’s signature. The best part is that when I laugh, it irritates her even more and a vicious cycle sets in. Sometimes, another aunty who sits next to her comes to her aid and spews more venom.
If you irritate people to a great extent, many times they suddenly stop screaming. They fume so much that words don’t seem to flow from their mouth. That’s called success. At this point, their blood pressure is so high, that they burst at least 100 capillaries in their brain. Poor them
Until next time, remember to look into your plate while eating.
(If my posts seem shorter and end more abruptly than usual, blame it on the exams. They're too close for comfort.)
(Sorry for being so truant – a blood sucking culex gave me dengue and took away nearly 3 lakh platelets/ cmm last week.)
From the above cartoon, I might appear sort of antisocial to you. In fact, most of this blog depicts antisocial stuff which probably rips apart intestines of some good Samaritans. In case your intestines are affected too, you better buy a pack of chromic catgut. It’s more difficult to use than latex, however.
Once you’ve read this, you’ll probably shut your PC and go for a walk on the road. Just be more observant this time. Nine out of ten people will bump into you on the pedestrian crossing and they won’t even turn back to say sorry. One happy-go-lucky uncle carrying a hard attaché might fracture your knee as they run into you carelessly. If you don’t pay attention, someone might just spit on your toe. Most cars tend to take a reverse and hit your butt just when you’re walking past them. Tell me frankly; at least once, didn’t you by mistake discover someone’s chewing gum stuck where it shouldn’t be? In a train, have you not been trampled upon by a man busy talking to a stock market agent? I love being antisocial – I love hating such people.
Oh ya, after a long time, you’ll get two cartoons per week again; at least for the next 3 weeks.
Until next time, just check; I think your pet praying mantis is actually an atheist.
Unfortunately for you guys, Os is still alive.
If you're missing Os like you're fish out of water, manage with that ventilator for some more time.
If you hate this space but you're forced to read it, blame it on your karmic comeuppance, dude.
You have my sympathy. Seriously.
Until next time, hopefully your appendix will stay in your abdomen.
Some people are really desperate.
The reason why this post might probably lead you to believe that I have recently developed a low threshold is my posting in gynaecology. I’m not a chauvinist, but you got to believe me when I say that women in this department are as useless as that piece of garbage stuck at the bottom of your bin.
After some path breaking analysis, I have concluded that most women in gynaecology are so weird that they end up divorcing their husband, unless he too is a gynaecologist (and therefore, as weird, duh). Or they never get married. As far as male gynaecologists are concerned, they are either gay or effeminate. This is my opinion; I plead you, don't care a fig for what I have to say.
Coming back to the topic, oh wait, there is no topic. By the way, ever heard of barking monkeys? Come with me, I’ll show you sometime.
Until next time, till your teeth are stuck to their gums…
My parents used to call me a cockroach when I was young. Simply because I had this unusual habit of feeling hungry at around 1 am – everyday, without fail, when everyone was, obviously, fast asleep. I used to hunt for food in the kitchen, refrigerator and the good old snacks cupboard. I don’t know why I’m reminded of this sick fact now.
I’ve read somewhere that cockroaches are fast; coordination between their four (or is it more?) limbs is amazing. I can’t imagine how some people can actually eat them… yikes.
I hope you know what you’re supposed to do when you get a feeling that your commode is hungry. So what if it’s 1 am?
(This is probably the most random stuff I’ve ever written. And posted.)
I hate people who give unsolicited advice. Especially on issues that don’t matter to me much.
Last week, I was posted for swine flu duty (H1N1, to be precise). If you are a Mumbaikar, you would know that the BMC has started this swine flu helpline, a 24-hour telephone line (108) where one can call and get emergency information on this disease. For 5 days, I was one of the ‘doctors’ from KEM recruited for this job. I had night duty on all 5 days, from evening 8 to next day morning 8.
The phones rang like hell. People called like crazy and I had to solve weird doubts. Basically, I was convincing them how their non-specific symptoms are not related to H1N1. So far so good.
Then it happened.
A guy called up at 1.30 am, well past midnight. He sounded old; like a retired man who had no work whatsoever. And started giving me unsolicited advice. I explained to him that this was a helpline number and was meant only for people who require information. But he didn’t care. He started giving me advice instead. He told me how people should not panic. I agreed to him. He told me that media is creating an unnecessary hype. I agreed again. He told me how America should take up responsibility. I couldn’t take it anymore.
I asked him again, “Do you need any information?” I mean, any sane person wouldn’t call up at 1.30 am if it weren’t serious enough. But this man went on talking! He asked me why there is only one laboratory in Mumbai testing samples. I gave him reasons, which are quite valid, but he wasn’t in a mood to listen. He went on talking some gibberish and I had no choice but to respond. I tell you, if I meet that man in person, I’ll break his canines.
In the end, when he was gratified, or at least seemed so, he asked me, “Doctor, tell me one thing; isn’t this phone line toll-free? Thank god!”
(That’s Puss – the good-for-nothing cat.)
We were attending a microbiology practical class and a rather mean lecturer was describing certain parasitology slides. There was this particular slide, which was supposed to harbour eggs of a certain disgusting nematode. I was told to identify the eggs in the slide. I looked desperately but did not find any product of conception in the slide. All I could see was magnified faecal matter.
The lecturer was furious. She was confident that the slide contained more than a million eggs. She shoved us to one side with her pointed elbow; muttering something, she proceeded towards the microscope. “You people know nothing. I’ll only have to adjust.”
Haughtily, she adjusted the light and fine power. She searched. And searched. She was so lost in the slide that she didn’t realise it had been more than 20 minutes. We stood behind her, waiting eagerly for the Eureka moment. But, nothing happened. I’ve heard an average Indian sex lasts for about 20 minutes. And here we were standing looking for some eggs smeared with shit which probably were, nonexistent.
Frustrated, we decided to teach her a lesson. One of my batch mates took a step ahead so as to stand right behind her. Meanwhile, rest of us huddled in another corner, waited with bated breath, like what cows do in a storm. All of a sudden, he uttered a loud ‘boo’!
The lecturer was shell-shocked. We couldn’t control our laughter. We were thrown out of the lab – but at least we were no longer hunting for some promiscuous worm’s progeny.
(If you haven’t noticed, today is a Friday and this is the thirteenth strip. What luck.)
For some odd reason, coffee sells less than
nimbu paani in our canteen. So much so, that by around 3 in the afternoon, Shetty actually runs out of
nimbus. But not coffee powder. Or milk. And this is not funny.
I miss the French Vanilla at Starbucks. But I don’t want to risk my life by trying out Shetty’s coffee.
(If you haven’t noticed, in addition to the ‘usual’ characters, almost every strip has a flower and a piece of grass drawn next to it. I don’t know how, but I just realised that they are seeing each other. Love is not only in the air, but also in the soil.)
I was dying to watch Ice Age 3 since the day I saw its advertisements in the newspaper. Intern’s strike was the perfect time to catch the movie. Ice Age 2 was amazing, and 3 is probably better.
By the way, I don’t know why people love flavoured popcorn. I know a few people who buy caramel popcorn to just lick them clean. Yuck. The good old half-burnt, half-raw, yellow, small popcorn worth ten bucks are much better.
This Sunday was my co-intern, Nirali’s birthday. Both of us had emergency duty in ward 12 on Saturday which was supposed to go on till Sunday morning 7. Ward side-room is as sidey as it sounds; it’s certainly not the best place to celebrate one’s birthday.
But we had a nice time. Some friends got a huge cake at around 11:45pm Saturday night and quietly slinked into the side-room without her knowledge. The cake was amazing! Vishaal and Mansi had meticulously planned every detail to surprise Nirali. Nitya was armed with her camera.
Coming back to the topic – Rujul cut a huge piece of cake and stuffed it in my mouth. I think I was talking too much. That was a ploy to keep my mouth shut. It worked real well; but the cake was heavenly and my mouf managed to gulp it down in no time.
Did I say mouf? Sorry. It’s difficult to talk when your mouf is full.
This cartoon, unfortunately, reflects my current state. Gastroenteritis is not a good thing to have, especially when you have a 24-hour duty the next day.
Hopefully, things will settle down soon. No more food in RMO’s/canteen/Milan. That’s my ten thousandth declaration.
There are days when you are really hungry. Especially when it rains; you feel like lazing around, doing nothing at all.
Saturday - a treat at McDonald's, Phoenix. Sunday - dinner at a nice place, Juhu. Monday - movie at PVR, Phoenix. Life is good.
(This comic strip features Hog, the hungry commode.)
Commodes and toilets always remind me of PSM. As an intern, you don’t want to talk about PSM. How I wish I could kill a few people from that sick department.
Sirvix and Dr. Serclage point out how some people are blissfully unaware of the dimensions of their appendages. Once, when I was in second year, our gymkhana had put up college T-shirts on sale. They were available in three sizes; S, M and L. The T-shirts were well designed and were selling like hot cakes. A female, probably a year or two senior to me, also came to the gymkhana for buying one.
Now this female wasn’t fat or obese, but was otherwise quite healthy, with decent sized body parts. She demanded an extra-small size T-shirt. The guy selling T-shirts, also an MBBS student, informed her that only three sizes were available and extra-small wasn’t ordered.
It was pretty obvious that even a small-sized T-shirt wouldn’t fit her, leave alone extra-small. But she continued to haggle and argue. Our gymkhana is not a professional store with changing rooms and stuff. This made the situation even more awkward.
Finally, after around 15 minutes, she was enlightened. She reluctantly purchased a large-sized T-shirt and quietly left the place. The guy heaved a huge sigh of relief. Life was back to normal.
(Thanks Avirup! The new font looks much better!)
(Inmate is known to cause serious injuries to our boorish comic-folk when it ricochets in the panel; that's why eggs in Voracity need to be puncture-proof.)
(Poor Pott. He always tries to find some logic in Os's foolish theories.)
Incompetent Os was long overdue; but better late than never. Few more cartoons in the series are in the template stage and will be posted as soon as they are completed. Hope you like them!
If you have any thoughts on how the layout, etc can be improved, your constructive suggestions are welcome.
