Tuesday, January 1

Post, bloody post.

Like all good things, this blog is going white. (ipod, gtalk...)
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I know the little readership of this gooey blog is squirming to get another post out of me, so I'll do the unthinkable and publish an old one. Forgive me, father.
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For the oblivious reader, I've been known to speak only when spoken to, sometimes out of the necessity to be polite. But then there are times when the unfortunate few will get a chance to hear the inside stuff - the superstitions, the conspiracy theories, admired(ahem) and despised people. Now I'm only an average conversationalist but it's usually elementary to tell when the look of friendly understanding changes to the look that I have when I'm subjected to the almighty P. Jha's lectures on Indian sensibilities. In short, like you, dear reader, they are somewhere between bored and confused.
On the other hand, place me close to a geek and watch the words flow into sentences, sentences into theories and theories into essays. In fact I'd rather you didn't watch while this happens for your own sake. But don't get me wrong, I still prefer being alone, mostly coz I despise geeks- especially those smarter than me. I paste their passport sized mental photos and cross them out every time they go down. But don't worry I don't kill people. Yet.
The latest happy thing has of course been the new year- one more reason to booze and dance around giant fires, or if you're like me, annoy innocent people with weirdly short messages instead of a whole story about how I wish them great joy and prosperity. I do hate to admit though, this is an awful time to be alone.
I've been to excruciatingly boring parties and I've watched Doordarshan's elaborate shows to humour half a billion morons on new year eves but I haven't really been alone. And so the Roorkee Syndrome gets to me yet again and I go on a marathon of watching 'House M.D', practically doing night outs everyday just to watch this incarnation of Sherlock Holmes use all medical terms I knew in one single sentence without batting an eyelid. Couple the abundance of doctors in my family with my obsession with anything related to the "powers of deduction" and I'm left wishing I could have been a doctor. Of course I know it's just television and I am under the influence (of radioactive water, Einstein), but it is this lingering thought that really shakes you up from the reverie of college education, ironically taken from a television series:

"When you're a little kid, you're a little bit of everything. Artist, scientist, athlete, scholar. Sometimes it seems like growing up is the process of giving these things up one by one. I guess we all have one thing we regret giving up. One thing we really miss. That we gave up because we were too lazy or we couldn't stick it out or because we were afraid."

I know countless blogs have been wasted by talking senti but when you really think hard and remember something that you truly wanted to be and while you basked in the glory of adulation, you didn't realize when childlike turned into childish, it hurts.