I remembered something yesterday, after we finished watched the first episode of Season Two of House. This is not the first time I have developed such a serious liking, nay, love for a doctor with deep, unresolved issues.
The last time this happened was way back in school, when Pakistani soaps were all the rage in my household. Our local video library stocked VHS (but naturally) tapes of hugely popular soaps like Dhoop Kinare, Ankahi, Tanhaiyan, Parchhaiyan and many others the names of which slip me right now, me being in the thick of my twilight years and everything. They were truly brilliant with very gripping storylines and some fantastic acting. Oh and great jokes too, important even back then. It was around that time that I had developed a massive crush on Dr Ahmer Ansari, the brooding doctor with the young, cute protege in Zoya Ali Khan. Ah, the sweet innocence of young love (mine, not Zoya's). Terrified of ridicule, I remained silent about this true and undying love. Sisters after all can be merciless teases.
It's also interesting how the more things change, the more they remain the same. Indian television still sucks. People like me still need to import our entertainment from other countries. I still like brainy men. The sisters still specialise in cutting me down to size.
Unfortunately, although I have spent many years living around hospitals, no doctor ever came close to my celluloid (or whatever the telly equivalent is called) heroes. Which is when I diversified into finance.
P.S. The table mystery from the previous post is still open to answers. Nothing has sounded satisfying yet, hehe.