If your head is still hanging down like Tom Dooley’s and if you are rolling on the floor covered with sackcloth and ashes with a plaintive cry on your lips as a result of reading my previous article, let me tell you ,there is hope.
Not in a vaccine though, which the cognoscenti say, is just as chancy as Covid itself. The subject of its vaunted efficacy is for the Astrazenecas , Modernas, Sputniks and the like to debate, to say nothing about the feeble efforts of our own humble Coronil promoted by Ramdev (who is in a way, promoted by the government). You are also of course at liberty to try various waste outputs of the Indian cow, as some of our countrymen – particularly from the northern States- have done and got themselves photographed.Not a pretty sight 😉 if you saw the pictures, but then to each one to his own. That said, some of you must have seen the photograph of the loud-mouthed Madhya Pradesh Sanyasin being air-dashed to a Bombay Hospital because the cows did not do their work properly.
Anyway , all of this is neither here nor there. We ought to be focusing on what makes life worth the living in the midst of this dampener of a pandemic. For one, God is still on the throne; the sun 🌞 doesn’t forget to shine. Now and then there are rain 🌧️ clouds that douse even a city like Madras in the month of May. There are books , there is music. There is electricity , why there is internet . Ah there is Netflix , Amazon movies and k- drama. Enjoy.
Back to our subject: the hospital gown. It is a rare piece of garment birthed in simplicity. Basically consisting of back piece and a centrally open front piece conceived to be worn like a bath-robe, with the right side lapeling over the left and neatly kept in place by tied knots. That is the theory. But in practice the strings are never there, with the result that the garment reveals much much more than it conceals.
Coming to think of it, it actually comes close to what is called lingerie (mind you it is a French word and the natives there have a funny way of pronouncing it) designed by famous men in Milan , London, Paris and New York bending over cutting tables. The question of why fame should accrue to men who cobble together langods made of cloth snippings, bits and pieces is best addressed to the editors of Vogue. (But how effortlessly we have descended to the nether regions!)
No ,we shouldn’t digress again. We are talking about the humble Hospital gown 🤣 and I do not mind telling you that I am wearing one. This one makes no pretentions about imitating a double-breasted jacket and is blissfully free from the constraints of strings. The decollete style might look good on demure damsels but as for me, I feel like a buffoon in this unsightly costume. I toyed with the idea of sending you a selfie for your viewing pleasure but visions of my wife’s scowl put paid to it.
You can bet that the moment the doctor mentions the D word I am going to reach for my t-shirt.
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