Slapstick

The spunk is gone. Monkey barely remains.
So much has happened.
I was actually in a Kasaravalli-dilemma-struck-character reverie (no background music, out of focus camera, and Rushmore-still -- for about 6 minutes. We'll allow for a crow to croak, and for there to be dark clouds; working that whole Kalidasa Maaghe meghe vayam gatah pun) just thinking about the mindnumbing things that have transpired over the last two years, which by the way is the whole point of this post. (I was random blog-surfing, turns out that blog was celebrating birthday, hurriedly checked monkey, and it had been two weeks since it had been two)

Turns out, I am HIV negative after all.
Turns out, Neurology is my field of interest.
Turns out, I am going to be studying under guy whose profile picture has pink orchids.
Turns out, somebody else is paying for it, so it's okay.
Turns out, I have loved.
Turns out, I have lost. Too.

I remember that during the heydays of this blog, I would suddenly, as if in an epiphany, come up with a line that I thought was incredible, and would chuckle all the way back home at my extreme cleverness, inviting persecuting glances in 180 second traffic signals, and would type out an entire post 3000 word long just so I could put that line in somewhere nonchalantly. So purgatory it felt. It was never great writing, not even good, more often than not, but the fact that so many were reading, and wondering who I was gave me a whole Clark Kent - Peter Parker smugness. It could be that the number was two, but hey, someone actually spared a second.

But,
that was then.

Since then,
I have been through interesting quote marathons (You won't come back to India, I will, You won't come back to India, I will, You won't come back to India, I will, You won't come back to India, I will, Okay, let's begin, so you are a medical intern?, Ahaa, So tell me about subliminal economy, Huyn)
I have cringed enough to cause my hair singe.
I am showing signs of future raging alcoholic.
I have met an openly gay man.
And did not catch myself blurting, Ayyo you are gay?
I have braved family gatherings of 300+ strength, and emerged sane.
Although with cherishable sobriquets. National Treasure being my favorite.
"So, wedding near Thames aa?"
"No no, Buckingham-u, alve?"

"And for Kashi Yaatre, Pittsburgh-u! Ho Ho Ho"
"Orient is turning occident-u, and this is no accident-u, Ho Ho Ho"
(No, not Santa Claus)

And I have let slip the opportunity to document all these awe-inspiring events. In popular parlance, they refer to it as Losing It.

I have.
Not quite, but we are picking nits. While we are at it, I am zitfree!
Here's bye bye to adolescence. And hello, Old Spice.

(I should really post more often.)

(It's blogbirthday, so go right ahead and wish it many years of being scribbled in.)