RIFLE RANGE BOY

I overheard a conversation recently. "How come she is still a pain in the butt? Now that she is seeing a therapist, I thought that she would be less toxic. Hell, no. She is still the same old nuisance. All the time and therapy down the drain!" said one in a hushed voice. "Well, the purpose of therapy is for her own wellbeing. Not to be a plush toy for other to squeeze," her friend replied. "It is for her to be able to withstand biatches like us!' That seems to be right. Counselling and therapy are not meant that it will be a sun-shiny day for everybody. The primary concern is the individual. It may sound very self-centric and narcissistic but that is the reality. This science developed around the time when the century was undergoing massive transformations. People, who before that lived their lives just as a building block in a giant jigsaw puzzle called society, started living for themselves. If ex-communication used to be a death sentence, it beca...

Hindu mythology has it that Lord Shiva's consort Parvati had a unique fruit (Gnana Pazham) that she wanted to give to either of her sons, Ganesha and Murugan. It could not be divided half as its magical power would be lost. Hence, Parvati decreed that the first child to go across the universe would receive the booty. Murugan, using his peacock as his vehicle, flew across the universe in no time to claim his loot. When he returned, he was furious when Ganesha had already received the fruit as he circled his parents, claiming that his parents were his entire universe. That made Murugan raving mad and left home and stayed sulking in self-exile in Palani Hills. The hill was named 'Pazham Nee' (Palani, that he was the fruit of wisdom) by Shiva to cajole Murugan back but in vain. Ganapati outwitting his brother Nicolaus Copernicus and Galileo Galilei had to retract their scientific discovery that the Earth was in fact not the centre of the universe. The church, I guess, w...

Narcissus gazing at his own reflection There I was minding my own business without disturbing anybody, quietly typing my two sens worth of worthless opinions which was not going to change the destiny of mankind but to provide light comic relief to my die-hard followers. Sometimes I do wonder if they are smiling (?laughing) with or at me! Anyway, after last StarMag's column in the Sunday Star newspaper, my family members have unanimously decided that my appropriate place is in the loony bin. They have collectively diagnosed me to suffer from NPDS (Narcissistic Personality Disorder Syndrome). Sufferers of this disorder are said to be self-absorbed individuals who think very highly of themselves, put themselves on a self-made pedestal and forever think of themselves as being better than others and find gratification and satisfaction by other's praises. That is the problem, isn't it? There is a thin line between ingenuity and lunacy. Some professions survive because of nar...