The outside of the asylum

One often wonders if sanity is relative as insanity may only be a perceptual phenomenon coloured by the state of the person who lords over the decision of deeming one sane. This, is a relative attmept at sanity. As much as can be reasonably expected to be left behind after days of working in one of the oldest of the asylums in India.

As it often reminds the few students who pass by the now defunct main gate of the department of psychiatry(picture), the flowers and impressive porticos in stone only serve to mute the cries of some of its inhabitants. That's right, it is the junior residents under the payroll of the henious Vogons who lord over the throne of this century old insituition; the patients having gone on to much higher levels of existence as ensured by chlorpromazine and the NHRC.

This post hopes to echo the cries of all those who languish till late, bitch at the coffee shop and embarrass ourselves in therapy, thesis and academics through an MD degree and to chronicle the few pickled anecdotes from within the beautiful stone walls.

and thus,

with due respects to Douglas Adams, and Wonko the sane.

from the outside of the asylum,

osho