One Line Update (cos I don't have the time to write a full length post, last exam tomorrow. I'm fubbared over Foucault.) : Deep you're a gem!
Now don't blush and run around in circles wondering if I'm planning to stalk you, we all know I'm too lazy and you're my hatur boishi, but this not-one-line-anymore update is my formal expression of gratitude for sage advice in the middle of the night...amidst all the hysterical giggling and mockery at my unfortunate state...what the hell boy, we're in the same boat and tomorrow we're gonna sink it...and after that, this town needs to be repainted!!!

The Original Post :
awwww...everyone who's been so sweet as to wonder why I haven't been blogging, I luuurbh you awll so much. And those of you who didn't do the wondering I luurbh you too but a lot less actually.
For the last ten days or so, I've been swept away in the general merry festivities all around. This involved preparing for exams *anyone who joined this party really late, in other words anyone who is unaware of my sadistic university's discriminatory agenda against Christians, get this: we have exams stretching right through this joyous season.*
Of course when I said preparing for exams, I didn't exactly mean studying for them. That has to be the one thing, I haven't done. On the other hand I have felt exceedingly guilty at crucial moments about not having studied, so let's say I'm prepared, in a manner of speaking.
As of now I have one exam left. My only excuse for not having studied is that I have been generally occupied in various activities which might not have had much to do with mistletoe but were nonetheless entirely in the loving spirit of Christmas.
The parents of course are utterly bewildered. Whenever they ask me to do lend a hand in the wedding preparations, which presently involves endless hours of last-minute shopping, I insist I'm terribly busy studying for my last exam; unfortunately as Baba astutely pointed out the other day, I haven't been at home long enough to do much other than eat and sleep.
The problem is when I try to write everything that happened I can never explain why a day which reads met x person, did y thing, said z things should have made me feel so wonderful. Suffice to say there have been a number of superb days but maybe I'll just mention some passing highlights *which unfortunately were usually not the high points*
hmm.....the most repeated occurrence of the week has to be getting lost in various parts of the city. There was the time I spent almost two hours with a bemused cabbie trying to follow directions yelled over the phone by an increasingly cranky friend *cell phones are the most blessed things in the universe and to be honest I deserved to be cranked at, seeing how I was over an hour late and the poor thing was missing lunch*.
Then there was the time the bus I was on decided to follow an unexpected detour and I jumped off the moving bus and into a cab, promptly got confused as to which way I should go and only reached my destination on time because Sohini yelled brilliant directions over Cassy's phone. The worst of course was when I got lost on my way to Cassy's house twice in the space of about three days.
Actually no, the worst was when I got lost on the landing between the stairs and the lift in someone's house. In my defense though, I should add that I was stoned. This would be the same night I looked out of the car window on the way home and said, "which city is this?" Of course, that's what Cassy claimed I'd said, and she may have made it up since I have no recollection of this part but then again, maybe not.
On the whole much fun has been had. Some of it has been embarrassing to say the least. Various people for example, insist that I did this dance thingy in an inspired moment some nights back. All I remember is someone asking me if I wanted to dance and then a few minutes later I was like, ok, that did not happen, whoever saw it will now forget that that happened. I can't dance to save my life, so I'm rather glad I don't remember the finer details of this one, but how I wish the wonderful people who were there would forget it as well!
Of course one of the highest points of the week was the blink-and-you'll-miss-it moment of my convocation when dressed in the brightest orange robes we strolled up to collect the degrees which declare us to be graduates. So one has now formally been declared a bachelor and an arty one too.