Romance, He Wrote

LOCATION:

A beach lit up by the full moon, breeze blowing in from the sea.

CAST OF CHARACTERS:

A lovely young doctor with antiquated ideas about love and romance, despite being married for over a year, and to a curmudgeon at that

A curmudgeon, doing a poor imitation of a human being

Crabs (the marine kind, not of the itchy variety)

SCENE:

The lovely young doctor, hereinafter referred to as Pancreas, and her curmudgeon of a husband, hereinafter referred to as Curmudgeon, or Mudgy, are having dinner.

Pancreas: Look, Mudgy, it's a full moon tonight.

Mudgy: Hmm. [continues wolfing down his chicken]

Pancreas: The beach looks AMAZING, don't you think?

Mudgy: Hmm. [continues wolfing down his chicken]

Pancreas: Let's go for a romantic moonlit walk on the beach.

Mudgy: Hmm. [continues wolfing down his chicken]

Pancreas: Holding hands, OK?

Mudgy: Hmm. [continues wolfing down his chicken]

Pancreas: Yay!

Mudgy: Do we have any more chicken?

Pancreas: No, you ate it all.

Mudgy: Oh. OK, I'm sleepy. Good night.

Pancreas: What about the romantic moonlit walk on the beach you promised me?

Mudgy: What? When?

Pancreas: Just now.

Mudgy: I didn't do anything of the sort. I was having my chicken. Too bad there isn't any left.

Pancreas: Aww! Mudgee! Look, it's lovely outside.

Mudgy: Dammit, woman, the beach is not going to run away, it's going to be there tomor-

Pancreas: MUD-GY. YOU. ME. BEACH. NOW.

Mudgy: *shrugs* Whatever.

At the beach

Mudgy: Hahaha! The tide is in! There is no beach! Hahaha! Now, let's go back, you can make me more chicken.

Pancreas: We can sit on this bench right here.

Mudgy: Hmph!

Pancreas: Look at all the constellations.

Mudgy: Hmm.

Pancreas: Ooh! Did you see that huge wave?

Mudgy: Hmm.

Pancreas: All the crabs have come out! They're running all over the place!

Mudgy: These ones aren't good for eating. Very little meat inside. But the ones deep in the sea are delicious, with lots of garlic, and onions. Mmmm!

Pancreas: MUD-GY.

Mudgy: What did I do now?

Pancreas: Can't you be a little romantic, for once in your life.

Mudgy: Well, all right.... LOOK! LOOK! DO YOU SEE THAT? *points at dark shape in the sea*

Pancreas: What? What?

Mudgy: A mermaid! Carried over the waves, over the tides, looking for her lost love!

Pancreas: Aw! Mudgy! That's so romantic!

Mudgy: She's HOT! Hey! Mermaid! Over here, baby!

Pancreas: MUD-GY.

Mudgy: Just kidding!

Pancreas: You're SOOOO unromantic.

Mudgy: Of course I'm not unromantic. Do you know what I would do if a huge whale came up and told me that it wanted to have you for its dinner?

Pancreas: What? What?

Mudgy: I'd tell it to be my guest, of course!

Pancreas: ...

Mudgy: But then it would choke on your bones and die, and then you will get arrested for whaling. And I'll FINALLY be free of you. Muhahah- OUCH! OW! OWW! STOP! STOP! OUCH! I'M SORRY! OUCH!

This incident may or may not be based on an actual incident. The background to the story is that Mudgy Dearest was transferred to a place where we live about a hundred metros from a beach that is NOT open to the public. We can go to the beach any time we want to, and with this mind, we hardly ever go to the beach.

The Beach. Duh!

In other news, I have managed to clear all my exams, so now I'm eligible to take yet another exam after three years of penal servitude at the Internal Medicine wards of my alma mater. Yes, Dr. Adorable Pancreas, MD, in three more years! Assuming, of course, that we win all the cases currently in court and are allowed to continue the course. It's a long story, and not one I want to talk about right now.

At any rate, the beach is still there.

Our Last Summer

Clarification: It was not summer. More like the period just after the monsoons when it's stopped raining and it starts to get a lot warmer but not the bake-you-to-a-crisp summer heat yet. Yeah, that. We need a name for that. I christen it... Monlater. I am SO clever.

All right, let's get down to the actual reason I'm sitting down here to write a blog post. This is yet another of those posts where I try to tell you (and by you, I mean, me, because I do not have a single reader left since I began to take extended breaks of a 'few' months duration) that I have exams and will write a 'proper' post as soon as they end. And by 'as soon as they end' I mean two months after they end.

Here is yet another picture of the lovely Adorable Pancreas and her wonderful husband Duodenum C. Loop. You are welcome.

Not my handbag, by the way

Tan Tan Tara!

Amidst great fanfare and rejoicings (or more accurately, sobs and screams of "FIX IT! FIX EET! FEEX EET!"), we The Husband fixed my his laptop. You know what means, don't you? Other than The Husband Is A Genius? It means pictures, people!

Here are some from our trip to Ooty in the dead of winter. Best. Honeymoon. Ever. I looked like a homeless person, bundled up from head to foot, wearing ALL the clothes I had with me at the time, and STILL shivering like I had malaria.

View from some dam.

This is where we stayed. Point to note, bring your own radiators if you do not wish to wake up as a block of ice.

Nice and toasty in the car, with the heater going at full blast.

Basking in the sun at noon.

Wait a minute. I can hear some of you complaining that there are no pictures of us. Here you go!

Gotcha!

Take particular notice of the bony black horse on the left. I have no idea whether it ever lifted its head long enough to stop eating. Just like me, says The Husband. The horse and I have similar metabolism, I guess. Eat your hearts out in envy.

That's all for tonight, ladies and gentlemen. As a parting gift, here's a picture of Us. No, really.

The Husband is on the left, in a stripey tee. I am the nondescript tramp on the right.

I'm Lovin' It

I have been married eight months now. Except for all the prepping I've got to do (y'know, for yet another exam *sigh*), life's great. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out when you have found treasure. Yes, I am talking about The Husband. I mean, he buys me shoes without being asked, and that was more than enough to convince me that I'd struck Solid! Gold!

I sort of destroyed his laptop, (unintentionally, of course) and he was really nice about it and did not even yell at me. He did refuse to speak to me, but since neither of us can shut up for a minute to save our lives, the silence lasted all of five minutes. But, we have not got around to getting it fixed it yet, so, sorry folks, no pictures.

Someday soon, I hope to be able to write something that is more than a placeholder post. Until then, ciao.

Pancreas, over and out.

Break Ke Baad

So. Full-fledged doctor and all that. And also, found someone brain damaged enough to want to marry me, so, yeah. Got hitched too. Yippee.


And there are exams. And more exams. Because if a medical graduate wants to specialise (and I do), you need to qualify in at least one of the few million entrance tests for post graduate courses. Not that I expect to clear them this year or anything, but people keep looking disappointed when I am not buried beneath a textbook. Seriously, any kid who says he/she wants to become a doctor should have their heads examined.

Exam. Gah.

Where Have All The Readers Gone?

I don't update anymore, so it isn't any good my whining about you lovely people not reading my blog anymore. *sigh*

This isn't a real blog post, it's just a quick message to all those loyal souls who still visit this here blog hoping for a new post (who could possibly be that sad?). I have finished my stint in Surgery (HALLELUJAH!) and will soon finish off Orthopaedics, and it's going to be (comparatively) less hectic SPM days. The only reason I found the time and energy to type up even this bit in the middle of Ortho is because I'm down with an infection and a sprained foot and am taking a break. That means extension, but I'm past caring.

Not actually my foot

Stay tuned.

Please.

Wanted

Food and sleep are my holy grail. (Sort of. Despite not being Dan Brown, I don't care about inaccuracies.) I can never have them when I need them. I think the worst time is two in the night, when even the roaring from my stomach cannot keep me awake.


Thus goes the life of a hapless intern, who, as the saying goes, is overworked and underpaid. Not for long, maybe. A huge maybe.

It kills me that slaving for perfect strangers who don't know me from Adam leaves me with absolutely no energy to lift a finger to help my mom, who thinks me her entire world. It makes me feel incredibly guilty. So guilty that I can't even imagine 'borrowing' the lovely sari I bought her.

Sometimes, I wonder about what it was like to be normal. I can't remember.