Biology has been known to have become any humans portal to the living world, ecosystem, cells, reproduction, genetics and all. And though The Maker, Almighty intended for us to benefit from the scientific discoveries that constantly open new doors and oppurtunities, once in a while even the most well oiled machine tends to backfire. In Nature, such a disruption comes in the form of the dreaded... Menopause!

I'm a woman. and every month I ovulate like all the other normal and sometimes hopeful females do. The menstrual cycle unleashes upon the world a dreaded conglomeration of moods, emotions and hormones that are usually( and almost always) accompanied by an extremely colourful palette of insults and threats. In a nutshell both men and women suffer a painfully horrific week of eye-rolling and ceramic breaking! But every now and then you run into one woman who takes the cake and manages to ruin an already painful experience. These women belong to a class I fondly refer to as "The Menopaused".

"The Menopaused" are bound together by a tragic anatomic condition, the details of which I will not provide for all the male readers out there. As for the curious, Go Google it! Returning to the point, these unfortunate women take upon themselves the weight of the world to compensate for what they are suddenly lacking namely Ovaries! However, on a metaphorical level, the ceasing of egg production also means a severance from the normalcy in Womenhood, and so they crib and cry and yell and gush and mush, and cook and bake and hug and stich and paint and boast and berate, sometimes in quick succession which leaves a very confused audience incapable of reacting appropriately to such rapid mood swings. "The Menopaused" if angered can be the worst of all forces never to be reckoned with. They display bizarre levels of strength, revealing a facet that up until then was dormant. I haven't personally crossed paths with a "Menopaused" but I have caught a glimpse of a "Menopausling"(one that is on the path to Menpause), and might I assure you, the fledglings are just as unpredictable and frightening.

I wish to quickly enumerate certain survival tips in case one encounters a "Menopaused":

a) In case an object that possess the power to inflict severe damage to the receiving body is hurled at you, assess the option to dive either to your left or right , and in the worst case scenario, fall straight to the floor. But watch out for the shards on the rebound!!
b) If the "Menopaused" is terribly angered, she could and probably would extend her arm to slap you straight in the face. Now this is tricky because any reflex action on your part that results in safety could only anger her even further because of the wasted effort. Which in turn unleashes a violent slapping spree. The solution therefore lies in accurate judgement. In the time that the" Menopaused" raises her hand, one must assess the force involved. If the punch seems tolerable then step to it and turn the first cheek. But if she is bound to pack in a punch that could get you admitted to the fourth floor of a hospital then make a sharp turn and take one on the back. It's not as bad as it sounds because according to laws of Physics, the greater the area, the less if the force!
c) The hardest part in dealing with a "Menopaused" is the Verbal Encounter, which unlike the Physical Encounter, is continuous and extremely dynamic. I cannot dispense information that has been proven successful by trial and error purely because I am yet to taste my first victory in this field. So far I've realized that aiming to predic tand systematize the behaviour of a "Menopaused" is impossible. She has mastered the art of misdirection so perfectly that you are almost always sucked into her inviting visage only to be bombarded by insults and criticisms that draw from past experiences and will undoubtedly extend to future debates. Ultimately, I've learnt to be a passive receiver and my theatrical skills have been sharpened to a point.

So having enumerated certain guidelines to cope with the dreaded "Menopaused", I wish everybody the very best of luck! I'll see you at Drama Club!

Horse..you can have your Blinders Back!

There are certain things in life that we can predict. Although some would certainly beg to differ ..well screw all you fatalists! I think we should read signs more often and listen to that voice in our heads more often. Why I say this is only to stress on the fact that today we humans are completely smothering an ancient art that is on the brink of extinction now because of the continous need for us to PLAN, ASSORT, PRIORITIZE and MANAGE our lives beforehand. We are extinguishing the greatest part of being alive by forgetting what living in the moment feels like.

Why is it that people so often use the phrase "Stop and smell the roses!"? Probably because in today's chaotic existance, the roses have to be torn off their beds , processed, packed and delivered to your match box apartment for you to even realize that flowers still grow. I am not suggesting a renunciation of all material, worldly traits to blindly accept a Bohemian lifestyle. History has shown us how that turned out for the Hippies. But why must we feel guilty about cutting out a sliver of the day to satiate the heart rather than saturating the head? I should be able to pick up a damn guitar and sing my vocal chords dry at 3 A.M if that's what it takes to feel like myself once in a while.
I should be able to provide results without being hounded about what means I took to get there.
I should be able to experience mistakes rather than observe them to know what life truly is.
So why do we spend all our lives in the safe, packing in soft coushining for a possible fall? Where did all the free spirits fly to? Should we classify "Chance:" and "Risk" as mythological characters alongside Hera and Prometheus?
Was Pink Flloyd right when he said we dont need thought control?
How ever will I find the answers to these questions if I'm meant to be somewhere else, doing something socially productive in the financial, educational sense of the term?